What defines a mother? The things she does, or simply the role she plays...what if both do not match up?
Tonight, I had to tell a mother that she would not be taking her daughter home with her. I might as well have been CPS.
On one hand, I've seen the way she has ruined her chance of keeping her baby...a sixteeen year old mother...the drugs she did while pregnant, the way she was careless in whom she chose to conceive with (a man who is in jail for abuse and drug addiction- approximately 30 years old)...the unkempt appearance and disregard for safety...and the few and far between days she visited her daughter...the days and days that went by that she was in my arms, looking toward the door, for the woman who held her in the womb. Who never showed up...so she resigned herself to my arms, I thought...the days the chair beside her crib or isolette remained empty; alone.
But no matter how much my mind agrees that this is the best, and she needs better care... I cannot detach completely from the agony of a mother losing her child...more painful, I believe....is watching another mother take your place...take your child...erase the memory of you....
As she walked in, she saw the bags of her clothes packed up, sitting in the carseat she had brought in for her daughter...the picture of her and the father missing at the bedside, also packed up with her things....a teddy bear from the foster mother in it's place. She wept and looked painfully at me. I winced and said helplessly, "I'm so sorry...this must be so hard." And then proceeded to explain to her what was happening. She left with her carseat in hand....empty....she was so hopeful that she would have her daughter returned to her....and yet, again, I was hesitant....
Oh, how painful...at least she is this: always her mother, always a mother!
And like my job isn't enough...what am I doing? I am watching Discovery Health...Trauma in the ER...Mystery Diagnosis...and various medical tragedy shows. Is it the insatiable drive in me to FIX, FIX, FIX everything around me...to help, to remedy, to heal? Or do I thrive on pain and affliction because I watch the unexplainable happen in the midst...I love what I do...I live for what I do...I was made for what I do!
On one hand, I've seen the way she has ruined her chance of keeping her baby...a sixteeen year old mother...the drugs she did while pregnant, the way she was careless in whom she chose to conceive with (a man who is in jail for abuse and drug addiction- approximately 30 years old)...the unkempt appearance and disregard for safety...and the few and far between days she visited her daughter...the days and days that went by that she was in my arms, looking toward the door, for the woman who held her in the womb. Who never showed up...so she resigned herself to my arms, I thought...the days the chair beside her crib or isolette remained empty; alone.
But no matter how much my mind agrees that this is the best, and she needs better care... I cannot detach completely from the agony of a mother losing her child...more painful, I believe....is watching another mother take your place...take your child...erase the memory of you....
As she walked in, she saw the bags of her clothes packed up, sitting in the carseat she had brought in for her daughter...the picture of her and the father missing at the bedside, also packed up with her things....a teddy bear from the foster mother in it's place. She wept and looked painfully at me. I winced and said helplessly, "I'm so sorry...this must be so hard." And then proceeded to explain to her what was happening. She left with her carseat in hand....empty....she was so hopeful that she would have her daughter returned to her....and yet, again, I was hesitant....
Oh, how painful...at least she is this: always her mother, always a mother!
And like my job isn't enough...what am I doing? I am watching Discovery Health...Trauma in the ER...Mystery Diagnosis...and various medical tragedy shows. Is it the insatiable drive in me to FIX, FIX, FIX everything around me...to help, to remedy, to heal? Or do I thrive on pain and affliction because I watch the unexplainable happen in the midst...I love what I do...I live for what I do...I was made for what I do!
posted by Adalia at 1:23 AM
2 Comments:
sometimes it's not the events, but the implications that are so problematic. life in a hospital is so hyper-real. you are suddenly pulled into someone's real life. so often, in public, we shield ourselves and our lives...only projecting what we want to be seen. in hospital, you become a functional part of the family...sometimes you must not know whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity of it all.
Amen, ceci, amen!
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