Dark mothering

I'd like to think I'm a sunny person, but there is a deep, dark streak in me. It's inherited from generations that came before who had to be on the lookout for every possible obstacle to crop success. From all my foremothers who watched their children die of diseases they could not treat, and forefathers who ate nothing but beans for months when times were hard, I have that ability to find the dark spot in the gratitude.

When I say that, I mean it's not just that I'm grateful that I get to take hot showers. It's that I also think, "I could totally slip and die in this shower. Nobody slipped and died in the metal tubs that held a couple inches of cold water for bathing back when my grandmommy was a little girl."(Although they did die of scarlet fever).

Motherhood brought out that streak in spades, especially at the beginning when my hormones and sleep cycle were all messed up. I'd think about how I was going to die before my baby IF I WAS LUCKY. And how I should really get back into the habit of exercising so I would preserve my mental acuity and balance as long as humanly possible so we could enjoy each other's company as long as possible.

Possibly the darkest thing I ever thought, though, was, when I was in the throes of dealing with my newborn, and I was struggling with it, that I had better enjoy this time because he could get SIDS and die and I would have been annoyed and upset so much of the time he was actually alive and THEN I'd feel guilty.

And then I'd feel crazy and angry at myself. Not helpful. I used all my mindfulness skills I'd honed in Quaker meeting for observing the thoughts I had and then letting them go.

Now that he's a toddler, I think a lot fewer dark thoughts. It's mostly because I get better at feeling adequate the more his emotional and communicative range develops. (Some people like the immobile baby stage best -- it's not really my bag, though.) It's also because I've seen what can happen when you start thinking of worst possible outcomes and catastrophizing -- it's neurotic and doesn't help with real life -- and I don't want to put that burden on my son.

Or me. Because it really puts a greater burden on you to think, "I had better X because horrible thing Y could happen." It's not bittersweet at all, it's just emotional pee in your pool.