I have guilt.  It’s not rational, it’s emotional.  I have guilt that my daughter is the way she is.  I often think of how she could be, as opposed to how she is.  Did I do something intentionally?  Well, we know the answer to that is no.   I didn’t take any drugs, or smoke anything.  I didn’t eat tons of fish, or drink caffeine or alcohol.  I did what the doctors told me to do.  I didn’t have anything out of the ordinary happen during her birth.  (That I remember or know of)  However, I still have guilt about every moment of that time.  Every moment.  What did I do or not do that made it happen this way?  Why does one child have something like this and another does not?  I can’t answer any of these with any kind of rational answer. It’s not possible, but I still feel guilt.

I have guilt.  I have guilt that my daughter has not grown up as a “normal” girl.  That she has not had friendships like most girls.  She hasn’t had boyfriends, clubs, sports, driving or college.  Phoebe needs constant care.  She is an 18-year old that needs someone to watch her and make sure she is cared for.  She can do a lot, but still needs consistent guidance.  Phoebe does have a great support group.  She has caregivers, and family that do a lot for her, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  They have learned to work around Phoebe’s different needs.  For this, I have horrible guilt, and it’s not rational.

I have guilt.  I have guilt that Phoebe’s brother hasn’t had a normal childhood.  Being the sibling of a special needs child is hard.  He works around what’s best for her. You can’t imagine the tears that were shed when they were little.  Brendan didn’t understand, and would sit and cry.  I would cry with him and try to explain.  Eventually, it was our normal.  He got used to it and would keep right on going with whatever he was doing.  Now, he’s a “normal” teenage boy who has to work around his sisters schedule.  I can’t imagine the freedom he will feel when he gets a drivers license and can leave this house.  I have tremendous guilt for this.  All I ever wanted for him was a normal childhood.

This guilt is my own problem.  I will never admit that it crosses my mind more than a few times a week.  My children are happy (dramatic), thriving teens.  They both have a great support system.  I have worked hard to make it that way.

I have guilt.  I am a Mom. 🙂