When Bad Things Happen To Good Mothers
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When Bad Things Happen To Good Mothers
Voices of The Addict’s Mom: When Bad Things Happen To Good Mothers
Written by Sherry Schlenke, the mother of a child, now deceased, from the disease of addiction
You are a good mother. But bad things happened to you. Things that occurred no matter how good you were. Things that you didn’t cause. Things that you cannot control. Things that make you hang your head in shame. Things that cause you heartache and deep pain as only a mother can feel. Things that you cannot cure. Things that cause tears to roll down your cheeks. Things that you are keeping bottled inside. Things that you are afraid to reveal to your family, co-workers and friends. Things that shattered your life dreams and goals. Bad Things.
But you ARE a good mother:
Did you get excited upon the joyous news that you were pregnant? Did you eat healthy and go to your doctor appointments when you were pregnant? Did you take your large, choke-inducing pre-natal vitamins? Were you nauseous all day, did your feet swell, did your back ache, but did you go to work to save money for the baby?
Yes you did.
Did you carefully choose the nursery colors, paint, furniture and theme? No lead in the paint? Soothing colors? Happy images? Musical, magical toys?
Yes you did.
Did you labor to birth your baby, crying in joy and in pain, falling deeply, impossibly in love when the baby was placed in your arms? Did you look into your baby’s big, doe-eyes, realizing that you had never, ever felt a love for anything or anyone as you felt at that moment?
Yes you did.
Did you feed your baby? Rock your baby, sing to your baby? Keep your baby warm and safe in your arms? At night, did you walk the floors with your crying baby, whispering, gently soothing the child? Were you careful not to disturb other family members? Just you and your precious baby, in the quiet of the dark night?
Yes you did.
Did you take pictures of your baby? Did you show off the pictures to others? Mail copies to friends and family? Did you write in a baby book the childhood milestones when the baby rolled over, started speaking, ate solid food, took first steps, was potty trained? Did you take your toddler to buy the first shoes? Little, leather tie shoes with a soft sole so as not to damage the tender baby feet?
Yes you did.
Did you worry about your baby? A diaper rash? A runny nose? The pain from teething? A tummy ache from colic? Did you put cream on the rash, gently rub the tender gums with medicine, wipe the runny nose, apply a bandage to a boo-boo? Did you read a bedtime story every evening, tuck the child in bed, and kiss that little cheek? Did you tip-toe into the room after dark, making sure that your baby was breathing, watching your baby sleeping, falling more and more in love as the years passed?
Yes you did.
Did you schedule play-dates, go to the mall, or to the park to ride a carousel? When your baby was ill, did you go to a pediatrician, holding the tiny hand and wiping the tears? For school, did you buy brand-new school clothes, and together choose a lunchbox, a backpack, a pencil box? On your child’s first day of school, did you cry, amazed at how the time is passing, taking a picture to remember the milestone? Did you watch those short, chubby legs climb the steps of the school bus, and wave as the bus pulled away, hoping that the day will be wonderful? Did you go to every single back-to-school night, meet the teachers and wish that they would love your child as much as you did? Were you proud when the teacher placed a check mark next to “advanced level,” “shares with other children,” is a “joy to teach?”
Yes you did.
Did you set an alarm every morning, pack a snack and lunch, and sit next to your child on the bed, gently rubbing the little shoulder, whispering “good morning?” Did you kiss, hug, and rejoice in another day with your beautiful child? Did you choose the school outfits, careful that every piece matched? Did you sit with your child at the kitchen table, helping with homework, book reports, or writing a Valentine for every child in class? Did you, exhausted from your long day, rush to the store after work, buying materials for science projects, book reports, and class parties? Did you volunteer for the PTA, chaperone field trips, act as room mother? Did you make the costume for the school play, and attend the performance, clapping and cheering even if your child sang off-key, or forgot the lines?
Yes you did.
Every Saturday, did you sit in cold, wet bleachers as the wind blew and the rain fell, watching your child play soccer, baseball, or football? Did you cheer and scream, becoming hoarse, whether the team was winning or losing?
Yes you did.
Did you take your youngster trick-or-treating, clutching that warm, sweaty little hand so that your child would feel safe? Did you decorate a Christmas tree, buy gifts from the Santa list, and stay up late wrapping presents? Did you make a fuss over birthdays, and take pictures of your child unwrapping the gifts, and blowing out the candles?
Yes you did.
Did you hang drawings and finger paintings on the refrigerator, praising and gushing over them as if painted by Picasso himself? Did you take your child to scouts, sports, music, dance, art class, the orthodontist? Did you, over-worked, and bone-tired, sit in your running car, waiting for your child to finish the session? Did you buy prom dresses and tuxedos, and take pictures of this wonderful occasion? Did you carefully press the pictures of life events into a family album?
Yes you did.
Did you set chores, curfews, house rules? Teach table manners, social skills, kindness, understanding, and tolerance? Did you teach your child the difference between right and wrong, ethics and morals, and to be a productive adult? Did you emphasize the importance of an education, of hard work, of being responsible?
Yes you did.
But then did the days become frightening? Did the nights become unbearable? Did you worry constantly about grades, friends, social life? Did you hold your breath when the phone rang? Did you wait by the door when a curfew was missed? Did you notice the subtle changes in your child’s personality, personal hygiene, and behavior? Did the group of friends cause concern for you? Did you dread the holidays, fearful that your child would disrupt the festivities, and that your family would discover the frightful reality? Did you meet with teachers, talk to the family physician, and take the child to therapy? Did you pay for rent, treatment, court fees, bills for car repair and insurance, cell phone, and groceries. Did you do without in order to support your child? Did you tell your precious child, every single day, that your love was boundless?
Yes you did.
Did you deny the reality of the addiction, of the hold of addiction, of the evil of addiction? Did you agonize, weep, walk the floors, grind your teeth, toss and turn in bed, and go without sleep due to the constant worry? Did you become secretive, fearful, and jumpy? Did you withdraw into yourself, into a dark and lonely place, becoming obsessed with curing and saving your troubled child? Did you set aside your work, your spouse, your other children, your family and your friends to focus solely on the one child? Did your now unrecognizable child scream at you, abuse you, disrespect you, frighten you? Did you speak relentlessly and repeatedly of your love, of your commitment to your child’s recovery, of your determination to help? Did you permit your child to return to your house, into your loving embrace, time after time, even though house rules were broken, and crimes were committed? Did you love this child to the core of your being, despite the horrible behaviors?
Yes you did.
Because even though bad things happened to you, your love for this child has no conditions, your love has no limits, your love for your baby will endure until your last breath.
Because you are a good mother.
Written by Sherry Schlenke, the mother of a child, now deceased, from the disease of addiction
You are a good mother. But bad things happened to you. Things that occurred no matter how good you were. Things that you didn’t cause. Things that you cannot control. Things that make you hang your head in shame. Things that cause you heartache and deep pain as only a mother can feel. Things that you cannot cure. Things that cause tears to roll down your cheeks. Things that you are keeping bottled inside. Things that you are afraid to reveal to your family, co-workers and friends. Things that shattered your life dreams and goals. Bad Things.
But you ARE a good mother:
Did you get excited upon the joyous news that you were pregnant? Did you eat healthy and go to your doctor appointments when you were pregnant? Did you take your large, choke-inducing pre-natal vitamins? Were you nauseous all day, did your feet swell, did your back ache, but did you go to work to save money for the baby?
Yes you did.
Did you carefully choose the nursery colors, paint, furniture and theme? No lead in the paint? Soothing colors? Happy images? Musical, magical toys?
Yes you did.
Did you labor to birth your baby, crying in joy and in pain, falling deeply, impossibly in love when the baby was placed in your arms? Did you look into your baby’s big, doe-eyes, realizing that you had never, ever felt a love for anything or anyone as you felt at that moment?
Yes you did.
Did you feed your baby? Rock your baby, sing to your baby? Keep your baby warm and safe in your arms? At night, did you walk the floors with your crying baby, whispering, gently soothing the child? Were you careful not to disturb other family members? Just you and your precious baby, in the quiet of the dark night?
Yes you did.
Did you take pictures of your baby? Did you show off the pictures to others? Mail copies to friends and family? Did you write in a baby book the childhood milestones when the baby rolled over, started speaking, ate solid food, took first steps, was potty trained? Did you take your toddler to buy the first shoes? Little, leather tie shoes with a soft sole so as not to damage the tender baby feet?
Yes you did.
Did you worry about your baby? A diaper rash? A runny nose? The pain from teething? A tummy ache from colic? Did you put cream on the rash, gently rub the tender gums with medicine, wipe the runny nose, apply a bandage to a boo-boo? Did you read a bedtime story every evening, tuck the child in bed, and kiss that little cheek? Did you tip-toe into the room after dark, making sure that your baby was breathing, watching your baby sleeping, falling more and more in love as the years passed?
Yes you did.
Did you schedule play-dates, go to the mall, or to the park to ride a carousel? When your baby was ill, did you go to a pediatrician, holding the tiny hand and wiping the tears? For school, did you buy brand-new school clothes, and together choose a lunchbox, a backpack, a pencil box? On your child’s first day of school, did you cry, amazed at how the time is passing, taking a picture to remember the milestone? Did you watch those short, chubby legs climb the steps of the school bus, and wave as the bus pulled away, hoping that the day will be wonderful? Did you go to every single back-to-school night, meet the teachers and wish that they would love your child as much as you did? Were you proud when the teacher placed a check mark next to “advanced level,” “shares with other children,” is a “joy to teach?”
Yes you did.
Did you set an alarm every morning, pack a snack and lunch, and sit next to your child on the bed, gently rubbing the little shoulder, whispering “good morning?” Did you kiss, hug, and rejoice in another day with your beautiful child? Did you choose the school outfits, careful that every piece matched? Did you sit with your child at the kitchen table, helping with homework, book reports, or writing a Valentine for every child in class? Did you, exhausted from your long day, rush to the store after work, buying materials for science projects, book reports, and class parties? Did you volunteer for the PTA, chaperone field trips, act as room mother? Did you make the costume for the school play, and attend the performance, clapping and cheering even if your child sang off-key, or forgot the lines?
Yes you did.
Every Saturday, did you sit in cold, wet bleachers as the wind blew and the rain fell, watching your child play soccer, baseball, or football? Did you cheer and scream, becoming hoarse, whether the team was winning or losing?
Yes you did.
Did you take your youngster trick-or-treating, clutching that warm, sweaty little hand so that your child would feel safe? Did you decorate a Christmas tree, buy gifts from the Santa list, and stay up late wrapping presents? Did you make a fuss over birthdays, and take pictures of your child unwrapping the gifts, and blowing out the candles?
Yes you did.
Did you hang drawings and finger paintings on the refrigerator, praising and gushing over them as if painted by Picasso himself? Did you take your child to scouts, sports, music, dance, art class, the orthodontist? Did you, over-worked, and bone-tired, sit in your running car, waiting for your child to finish the session? Did you buy prom dresses and tuxedos, and take pictures of this wonderful occasion? Did you carefully press the pictures of life events into a family album?
Yes you did.
Did you set chores, curfews, house rules? Teach table manners, social skills, kindness, understanding, and tolerance? Did you teach your child the difference between right and wrong, ethics and morals, and to be a productive adult? Did you emphasize the importance of an education, of hard work, of being responsible?
Yes you did.
But then did the days become frightening? Did the nights become unbearable? Did you worry constantly about grades, friends, social life? Did you hold your breath when the phone rang? Did you wait by the door when a curfew was missed? Did you notice the subtle changes in your child’s personality, personal hygiene, and behavior? Did the group of friends cause concern for you? Did you dread the holidays, fearful that your child would disrupt the festivities, and that your family would discover the frightful reality? Did you meet with teachers, talk to the family physician, and take the child to therapy? Did you pay for rent, treatment, court fees, bills for car repair and insurance, cell phone, and groceries. Did you do without in order to support your child? Did you tell your precious child, every single day, that your love was boundless?
Yes you did.
Did you deny the reality of the addiction, of the hold of addiction, of the evil of addiction? Did you agonize, weep, walk the floors, grind your teeth, toss and turn in bed, and go without sleep due to the constant worry? Did you become secretive, fearful, and jumpy? Did you withdraw into yourself, into a dark and lonely place, becoming obsessed with curing and saving your troubled child? Did you set aside your work, your spouse, your other children, your family and your friends to focus solely on the one child? Did your now unrecognizable child scream at you, abuse you, disrespect you, frighten you? Did you speak relentlessly and repeatedly of your love, of your commitment to your child’s recovery, of your determination to help? Did you permit your child to return to your house, into your loving embrace, time after time, even though house rules were broken, and crimes were committed? Did you love this child to the core of your being, despite the horrible behaviors?
Yes you did.
Because even though bad things happened to you, your love for this child has no conditions, your love has no limits, your love for your baby will endure until your last breath.
Because you are a good mother.
Member
Join Date: Apr 2016
Location: northern california
Posts: 740
my neighbor was a heroin addict from 17 on and off until his early 40's, the pain he caused his mother and dad was heartbreaking to say the least, he is now 60 and clean for many years and involved in recovery in LA and his mother is still alive so she was lucky to see him become successful.
Member
Join Date: Feb 2015
Posts: 146
This certainly rang true. The words written were lovely and took me back through the years of tender love and care to where we are now. It is two years since my AS has spoken to me. I did nothing but try to help him get on his feet in recovery. But since I would not submit to lies and manipulation when he relapsed, he cut me out of his life. I know where he is but little else. The hurt is buried and only surfaces once in a while, but I'm paying the price physically - my warranty if about up.
Member
Join Date: Jul 2014
Location: milwaukee wi
Posts: 3,574
good morning to all SR out there on the net..
1. happy Halloween
2. be safe this day and evening
3. my Melanie came to visit on Sat... only had her for a short time but it was so nice to see her... 500 little trick or treaters on Sunday.. we had such a grand weekend..
4 .. prayers and love to all..
1. happy Halloween
2. be safe this day and evening
3. my Melanie came to visit on Sat... only had her for a short time but it was so nice to see her... 500 little trick or treaters on Sunday.. we had such a grand weekend..
4 .. prayers and love to all..
Member
Join Date: Feb 2013
Posts: 923
Thank you for posting this Morning Glory. Have not posted nor been here for awhile as taking steps towards the best health I can-the toll taken is clear to me and even family now. Daughter has gone further downhill to living on the streets in SF and it is heartbreaking to see her. Husband is doing more of the visits and putting me on the phone. I say I love her and try to not say much more as there is no point in doing so. This post helped me to cry a few tears and release some of the 'sangry'-a word introduced a few months ago by 6 year old grandson-in his words, a mix of sad and angry...love that he is in touch with feelings. God Bless to all.
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