This is one, from a series of
several non-fiction happenings in my life, I will be sharing. Each story reinforces the universal cosmic
notion of Six Degrees of Separation & Karma. It's my hope you, as the
reader, will relate with my experiences as well as reflect upon your own
beliefs on our connectedness as human beings.
So school is beginning, right
moms? From nursery school through college, moms journey through relationships
and experiences that help us gain a better understanding of ourselves and
provide insight to navigate our trek through motherhood.
Often, we hear clichés such
as "what comes around goes around" and the idea of Six
degrees of separation: the theory
that all living things in the world are six or fewer steps away from each other
so that a chain of "a friend of a friend" statements can be made to
connect any two people in a maximum of six steps. Both these expressions became truisms in my
life after I met another mom (who has since moved away) when our kids attended
the same nursery school. I learned a few powerful lessons I'm compelled to
share.
When my husband and I purchased our new home in preparation
of raising our family, we both agreed to live outside of our comfort zone--
away from the towns we grew up in-- but not so far that we couldn't drive a few
hours to visit close relatives and friends.
Since we wanted to start a family, we ventured to an area touted with great schools and an active
children's community. We didn't realize
how challenging it would be to have absolutely no one we knew close by once we
had our kids, only 18 months apart in age.
We were blessed with two extremely active boys who literally
learned to run a few days after learning to walk. And as many of you may guess,
they often went in different directions, with completely opposite
personalities. Hence, I placed them in different nursery schools: While our older son enjoyed a Co-op nursery
school where parents-- including myself--helped out, we placed our younger son
in a nursery school centered around the Jewish faith. Even though we are
Catholic, I felt the school's program and philosophy was the best fit for our
son's high activity level. It was also a wonderful opportunity for all of us to
learn more about another culture as they celebrated the rituals of Shabbat with
prayers, lighting of candles, and --the toddlers favorite--offerings of challah
bread and grape juice each Friday. We met both Catholic families who shared our
outlook as well as Jewish families who welcomed us.
Both our sons, Derek and Dylan, were very happy, and I was acclimating to motherhood.
I had struggled with my new mom status after our first son was born. In short,
I built my career most of my life and never imagined leaving it to become a mom.
But, my children needed me, and I loved them so much and felt no one else would
raise them as I would.
I'm unsure if my struggles included some postpartum
depression as I was never diagnosed for it. I only knew that I was experiencing feelings of isolation.
This prompted me to seek therapy about 8 months after our first son was born. I
needed to connect with someone who understood me and could help me get back on
track. My husband was supportive but didn't feel
as I did, which was lost: Lost in my neighborhood or lack thereof since
most of the parents with small kids had nannies, lost in my stay at home status, wondering if I
was a "good" mom, lost in me and what I wanted to accomplish as a
woman, as a person.
I vividly recall pushing
my stroller into the home office of the therapist I made an appointment with for the first time.
She seemed to understand me. She was
a career-driven woman as well and had accomplished children who also were new
parents. Yet, after a few sessions, I have to regrettably admit, I didn't
connect with her. She was often late to our sessions which annoyed me
considering I had my baby on board, a baby I breastfed, dressed and cleaned
before arriving--not to mention lugging everything including a 33lb Graco stroller in and out of the car and
up her driveway. She also focused a good amount of time on completing my insurance
forms to make sure she got paid (yes, we all want to get paid, but c'mon, do
this after our session).
Anyway, within a few weeks, I had to discuss a major issue
in my life involving one of my longest, dearest and closest friends. She was
going through a terrible time in her life, and it was devastating. She began
driving over to my home several times a week. Naturally, I was caring for my son who often
didn't sleep, which, of course, meant I too was sleep deprived. I didn't know how to console her, and I was
becoming overwhelmed in trying to help.
I have to emphasize my friend's issue didn't involve substance abuse of any
sort, which is why, when the therapist
advised me to "cut-her out of your life," I couldn't believe it. I reminded her this woman was a lifelong
friend who had helped me many times, and we've been there for each other...always. The
therapist scolded, "You have a new baby, a new life...she's causing too
much stress for you...you need to cut it off... see if she gets the help she
needs." I understood the importance
of taking care of my son. Still, I didn't think I had to abandon my friend
completely.
After much contemplation, I did drop her--the therapist,
that is! I was able to help my friend get the support she needed, and I devoted
myself to my son and organizing our lives better. I also found joy in some of
our simple strolls, his milestones... and writing. Unfortunately, a few months
later, our savings were depleted and I had to return to work. Surprisingly, soon after starting my career again, I became
pregnant. After the birth of our second son, I left my career, became a
full-time mom and began a new career path in writing and tutoring, as well as
venturing into educational advocacy work. And, I found a counselor who I
admired, one who I felt understood me and could help me back on track.
So, as my sons grew into their nursery schools, each loving
his friends and teachers, I became more confident in trusting my "mother's
instinct" in making life choices for our family. During one of my younger
son's, Dylan's play-dates, a mom and I
chatted while our kids ran around. We
had a quick play-date at her palatial house before one of my son's doctor's
appointment, so I had them back over to our home. As the mom and I talked, she
shared her son's favorite person in the class was Dylan and that her son didn't connect with anyone else. I told her not to worry as some kids, and
moms, need time to warm up to others.
As our kids raced around, climbing in and out of a cardboard
box (of course, a playroom of toys, and
Dylan chose an empty box as his conquest) we discussed all the different issues
we faced as parents. She explained some
of her philosophy, especially the importance of having alone time with our
husbands. I was somewhat envious that she and her husband often left their kids
with her parents and went away on the weekends to a second residence, an apartment in NYC her parents owned. I was also a little embarrassed to admit I
couldn't remember the last time my husband and I went out alone.
Then she asked if I
cleaned my home. "Ummm, yup, I do." She couldn't imagine "living
without" a cleaning lady: "She even does my laundry." I recall giggling replying, "There's no
way I'd let anyone do our laundry--unless it was dire circumstances." She
told me I needed to change my thinking... and in some ways, she was probably
right. I had--and still do--some old fashioned ideas about cooking and cleaning.
Still, the main reason I do these tasks is to show love to my family. I have
since cooked with my kids who now prepare occasional meals, and they help with
the cleaning. Next, she advised me to install
a surveillance camera outside so I didn't have to leave the house all the time to
watch my kids when they were playing. That was funny to me as well because I
couldn't imagine sending my toddlers out to play alone... especially since we
don't have a fence... Besides they like me to play with them, well...sometimes.
Once we discussed our careers, I explained I took a hiatus
from mine and was working to build something else. She explained she studied psychology and
would be working with her mom who happened to be an "amazing"
psychologist. As she described where her mom's office was, I got that strange
feeling in my gut: "Was her mom the
psychologist I saw?" I thought, "Lord, I hope not." I'm bad at pretense, so I just smiled and
nodded before turning away, worried she might sense my familiarity once she
mentioned her mom's name, my former
psychologist!
Before leaving the mom paused, "There's one question (Oh,
geez, I hope she doesn't ask me why I stopped seeing her mom) I've been meaning
to ask you....(long pause).. "Why is Dylan always so happy?"
I smiled, answering in relief: "he just is." I felt joyful after she left, recognizing my
children are happy. So maybe I, in some
way, I thought, "am contributing to
enriching their lives? Maybe that's one
way to measure my success--at this time in my life?" Obviously, kids go through stages just as parents do. But right now, my kids are
cheerful. And that's wonderful!
Moving forward, I felt uneasy in the thought I might see my
former psychologist at my son's nursery school, but realized I had to choose
what was "right" for me. If
that meant some moments of awkwardness,
then so be it. It wasn't long before there was a holiday party and grandparents
were invited. When I saw my former psychologist, who was sitting with her
grandson at another table by themselves, I smiled and let them have their time
together. Instead, I focused on my son who
was dancing all day, extremely happy.
As the year
progressed, we had many play dates with both our kids' friends and their moms
and tons of birthday parties. At one party, I saw the mom/psychologist standing
alone in the corner, looking sad and upset. I walked over to her and noticed
she was crying. I asked if I could help. She explained her sister just
delivered a baby with Down's Syndrome. She said her sister worked with these
children in her profession, so she was accepting and feeling blessed to have the baby. I shared
"how beautiful it is and how lucky this baby is to have a mom who has this
experience to help provide a wonderful and full life." As the mom wept,
she added she worried, "you know
how everyone compares kids...and how her child won't measure up..." I
understood, but reminded her that her sister may not feel this way. "And
who knows," I explained," your sister may help this child soar to
unimaginable heights." Her sister appeared to be evolved beyond most
people, myself included. Ultimately, I
did my best to comfort her.
The next day at school during drop-off, the mom stopped me,
"Thank you so much for everything you did for me yesterday. I told my mom
you were the kindest human being I've ever met. I mean, no one has ever been
that kind to me in my entire life." I hugged her, and said I was just
being myself and doing what any caring person would do.
On the ride home, I felt grateful she shared her
appreciation with me. I also felt sad for her that, on some level, both she and
her mom didn't understand the meaning of friendship. The caring attention I gave to her, as an acquaintance,
is the same consideration I gave to my best friend in getting the help she
needed several years earlier. Would my former psychologist have wanted me to
turn my back on her daughter during her painful moment?
Moms (& everyone) need to ultimately realize the remedies psychologists
and all doctors give their patients
aren't always the best solutions for our issues; sometimes answers aren't found in textbooks; sometimes they are
discovered in the depths of our heart.
