twinutero

An old Family Circus cartoon shows an unflustered mother in a swirl of children. Calm-mom in a toddler tornado. A passer-by says something like “How do you divide your love among so many kids?” She replies, “I don’t divide it, I multiply it.”

My first, and most difficult lesson so far is to let the love multiply but try – try – to keep the guilt in check.

Guilty feelings seem a part of motherhood. One of the first things a friend said to me after the delivery of her second child was “The guilt….” This seems more true now than in my mother’s generation because the demands have changed. We know the importance of early mother-infant bonding and that being an attentive, responsive mother is doesn’t spoil a baby but is vital to their development. It’s easy, especially with multiples, to feel there is never enough of you to go around, and that surely your children will be permanently damaged as a result.

Small reminders of responsibility and potential inadequacy are everywhere. The Schopenhauer Cure, a novel I was reading during my daily few minutes of escapism says: “Children deprived of a maternal love bond fail to develop the basic trust necessary to love themselves, to believe that others will love them, or to love being alive.” Granted this is fiction – but fiction written by a professor of psychiatry. So much for escapism. (I’ve given up on the novel.)

I find books like the Sears’ Baby Book which advocates ‘attachment parenting’ (breastfeeding, co-sleeping, and wearing your baby as much as possible) also fuel guilt – partly because I think they are right. The mother and biologist in me says that human infants need to be carried, breastfed on demand and held closely as they gradually become independent people. But try it with twins. Try it with twins and a toddler. All three are crying and you have only two arms. Who do you reach for first?

In her book Dish, Barbara Moses argues that guilt is an overused term, and makes the distinction between guilt and shame. Betraying, or feeling you have betrayed, moral values can give rise to guilt. I might feel guilty if I return to work full-time but believe that staying home with my kids is really the right thing to do. Shame, however, stems from failing to comply with social pressure to behave in a particular way. Even if I am completely comfortable with returning to work, I might feel shame if I am subjected to constant pressure (from other mothers etc.) to spend more time with my children. I think this is useful distinction for these types of problems and I may write more about it when I return to work in a few months.

But another more useful distinction for me is that between guilt and regret. I regret that I can’t hold all three babies at once or give each my undivided attention. I shouldn’t, though, feel guilty about it. I am not doing anything wrong. In fact, I am almost turning myself inside out to do everything right.

I don’t have this all figured out, and I struggle daily with conflicted emotions as I aspire to something resembling a balanced life. In the meantime, I have to trust that there is, and always will be, an unique bond between me and each of my kids. But I also know that I am not the only “significant other” in their lives. Grandparents, our part-time nanny, our toddler’s home-care provider, and of course, their Dad all have a special and invaluable relationship with our kids.