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| Robin Rocky Mountain Stroke Survivors |
“Mama,” asks my four year old. “When am I going to have my stroke?” He always asks to see a photo of what I’ve painted in art therapy this week and makes encouraging comments, “I like it!” he exclaims. “That’s a really green tree!”
“Mahhhhh! Mahhhh!” my baby wails for me at night as my husband carries her to another part of the house so I can sleep.
“But I want you to go toooooooo!” my four year old objects. “I won’t have any fun without you!”
Mama guilt. We all have it. Mama guilt after a stroke is just a different flavor of a familiar sauce. I thought that the stroke would free me from it…that my needs are great enough that I would let go of the guilt and just take care of myself. It’s not that simple.
I try to keep in mind the edict of all the flight attendants who have ever given a safety talk right before the plane takes off…always put on your own oxygen mask before helping the person next to you. But every time I hear it, I wonder. If that moment came that there was no oxygen in the plane, would I really be capable of watching my babies suffer until I got my mask situated? I don’t know.
So I continue in the balancing act familiar to all mamas. Work, home, and personal life. In my case, “personal life” encompasses activities like pool therapy and a midday nap. But it really isn’t that different from the juggling I was doing six months ago. So much has changed and yet so little has changed.
In the end, I know I will screw up my kids somehow regardless of the stroke or how many hours I do or don’t work or how I manage to keep juggling and in the end, I know they will be okay. I love them dearly and they know it. I have to believe that love will cover a multitude of mistakes.
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