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Parenting rewards
Admittedly, alongside being a wife, being a mother is difficult. It’s rewarding and amazing... and difficult.
My oldest son was conceived during the time I was being trafficked. Saving his life was my motivation for escaping.
The journey has been difficult for me. I was detached from my pregnancy, and having PTSD with a newborn...
If I could go back and mother him differently those first years of his life I would in a heart beat. The sadness I feel for my inability during those years I don’t think will ever go away. Despite still working on this subject with my therapist. My head knows I did the best I could, my heart though is another matter.
He is now 13 and never for a day do I question my choice to keep him. I don’t know where the other half of his genes come from. Some day I’ll tell him the whole truth. For now he knows just the part where my husband isn’t his biological father(but we’ve been together since I was pregnant with him.. he’s a saint for loving me through all my baggage) and I don’t know who is. I know he is curious. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there though.
My son only shows affection typically with hugs in the morning and at night. He’s made some bad choices and the consequences were decided by a judge. On top of covid, he already struggles with depression and anxiety. Now this.
I’d like to believe with therapy I’m continuing to become a better mother. I’m honest with my son. I’m real with him.
Yesterday had a big difficult moment with him. I try my best to validate his feeling and work with him through things. And alongside him to teach him new things.
An unexpected 2 moments happened in the evening that were small but not something he usually does. He took my plate after I finished dinner, unprompted... not that it’s even a thing I ask my kids to do. And during the kids break from electronic time before bed, he came and just sat with me on my bed. Something that is common for his brother to do... but not him.
Those 2 seemingly small things were big in my heart. I’m hoping it means I did something good with him yesterday. Not for me, but for him. I want my kids to feel secure. Know that they’re loved and that I’ll always love them and always fight for them. That I’m not perfect, I won’t make the best choices sometimes. I’ll ask them to forgive me when I need to, and be honest. Yes I am their mother... but I’m also human and have been through a lot and and always fighting to learn and improve.
#CPTSD #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #Anxiety #Depression #humantraffickingsurvivor #Parenting
