Friday, Jul 4, 2008
A single mother struggles with guilt, sadness and conflicting priorities. Dr. Diller says set limits, show your love -- and don't worry too much.
Feb 12, 2003 |
Dear Dr. Diller,
I have the most wonderful little almost-4-year-old boy in the world. Anything good that one can say about a child, I can say about Joey. Although quite high-spirited and rowdy, he is a delight, and I enjoy my time with him so much -- but we don't have enough time together.
I have a great job in a creative field with wonderful colleagues and more freedom and flexibility than most corporate jobs offer. But I'm just doing it for the money now, and I realize I'd rather be a housewife and full-time mother and do the things I pay a very nice preschool to do. The problem is that, as a single mother, I have only so much control over the future. If I don't get married to someone who can help with support, I will have to go on working full time, being solely responsible for our financial well-being. (Joey's dad is a musician and contributes to a college savings fund.)
I feel guilty that I didn't order my life differently -- I was always discouraged from marrying or even really getting very involved with boys and men. My mother stressed independence, which is good -- I'm glad I can care for myself and my child -- but I'm about to turn 41 and am very anxious and sad to think of having no more children.
My little boy seems fine; he doesn't seem to be suffering as a result of having a working mom. But what can I do about my own guilt and sadness? How can I work toward cheerfully accepting that this is my life when what I want is to marry a wonderful man and somehow acquire another child or two? I do know that I am an excellent mother, and I find parenting to be more creative and challenging than any project I've had in advertising or television.
My child does have a great father-son relationship; and I'm dating, which at 40, with a baby, is just so silly. But forgive this long ramble; I guess I'm writing for help with the terrible feelings of regret and guilt that I have, and advice about my predicament.
Sincerely,
Michelle
Ah, Michelle. You raise such fundamental questions about choice, life, fate and responsibility. I hope you are sophisticated and sensitive enough to know that I have no specific answers for your guilt and sadness. To offer you a "solution" would be to trivialize your understandable reactions to some core dilemmas of life. But let me share with you and other Salon readers some of my reactions to your letter.
I have not forgotten that Second Opinions is a pediatric advice column, but let me begin with the broad view for some of your more philosophical dilemmas. My first thought is of Hillel, a rabbi from the first century after Jesus who sought to offer a concise summary of our existential issues with our humanness. He had an uncanny ability to reduce chapters of philosophical and ethical discussion to one- or two-sentence aphorisms -- a quality my editor is always asking of me.
Hillel neatly addresses your questions with three questions of his own (apparently even in the second century, rabbis were using the same psychological techniques that therapists are taught today: When you get a hard question, answer it with a question; but I digress). They were: "If I am not for myself, who will be for me?" "If I am only for myself, what am I?" and "If not now -- when?"
You lament over the choices you've made in your life about your young son and what you can offer him now. You are conflicted over your need and desire to work, and your wish to spend more time with him. You regret the breakup of your marriage and wish that you could have foreseen the future when you chose his father as your spouse. These are not questions that require pediatric expertise as much as personal reflection. Perhaps Hillel's questions would be helpful to ask yourself as you try to balance what's best for you versus the needs of others. Also, implicit in Hillel's queries is the challenge -- which you might need -- to not simply sit around and think about your choices but to take action to resolve your dilemmas.
For my part, I would remind you that our choices are influenced by our talents, temperament, family upbringing and culture. We are not the sole instruments of choice; we also are affected by the people around us. A child obviously needs more from his parents and the people around them. Certain children, by virtue of their health, personality or development, call for more at various times in their lives (for example, a child with a serious health problem, like cerebral palsy, or a developmental delay, like Down syndrome, or for that matter a child with a "difficult" temperament or one who has gone through a divorce).
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