Photo by: Shario

The Grey Cloud of Mommy Guilt

Photo by: Shario

Nobody prepared me for this. It wasn’t in my What to Expect book, or in the public health pamphlets that I’d collected, my Mom hadn’t warned me and the women around me having babies hadn’t said a word. I was blindsided, left standing there in complete and utter astonishment as the waves washed over me and my stomach ached.

How was I ever going to live with this? Would it be there forever, now that my baby is here would this follow us around until the end of time? Surely not, No! It had to get better…it just had to.

Of all the things I was prepared to face having our children, I was completely oblivious to what lay ahead in the backpack of emotional baggage that comes with having children.

I knew there would be moments of joy, frustration, love, frustration, happiness and did I mention frustration?

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind I even knew while I could pretend I had it all together, I was really a floundering, bumbling baby idiot. Heck, I even knew that the sleep deprivation was to blame for the diaper cream in the freezer and the Miracle whip in the nursery. I didn’t know though, that what would shadow me through my days and my activities, regardless of space and time would be what I’d like to call the storm cloud of Mommy Guilt.

Oh, if you’re a Mommy (or a Daddy, but let’s face it, I’ve got Mommy parts so I’m speakin’ from the ovaries) you know what I’m talking about. You will have at some time or another been smacked upside the head, or hip checked into the boards by a huge, attitude blaring version of Mommy Guilt. She’s a tricky piece of work and to be honest I’d like to see her tossed from the game, permanently but try as I might, I can’t seem to manage to earn her more than a 10 minute misconduct before she’s back on the ice and ready to fight.

I started out on this road to parenthood with all sorts of ideals.

BB – Before Baby, I would look around me and judge in that typical, young, single woman way, “Look at how she’s let herself go! She had that baby 6 weeks ago, I can’t believe she’s not back into her jeans yet?!” This of course was kept to myself and if I could hop into a time machine and clobber my BB self I would, if only I knew then…

I used to tell my husband, while pregnant with our first and rapidly gaining weight (I packed on 60 lbs that was an emotional and physical roller coaster before and after. But my weight issues, the ones that have been there since I was 13 are a topic for another day) that once the baby was born I’d have no problem leaving him/her with my husband 3 nights a week to spend 2 hours in the gym turning myself into Tyra Banks.

The fact that I didn’t have that body before and I was short about 5 inches didn’t register, I was flying high on idealism.

Fast forward to 6 weeks after my daughter was born. I was exhausted, still carrying most of the baby weight and miserable. So, I took it upon myself to inform my husband that I needed to visit my gym. I packed the bag, I fed them each dinner and off I went, sort of. I made it all the way to my car, in the driveway, before I burst into tears.

I called my Mom and said pretty much this “Hi How can I possibly leave them behind. She’s my baby and I’m going to be gone for an hour or two and she won’t know me and she’ll hate me forever. She’s my responsibility, Corey worked all day, I’m a terrible person and she’ll never forgive me and I can’t do this. I’m going to sew myself to her side for the rest of her life and I’ll never ever let her go. I can’t leave; I’m not going to leave. I’M A BAD MOOOOOOM

If you know me then you’ll know that this was said at auctioneer speeds, while doing “the ugly cry” and wiping the snot from my face with a wilted tissue. It was awesome, and when I say awesome I mean horrible.

The Mommy Guilt had overwhelmed my excessively emotional soul and left me beside myself.

I did go to the gym that night, my Mom talked me off the proverbial edge and I did fine. I didn’t however go again, because I couldn’t stand to leave her. I found other ways to be active, but I struggled with the idea of letting her go.

MG has cropped up over the years on many occasions, the first time she pointed to something in a store and I said no (we have a firm rule in our house, don’t ask for a toy/candy/treat in a store because the answer will be NO. Treats are just that, something given but not asked for, I won’t let me kids have the gimmies. Sounds great, enforcing it is heartbreaking, but well worth it), the first time my husband and I spent the night away, the day I brought our second daughter home from the hospital and had to tell my big girl she needed to wait for something.

Some days Mommy Guilt is harder to face than others, but it’s always there. Over time I’ve learned to control it, to cry over it, to give into and, at times to value it. Yes, I said value it and no I don’t have a substance abuse problem, hear me out.

I’ve come to a conclusion about Mommy Guilt, it equals love.

If we didn’t love our kids we’d have no guilt over anything. If we didn’t love our kids, then saying no, going out, leaving them at daycare, wouldn’t feel bad, it would feel normal, like a relief, no biggie.

And before you go getting your panties in a knot—I know that MG hits different moms in different ways, and I’m not saying if you do or don’t feel it in a certain situation you don’t love your kids. I tend to be an emotional creature by nature (which is why I cry at the Johnson’s baby commercials and laugh until I pee at the Old Spice ones – “I’m on a horse” ha!) so for me the MG is in excess.

Trust me, I’m not sending any judgment out here at all. I am also not implying that there aren’t times when I walk out of the house to get groceries alone that I don’t sigh a big breath of relief because the day’s been crazy, the girls were driving me mental and if I had to put one more tushie into time out it was going to be mine.

Let’s be honest, I have those days; often. What I’m saying is that, whenever you feel your MG, it’s because you love ‘em. Just like when you kiss them 6 times just because you can’t stand how cute they are. Or how you find watching them sleep, playing a game or having a conversation with them entertaining, enjoyable even. Because Mommy Guilt doesn’t come alone, it’s part of a packaged deal. With love, joy, sorrow, laughter and tears comes a gigantic dollop of Mommy Guilt, but it’s okay.

If you’ve been at this game for a while, maybe even decades you’ve learned to face your MG and deal. If you’re just starting out then you know, like I do that it’s all encompassing sometimes. But take heart, it might not go away, it doesn’t even always get easier, but you get stronger.

Fight that battle to resist taking a break because Mommy Guilt is weighing you down, you need a break to be your best you, so take it. Say “No” when you have to and “Yes” when you can, remembering in the moments where there are tears and wails of disappointment, you’re teaching your children great and sometimes hard lessons. And as difficult as it is sometimes to believe, no matter how guilty you feel, your kids will grow to understand why you have to go, learn to listen to “No” (even if listening means also back talking, who knew that started at 3!) and love you no matter what.

So, look for your silver lining on the grey cloud of Mommy Guilt – because it doesn’t mean you’re “a BAD MOOOOM”, it means your children are loved and you, are doing a great job!

Ashley Stone is a SAHM, WAHM and a blogger on the side. She has 2 beautiful little girls who fill her life with love, joy and exhaustion!

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I think its time to put the whole MG issue in a box and on a shelf.
Why should any of us Mom's have to feel guilt at all? We should NOT have to feel guilty for going to work, providing for our kids, fulfilling some of our own needs....etc.
For 33 years I have heard this "guilt" argument. When will it end?

Barb, I'm so glad that you've managed not to feel that guilt! For most of us Moms, it's not a matter of having to feel guilty but rather a fact of life. I don't really think a person chooses to feel or not feel guilt over a situation. What we can choose is how we deal with it, that's where I was coming from. Why not give it a name, make it ok that it's there and then continue to carry on with awesome parenting inspite of it. Sometimes giving those feelings a name is all it takes...

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