The Guilt

What is it with the guilt? I always let it get the best of me. I feel guilty about 90% of the time and I cannot shake it. I thought it was “mom guilt” but, looking back I’ve always felt guilty about something.

When I couldn’t get pregnant I felt guilty that I couldn’t give my husband and my family the child that, as a woman, I should’ve been able to. I felt guilty in my deep depression that I couldn’t be happier for my friends and family when they got pregnant. I felt guilty for wanting to go back for treatments to try to get pregnant even though we were going deeper into debt with every attempt. I felt guilty for being jealous and being stubborn and self-centered.

Now that I have Evan who, by the way, is the most perfect child in the world (of course) the guilt is even bigger than it was back then. Now I have the guilt of sending him to daycare, the guilt when I want to go do something for myself instead of hanging out with him, the guilt when he’s crying and I can’t console him, the guilt for putting him in his bouncy seat for 15 minutes so I can clean up the kitchen instead of spending that time interacting with him. It’s just all guilt all the time.

And it doesn’t stop with Evan. I have guilt for not staying late at work or for taking three 15 minute breaks so I can pump. I have guilt for not paying more attention to my husband, for not exercising more often, for spending money on myself, for snapping at my dogs or not giving them more attention, for not being a good friend, for asking Joe to help me when I should be able to do it all.

I think that’s what it all boils down to. I have always wanted to be everything to everyone. A people pleaser, able to do whatever it takes to get the job done. It comes with the first child territory. But, you know, that is just completely impossible. It’s an unrealistic goal that no one is able to achieve. So putting myself down because I can’t make the impossible happen is ridiculous, I know that, but I can’t stop doing it. I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, too much pride to ask for help.

I try to keep things in perspective and remind myself that at the end of the day I gave the most I could. Even if it means I ran out of work at exactly 4:00 or if I only emailed my friends instead of calling or if I let Evan play on his mat while I fixed myself some dinner. Life is busy and complicated and overwhelming sometimes but as long as me and Joe and Evan are happy and healthy, that’s really all that matters. I’m not saying I’ll easily kick the guilty feelings out of my life but I do need to try. I can’t continue to put myself down. I have to reward myself for the good things I am accomplishing.