Mom guilt and broken bones
Posted on June 1, 2010 by FoBaM-Jamie
Today’s post comes from a woman who knows a little something about the ups and downs of motherhood. Despite having six kids of her own, a flock of chickens, and a busy writing career, Wendy somehow still manages to pull off coherent sentences that are full of her simple wisdom and ample sense of humor. Enjoy!
During a rousing game of hide and go seek at my daughter’s 10th birthday party, she broke her arm. It wasn’t due to rough-housing but instead happened when a boy stepped on the canoe under which she was hiding and holding up causing her forearm to break.
It was an accident.
My first reaction after assessing the situation was relief. THANK GOD it was my child who broke her arm at the birthday party and not one of the guests. My second reaction was “Oh boy – here we go again”. I have 6 children and between them all they have had:
- 9 broken bones
- 4 sprains
- 3 surgeries
Let me tell you right now. Even with repetition, the mom-guilt just doesn’t get any easier.
Every single one of my children’s incidents had a legitimate cause.
One child never really grew into his now 6’3” body and he still stumbles and twists. One child is in gymnastics and after competing for 9 years he has broken bones in his feet, wrist, and even his nose (requiring 2 of the surgeries listed). Injuries are an unfortunate result of being active. They are an unfortunate result of being alive.
But even having a legitimate reason doesn’t stop the immediate “Kramer vs Kramer” guilt that a mom feels when her child gets hurt. You know the “I should have been there, I should have known not to let her play hide and go seek. I should have … I should – not have been such a bad mother.”
This was my daughter’s third broken bone.
It doesn’t matter that bone number one was a finger crushed in a drawer. Bone number 2 was the result of a kick to the leg during a soccer game that shattered the shin guard and left the tibia with tiny little cracks. And it didn’t matter that this last one was the result of a game.
None of it mattered, I still felt deficient as her protector. This child, after all is under my protection until she is old enough to fly off on her own. Keeping your kid safe is part of the job description of being a mom.
Intellectually, I understand that bones heal, my daughter will eventually be all right. My long term, rational take on it? With proper care her bones will quickly mend, soon she’ll be as right as rain. She’ll learn a lesson from all this (like don’t hide under a canoe next time) and will eventually be the better for it.
The lesson I’ll learn from my daughter’s break? I’m going to have to remember that despite the fact I’d like to cover my kids in bubble wrap in order to protect them from future harm, it’s okay for them to keep running and jumping. It’s okay for them to be alive and to be active participants in life – even though they might again get hurt and I might feel that aching guilt. I have to recognize that their injuries are ultimately not about me.
And I especially need to remember that it was through their repeated falling down and getting up again that my kids eventually learned how to walk on their own.
Wendy Thomas is an award winning journalist, columnist, and blogger who believes that taking challenges in life will always lead to goodness. She is the mother of 6 funny and creative kids and it is her goal to teach them through stories and lessons. Wendy’s current project involves writing about her family’s experiences with chickens (yes, chickens).
Its nice to hear that other moms go through this. I have two kids & neither one of them have broken bones but they have had some injuries that required the ER. I know that they are young & full of energy so these things will happen even if I am watching them every second but I still feel guilty every time they get a cut.
I had to learn to cut myself some slack as soon as my son started moving. He’s a daredevil with his father’s need for speed and his mother’s balance issues. Needless to say, my kid falls a lot. Everyone has stopped asking me where he got this bruise or that cut because after a 20 months of his “stunt” they know. I don’t remember what color my son’s forehead or legs are because they are always so battered. As a matter of fact, I’ve got to go…he just fell again!
Thank you for talking about this. I for one find it hard to even talk about an accident after its happened and the scrapes and bumps are all healed….because I still feel so bad. I have 4 kids and after even the most minor accident I always find myself saying “how did I let this happen?” Its nice to know that I am not alone. And even GREAT moms have kids with boo boos.
Its nice to read that other mothers feel the same guilt I do. Although, it doesn’t seem anyone who’s posted so far has had to burry a child as the result of an accident. A perfectly healthy, active, daredevil of a five year old boy who thought he could do what the big kids could do. He drowned in a cloudy swimming pool w/ people in it b/c no one could see him under the water. I was 2 feet from him when he needed me most and I couldn’t see him. ‘I should have …. I should have … I should have’ … is the knife the rips at my heart every hour, minute, second, breath even ten months later. Before that I had to stitch up each of my daughters after their seperate incidents of dog attacks. One was minor but one required surgery and 70+ stitches. I know the guilt of accidents and injuries and it can not hold a candle to the guilty sting of death. How will I ever get over this?
@ Meshel I do not know if you will be back to read this, but please know that you and your children will be in my prayers. Your son was an innocent soul who is now with His Father in Heaven. In time, if you realize that he is not hurting or even sad you can come to a place of peace in knowing that he is being taken care of by the very hands that knit him together in his mother’s womb. Also, know that you have the amazing possibility of seeing him again someday! All is not lost! Call on the Father for comfort and strength and it shall be given to you! Forgive yourself, for you have already been forgiven when God gave His son to death for your life. Call on Him.
Meshele,
I’m not sure you ever get over it but you do learn to carry on. Little by little, step by step. You never forget (nor should you), you’ll always carry that sharp pain in your heart but you learn that moving forward is what you have to do for your daughters, for you family, for you.
healing thoughts,
Wendy
Meshele, I hope you read this. I have not burried my own child but I have watched my mother burry my brother. I will pray for you and for all your family becaue it is something you NEVER get over. I hope you lose the guilt feeling and start to smile again. It would be a shame for your biggest memory to be about what I should have done instead of the perfect times you had together. There are no words that will help you through it but know that you will be in my thoughts and prayers. Thanks for sharing your story and I hope you find some comfort here as well, Theresa
Oh, Meshele. I am so sorry to hear of your loss. I cannot even imagine how you must feel as only someone who has lost a child can, but I just felt the strong impression to ask you: If you could have lost your life to save his or if you could have taken the attacks yourself, would you have? Did you cry because you were thinking of how sad You were feeling or because of what might happen to You? Did you cry because you wanted to take all of their pain away? Were you crying because every tear they shed crushed your heart? Those tears and thoughts are those of a good mother. I know that you ARE because you ache so much about what you should have done even though you would have if you could have. I just want to send much love, thoughts, and prayers for peace your way.
This is wonderful to read. I have a 3-month-old boy and the tiny accidents happen, because he’s getting used to moving – he punches himself in the face, flails his arms and legs into our shoulders, swing components, you name it… he’s starting to once in a while eat baby cereal off a spoon and today he grabbed on to it! I was so excited. I kept hold of it, too, but I wasn’t prepared for him to jab it into his mouth. It wasn’t too hard and he didn’t really scream or audibly cry much, but he got the biggest alligator tears and pouted at me like he hasn’t since he was a couple days old. I felt so guilty I cried! I’m still learning to not beat myself up for every tiny accident.
Meshele;
I wanted to come here and add that I’m so sorry to hear about your loss. You can’t blame yourself, we all do the best we can with what we have. Hold on to hope every day.
Yeah… the guilt doesn’t go away…
My 4 year old broke her leg when she was 2, while playing at the park… fell off one of the play bridges while I was stuck in a tube leading up to said bridge. “Why did I agree to follow her?” I asked myself! I felt everyone would blame me. nobody did.
Most recently, she fell off her bike, after my encouragement to “ride down the hill without stopping”… and even with her helmet on, received a concussion.
But she got back up. She got back on her bike, and she made it all the way down the hill just one week later.
The guilt still doesn’t go away. But the knowledge that my child has overcome the injury and moved on stronger than she was beforehand makes me think I must be doing something right…
Wow … I wasn’t expecting to find so many words of comfort when I came back here today. Thank you all SO MUCH. I have a firm foundation in Christ and I KNOW I will see my boy again. I have accepted God’s forgiveness but forgiving myself proves difficult. I have three beautiful girls (and a newborn son, praise God) and I don’t want them to be scarred by this anymore than they have to be. I hold myself together for them. I keep things as normal as I can for them. In time, I hope I can let go of my guilt over failing to protect my son. Now I live in constant fear something will happen to the rest of my children. I live with insecurity that I don’t have what it takes to care for all four of them, especially another boy. I know God will get me through it, somehow. As confused as I might be about WHY, I know God isn’t the author of death and destruction. I’ll have to get my answers when I join him there. Thank you all for your wonderful words of kindness and comfort for a fellow mother you don’t know at all.
I was a married at the tender age of 15.
At 16, I became pregnant. During the first trimester, one heartbeat was heard.
I felt kicks, development was robust. I was pregnant with twins. I was diagnosed by an X-ray. Suddenly, something seemed awry. All previous movement now had completely ceased. It was obvious even to a 16 year-old there was a problem. It was 1976.
For reasons still unknown to me to this day, my doctors refused to admit to me (after they knew it) that I was carrying stillborn twins in my body.
I continued to carry my identical twin boys in my body for many many long weeks.
I kept appointments and I was told nothing.
I gained no more weight. My measurements did not enlarge. No fetal heartbeats were heard. The doctor just did not emphasize this–He scribbled things down, said nothing, and left the room. My records show all these facts clearly.
Finally the sac ruptured. I delivered stillborn twins on Halloween night, Oct, 31, 1976.
They weighed under 2 lbs each. I was profoundly affected by the shock of this loss.
I was finally able to have two healthy sons by Cesearean birth later.
I was a very very protective exacting mother.
I was exceedingly careful at shopping centers and in traffic. Still am.
I carried my oldest son in my arms–habitually a long time. He did not take his first steps until he was almost 14 months old. He didn’t have the time to practice walking. A doctor diagnosed I was holding him too much. Pregnant—in a way, again but with him in my arms…
God Bless every
Mother and every mother
at heart…