Learning a new way to be a mother

Volume 22 of Unspoken Words: Susan Landers, MD

Welcome to the Unspoken Words series, held at Being in Motherhood. This series focuses on giving mothers space to share their unspoken words about motherhood; the things that are hard, taboo, scary to admit, etc., I ask mothers to share with me and I share them with you.

If you are looking for more of the Unspoken Words series, you can find other pieces here.

I am excited to introduce

Susan Landers, MD

, you can connect with her at Moms Matter.

About Susan

I am a retired neonatologist who worked in various NICUs for over thrity years caring for babies and their mothers. I worked full-time while also raising three children, now all young adults. I am also a grandmother, so I have experienced all the phases and milestones of motherhood - the good, the bad, and the wonderful.

What is one thing that is hard for you to admit about motherhood?

When I was tired and sleep deprived I resorted to old family scripts and yelled at my children. I wanted to abolish this family tendency, and there were times when I could do it less, but I did not abolish it altogether. I deeply regret that I ever yelled at my children as a result of my own short temper and frustrations. They rarely deserved to be yelled at!

What is another thing that is hard for you to admit about motherhood?

In motherhood and during matrescence, we do not know what kind of mother we will evolve into. My personal model, my own mother, was very cold and standoffish. She did not express or show love outwardly. I had to learn how to make my own way and say, "I love you" and give lots of hugs, even when I did not feel like it. I had to learn to be the mother that I never had.

Share any other thoughts that are hard for you to admit about motherhood.

This is a passage from my memoir, "So Many Babies."

"My life as a busy neonatologist and a working mother proceeded, and I continued to learn many new things as I went along those first two years. One Saturday morning post-call, I had been awake continuously for over twenty-four hours. My NICU shift had been long and difficult. The previous night we admitted fragile, 28 weeks gestation, premature twins, followed by yet another baby with Group B Strep sepsis. After checking out with my partner, I trudged home late that morning. Phillip was walking out the door on his way into the hospital to see his patients, and I was home alone with David, who was then a toddler.

I was exhausted from my previous shift, but I attempted to play with my son for a while. I intended to play a little, then quickly put him down for a nap, but David had a different idea. He remained wide awake, eager to play, or read, or run around, or do anything other than sleep. I tried several times to make him lie down for his nap so that I could get some sleep.

Usually he was so easy to put down for a nap, but not that day. Every time I put him down in his crib, he popped up, fussing. Of course, this prevented me from getting my much-needed nap after such a difficult night on-call. This back and forth went on several times, and I just could not make him settle down and be quiet. My very short, frazzled fuse had been lit and I yelled at him. Then he began to cry. It pains me to admit that I found myself slapping his little legs, hard, over and over again. I was horrified, and I felt as if I had entered a dream. Somehow, I was able to go outside of myself and see what I was doing. I was slapping my helpless, beloved, little boy.

This moment was so terrifying for me that I will never forget it. I had put red marks, handprints, on his little legs. My old childhood tapes had taken over playing in my brain. Fortunately, I recognized immediately that I was hurting him, stopped slapping him, grabbed and hugged him tightly. By then, both of us were crying fiercely. I sat down in the rocker and held him. Each of us cried for some time that day while I rocked him to sleep.

I did not want to let go of my son that day. I could hardly believe what I had done, but I knew that I needed help. On Monday I scheduled a visit with a psychologist. This woman helped me to see that I was programmed from an early age to react physically, like my father who had physically beaten me and my siblings. She helped me understand that I knew well how to hit or slap, and scream, and yell. I had been raised in a household where screaming, yelling, and physical trauma were tolerated. It took some months, but she convinced me that I could learn a new way to be a mother, a way that did not involve any physical punishment. I desperately wanted to raise my children differently than my parents had raised me. I desperately wanted my children to know love, to feel like they were loved, and to grow up with good self-esteem.

So, I met with the psychologist regularly and persuaded my husband to join us, too. I needed him to assist me from boiling over when I was extremely tired or angry. Fortunately, that was the only incident throughout the first decade of my being a mother that I completely lost control of myself and hit my child. There were plenty of other times that I yelled or screamed at one of my children. Nevertheless, my singular goal for those early years was no hitting or slapping. I slowly learned how to control myself with an active, small child and tolerate the stresses of full-time NICU work."

What truth(s) has motherhood taught you?

You can be whatever kind of mother you want to be, and there are people around who will help you if you feel scared or worried.

What does it feel like to be in motherhood in this season?

Oh my God, how I love watching my older daughter be a great mother to her two children, seven and four years of age. She is soft and tender, funny and active, loving and caring. She never yells at them! Hooray.

What advice, words up support, or encouragement would you give to other mothers out there?

Talk with someone about your internal tapes, the messages in your head that were laid there from very early in your life, about how you should be and what you should do. Sometimes those negative messages can hurt us, not help us.

Is there anything else you feel called to share about your experience of motherhood?

I always gained tremendous support from my friends and work colleagues who were also working mothers just trying to make good decisions and make everything fit into those precious days.

Thank you Susan for sharing your words with us.

I appreciated your honesty, I bawled through editing your post because I struggled with my anger and those old messages from childhood. It is another job entirely to work with those messages and to not let them hijack our parenting. It is beautiful to see how you shifted things for yourself, it is not an easy task. Thank you for letting us hold this space for you.

Love,

Emma

Please share in the comments or reply to this email your own reflections and/or support of Susan sharing her words.

This is a space where we can say the hard things about motherhood and life, while lifting each other up in love and support. I have found this community of mothers to be extremely compassionate and welcoming.

I invite you to share this post with a mother who may needs these reminders.