“AM I DOING THIS RIGHT?” MODERN PARENT CONTEST

My Battle with Sadness as a Parent

I’m ashamed when my son sees me cry, but I know I shouldn't be.

This post is an entry in Modern Parent’s “Am I Doing This Right?” writing contest.

My 2-year old son watched as I started sobbing a few nights ago. He was finishing his dinner and playing with his toy cars when he noticed my change in demeanour and the tears started rolling down my face.

He immediately came close to me but carried on playing with his toys, occasionally looking back at me and making sure he was close enough to be physically touching me. Shortly after, he sat on my lap.

I’m not sure if he thought he needed to comfort me at this point or if he needed reassurance that his mother was OK. Either way, I felt guilty as hell about it.

The reason I was crying is that my husband and I had started having a tough conversation, one that was necessary but difficult for me. My husband hadn’t realised how much it would affect my mood but as soon as he saw the change in me, he suggested we table it for another time. By then, however, it was too late. The thoughts had entered my head and I couldn’t stop myself from spiraling.

My husband proceeded to play with our son, presumably to ensure he was OK while I tried to pull myself together. I left the room and let myself cry for a couple of minutes in the kitchen. I managed to stop the tears so that I could grab my son and get him ready for bed. But as I sang his bedtime songs, my voice kept breaking, fighting me to let me cry some more. The more I resisted, the harder it was to hold myself back.

The Guilt is Immeasurable

There is an inevitable feeling of guilt when you enter motherhood. No matter what, there seems to be a sacrifice somewhere, and something always nags at the back of your mind that makes you question whether you made the right choice.

Logic and instinct seem to be at constant conflict with each other. Self-doubt trumps reason, and we never quite know what is right.

The pandemic only exacerbated this constant feeling of guilt for us and most parents. I felt sorry that I couldn’t take my son to playdates or to the baby classes he had grown accustomed to attending. Guilty because I didn’t feel creative enough or fun enough to meet my son’s needs for stimulation. Guilty that he couldn't even go to the local park, and how he was and is still too young to understand why there are certain rules in place we must adhere to.

“Am I doing this right?” seems to be one of the most asked questions between me and other mummy friends.

Crying in front of my son is one of those questionable actions for me. He is only 2 and barely knows how to process emotions, let alone know what to do with other people’s.

Acknowledging Sadness

Crying has always come easily to me. I have shed a lot of tears since my son was born, particularly in the first few months. Lots of those tears were tears of absolute joy. But lots of them were not.

They were hard times because I was often alone. My husband was working extremely long hours before the pandemic and was regularly absent at night, leaving me to deal with the stress of a non-sleeping baby as well as struggling to manage during the day single-handedly. I refused professional help such as a nanny or a sleep expert because I told myself I could do it.

That combined with the changes that come with motherhood — the hormones; priority shifts; abandonment and formation of new principles; and ultimately, a shift in my identity— not just as a new mother, but as a woman in the 21st Century, sent me into a journey of a downward spiral.

However, our baby was small then and I found it easier to let myself cry in front of him when things got tough. But he’s more aware now.

A big question I have asked myself, especially these last few months as my son gets bigger and still only really sees his parents due to the pandemic, is, how am I supposed to teach my son to deal with sadness when I sometimes find it so hard?

How I act during a sad wave will shape how Andriel learns to cope with sadness.

This particular parenting lesson is one of the hardest ones for me to teach.

Ensuring The Wellbeing of Your Child Before Your Own

My husband did the right thing by changing the subject and playing with our son the other day. He could’ve got annoyed at my reaction, thus making the situation worse. He could’ve accused me of being “too” sensitive like some men would certainly do. But he gave me an out of the situation to let me gather myself. He taught my son the art of giving others space when they need it, even if only for a minute or two, which goes a long way.

However, what about the times when no one is available to tag in or show comfort when you’re fighting tears? I know I could have done with a hug more than once, and simply hugging my son when I’m sad makes me feel selfish.

There have been times when I have needed comfort and instead, I have had to comfort my son. Pulling myself together during those low times is one of the most excruciating things I have ever done. Crying is one way I deal with extreme emotions and it’s therapeutic. But when there’s a little human looking up to you wondering what’s going on, I don’t feel comfortable letting it out.

Finding an alternative way to deal with sadness before it ends up forcing its way out of us uncontrollably is vital. We must be able to healthily express our emotions without them taking over us and inevitably teach our kids unhealthy habits.

Almost suppressing our feelings in the short-term in order to preserve peace at that moment is also fine, so long as it’s being dealt with later rather than swept under the carpet.

Sobbing In Front Of Your Child Is Not Shameful

No, I don’t feel comfortable when I cry in front of my son. Yes, I often fight back the tears to ensure he can carry on enjoying himself and I am not disrupting him.

But sometimes, we just need a good cry. Sometimes, the situation is simply overwhelming.

This morning, my son cried about something quite small, it escapes me why. But later, in conversation with his father, Andriel informed him how he had cried.

My husband sympathetically said sorry that he got upset and that he hoped he was OK now. Andriel responded that his friend cried the other day, and then made the crying motion. Then, he said “mummy” and then made the crying sound again. I interpret this positively — we are helping to normalise a common emotion, one that is inevitable but necessary to have in order to get through life.

“When kids interpret sad feelings as part of a normal ebb and flow of emotion, they can respond with patience and optimism. This helps kids cope and prevents depression.” — Kidshealth

Not only that, but by showing him that sadness is part of life, we nurture and enable the development of empathy, a valuable life skill that will open doors and boost his relationship building.

Self-Care Is Vital for Parents

If there is anything I have learned as a parent, it’s to love myself.

When I started to really care about my own needs and desires, I flourished. I became a better mother to my son when I looked after myself first. Yes, I made sure our son was cared for and loved all along, but I fulfilled everything I needed to with more love, more energy, and more groove than ever before.

I found ways to ride through my sadness and immediately feel better. But these tactics, not only were they therapeutic, they helped to prevent extreme sad emotions.

Before I sleep-trained our son, I was moody, irritable, forgetful, and stressed. When we both started sleeping regularly and consistently, a cloud lifted and I felt more in control. Today, my sadness is manageable.

I organised our lives. Playdates and outings were easy. I found ways to do everything one usually does child-free, like wash my hair and put on makeup, without a crying baby next to me, but a happy and busy infant.

During the start of the first lockdown in March 2020, I started walking 5k a day with my son in the carrier and I lost 9kg (20 odd lb). I felt friggin’ great.

I started appreciating the smaller, simpler things. I began to really practice gratitude. Genuine, heartfelt, exciting, and pure gratitude.

I took the lockdown as an opportunity. I actively went back to basics since there was nothing else to be enjoyed. No social life, no shopping, no distractions.

I sought out the small bit of nature that our small town has to offer. Some woodland, a couple of lakes, and a few parks. We let nature take over our senses and bring us to the here and the now — the sound of the breeze brushing the leaves of trees. The smell of pine wood. The sight of ducks paddling in the lake. And I watched my son enjoy it all.

I’ve always used music as an instant mood changer, but I really focused on putting it on during the lockdown to keep the mood in the house cheery and happy. I dance every day with our son. We love music in this house and it almost instantly lifts our spirits — daily.

The fact we are in the midst of a pandemic and I feel more than good shows just how much we can thrive when we look after ourselves more and worry about others a little less.

Because I look after myself, my sadness is more stable. Because I love myself, I am aware of my feelings and I don’t lash out anymore. Because I feel great, I don’t take things out on others anymore. And if I start getting irritable again, I ask myself, what’s wrong?

I hope that the way I lift my spirits will teach my son to maintain a sense of self-contentment in his adult life when he inevitably faces hard times.

Acknowledging Sadness Builds Resilience

I know that it is OK for my baby to see me cry. I know he needs to feel validated to cry, and what better way than to learn from his own parents? Crying is not weak. Crying is not shameful.

My discomfort around this is not objective. I feel uncomfortable because of the way I have grown up. I have been conditioned to believe that if you cry it is because you’re too weak and fragile. But this view is wrong and I won’t pass it on to my children.

Going against my nature is hard, but if I can do it with messy play (allowing my son to get dirty with mud, paint, food, etc even though I am OCD about cleanness and tidiness) then I can do it with sadness, too.

If I can go against my nature and become OK with my son letting me cry, I will teach him to also feel OK to cry in front of others when he needs to. I know that it is more accepted for women to cry than men, however, so it is only more vital for us as parents to show him that men do indeed cry, and that’s OK.

Justin Baldoni, actor in Jane The Virgin, and author of Man Enough: Undefining My Masculinity, challenges men to:

“be brave enough to be vulnerable, to be strong enough to be sensitive, to be confident enough to listen.” — Goodreads

Not only will it be up to us to beat the old societal expectations of men, but to set a new trend where everybody’s emotions are acknowledged and validated. Women won’t be seen as fragile for being sad, and men won’t be seen as less masculine for showing a little vulnerability.

In fact, showing Andriel that crying is OK participates in the wider issue within society. Not teaching him the right lesson would not only be detrimental to him, but it would slow down progress as a whole.

Takeaway

Crying is normal. Crying is OK. But what comes right after is important. I prefer being able to control my crying, or even better, dealing with a sad issue before it sends me to uncontrollable tears.

Learning to find ways to cope with sadness in front of your children will teach them to also cope. Practising gratitude, exercise, seeking out nature, and music are just a few simple ways that not only help ride through the wave of sadness and are immediately therapeutic — but they help to prevent the overwhelming feelings in the first place. They help make sadness more manageable.

I used the pandemic to teach me how to cope with sadness. I don’t always deal with it well, but I think I’ve got this 7 or 8 times out of 10. That’s much better than a couple of years ago, I assure you.

And last, but not least, I know that by teaching my son to show sadness and be proactive about it, I am teaching him that as a man, he should not be expected to show a brave face all the time.

So, yes, I have felt ashamed for crying in front of my son, but I won’t let that shame be passed on to Andriel or any future children.

Sylvia Emokpae is passionate about self-love and motherhood. See more work like this.

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