All the Help I Could Get

When I Most Needed It

Angels All Around

Through the years I nurtured our children, although there were times of deep loneliness, more often a supportive community surrounded me. I’ve written in earlier posts about how grateful I still am to the young women who each spent a year living with us as mother’s helpers. Their presence greatly eased my everyday routine. In my memoir, Rosa Mystica, which will be published November 17 this year, I share the stories of friends who stood by me in a multitude of ways from giving us rides to hospitals to sitting with me over coffee as I puzzled my way through one conundrum after another.

One practice helped my husband and me preserve both our sanity and the health of our marriage: the weekly date nights I’ve mentioned in earlier posts. What I haven’t shared is the essential element that made those evenings especially beneficial.

More Than I Could Handle

By the time our youngest child, our son John’s challenges escalated, I became overwhelmed by meeting his needs and those of his three school-age sisters. One particularly frantic morning, once I got the girls off to school, I called a child-abuse help line. I had neither verbally nor physically harmed my children, but I felt desperate for some place to turn.

The empathetic counselor listened quietly to my ragged outpouring and told me she was certain I could benefit from counseling. She referred me to a psychotherapist whom she knew had helped other mothers in similar situations. My good angel was on my shoulder that day because I called the therapist immediately and made an appointment for later that week.

Therapy Rescue

When Jane, the psychotherapist, heard my story, she insisted that I come once a week. Jane helped me to understand that I wasn’t failing, that challenges such as I was facing could be debilitating, that few people had the personal resources to deal with what I faced. Thankfully, she also assured me together we could find ways to navigate the rough seas of my life without my boat sinking.

In our time together each week, she brought a nonjudgmental perspective to bear on my experiences that showed me when I expected too much of myself and how I could cut back on all I tried to do, how to focus on the truly important, and to remember that “perfect is the enemy of the good enough.”

Once, I told her that with all that was going on in the world I felt I should be reading more news magazines, but instead I broke down and read romance novels at night. She forbad me giving up the novels. That escape from reality each evening was, she was certain, a requisite for maintaining my grip. Seldom, however, was Jane so directive. Rather in dialogue with her, I could often see the answers that had evaded me in the whirlwind of my responsibilities. Learning that I knew how to move through what I had perceived as obstacles was the most empowering tool Jane handed me.

Importance of Empathy

The utter dependence of my children, especially my daughter and son with profound disabilities, upon me sometimes frightened me into the inability to act. With Jane, I came to see that sometimes empathy can be enough, to listen and try to understand are meaningful powerful ways of parenting. I didn’t have to have a magic “fix-it” wand for every disappointment or hurt my children suffered.

I already realized that caring for my “special” kids was emotionally taxing but hadn’t been willing enough to seek interventions that might reduce that stress. Indeed, I tended to take on more responsibilities at church and in neighborhood and community organizations in an effort to “normalize” our situation. These added to my burnout, Jane insisted, and needed to be limited. She pointed out that I wasn’t having any time off and that no one can work 24/7 (which given the frequency of my children’s seizures I sometimes did). So, I hired a caretaker for the days I saw Jane.

A Stronger Couple Bond

After meeting with Jane, I would go for coffee and record in a journal for an hour, working through our conversation. When I finished journaling, my husband and I would meet over a glass of wine at a quiet bar to discuss my session and my reflections. Then, feeling renewed and closer than ever, we finished with dinner and a movie.

My Best Possible Family

The best thing Jane helped me do was to accept Kristy and Johnny exactly where they were in each moment, to live with the uncertainty their mysterious disorder caused while still meeting their needs as well as possible. I became more appreciative of Kristy’s sweet disposition and prouder than ever of her drawings and paintings. I learned to laugh with Johnny even when the joke was on me. Who couldn’t smile with a kid who was always smiling himself, whose eyes were always twinkling?

These good times didn’t erase all my anxiety and concern, but they balanced it out, allowed me to feel blessed and better able to be the “good enough” mother I yearned to be. And it made my heart sing when I saw these same ways of relating to their siblings reflected in their sisters’ interactions with them.