My oldest daughter
was born with a birth defect. As these things go, it was very mild—a
cleft deformity in her hard palate and a cleft lip. She has had three
related surgeries to date, and will likely need at least two more
before she reaches 18 years old.
It wasn’t a
hole in her heart; it wasn’t a missing limb, or a condition
that would affect her development in any important way.
We felt very lucky
that it was not worse.
Every nurse and
doctor told me it wasn’t my fault; these things just happen
sometimes.
I was contacted
after her birth to participate in a study. The whys if this
particular birth defects are not all known. There is an obvious
genetic component since the incidence of it occurs in very different
percentages based on race: white people have about a 1 in 1000 chance
of having this birth defect, and Filipinos have about a 1 in 100
chance.
They asked me all
kinds of questions about my diet and lifestyle while I was pregnant.
Yes, we had a cat, yes, I took additional calcium supplements during
my pregnancy, yes, I did this, no, I didn’t do that.
As I have casually
kept up on the research into this condition, I have found that if a
pregnant woman gets toxoplasmosis from a cat, it can lead to this
defect. I have learned that the chemicals used to cure meat are also
thought to cause this defect.
In other words, it
probably is my fault.
Oh, I know that
anything I did wrong was in ignorance. It may have happened no matter
what I did. However—
There are fewer more
painful emotions than feeling you have failed your child. And yet, we
can’t help but do it sometimes.
How do we deal with
“mommy guilt?”
Mommies who work,
mommies with a special needs child who sometimes neglect the healthy
ones because she has to, mommies who find themselves a single parent,
and every mommy without extra challenges but who fails sometimes,
experience mommy guilt.
Of course, daddies
experience this, too.
Some parents don’t
want to face those feelings and so lay the blame for everything on
their children. Or, they may try to hide their heads in the sand and
pretend their children have never suffered for their mistakes.
Some are so obsessed
with preventing these feelings that they control everything their
children do in an effort to prevent their children’s failure,
and thus theirs as parents.
Most of us fall
somewhere in between, dabbling in a bit of each extreme.
We forget that we
are not our children’s only parents. We are not even our
children’s first parents.
As with all human
failings, the only thing that can truly bridge the gap between our
feeble attempts at parenthood and what our children really need is
the atonement.
I have often
wondered, nor do I claim to be even close to understanding, how a
loving Father in Heaven can send his innocent little children to some
of the most horrific situations imaginable.
But, somehow, I have
to have faith that everything is accounted for in His plan. Somehow
every wrong will be righted and every wound healed.
I think most people
in their late teens or early twenties deal with their disappointments
in their parents. It is a natural part of becoming your own adult—you
analyze what your parents did wrong, what you want to do better. You
may have to work through grief or anger at some of the problems they
caused you. If you are very lucky, maybe you are more concerned with
how you can fill such amazing shoes since your parents are near
perfect.
When I was going
through this stage, I remember talking to my dad and expressing how I
wish he had done something better for me. His reply was something
like, “We probably did make some mistakes. I am sorry we were
not perfect. The question really is now, what are you going to do
with what you’ve been handed?”
At some point, each
of our children must come to answer this question on their own.
Likewise, we must answer the question, was my offering on the altar
of parenthood the best I could give? Was it given with a pure heart
and good intent? Did I put my child’s welfare above my own
selfishness?
Ideally, we should
be asking ourselves these questions often---during our
parenting years, not after. And when we fail, we need to have the
humility to apologize to our children. When we do this, we not only
teach them about repentance, but we show them that we respect them as
fellow children of God, not just “our” children.
We also make it
easier for them to forgive us one day when they wake up and realize
the ways we messed them up.
The best I think we
can hope for is that we mess our children up in better ways than our
parents did to us.
And we forgive our
parents for being people, just as we hope our children will forgive
us.
Emily
Jorgensen received her bachelor's degree in piano performance from
Brigham Young University. She earned her master's degree in
elementary music education, also at BYU. She holds a Kodaly
certificate in choral education, as well as permanent certification
in piano from Music Teacher’s National Association.
She
has taught piano, solfege, and children’s music classes for 17
years in her own studio. She has also taught group piano classes at
BYU.
She
is an active adjudicator throughout the Wasatch Front and has served
in local, regional, and state positions Utah Music Teachers'
Association, as well as the Inspirations arts contest chair at
Freedom Academy.
She
gets a lot of her inspiration for her column by parenting her own
rambunctious four children, aged from “in diapers” to
“into Harry Potter.” She is still married to her high
school sweetheart and serves in her ward’s Primary.