From Fracture to Forgiveness: Navigating a Painful Mother-Daughter Relationship in the Haze of Postpartum
anonymous guest post
One of the many unexpected side effects of becoming a mom is the way it forces you to look at your relationship with your own mother anew. For some, this elicits feelings of profound gratitude, love, and admiration. For others, the feelings are much less positive.
This story is one of the latter. This author (who asked to remain anonymous) remembers her journey to forgiveness with a mother who could not be there to support her and how she learned from becoming a mother herself to understand and forgive her mother.
I think we all dream of that moment when we introduce our brand new babies to the person who birthed us, a magical experience connecting us emotionally to one who intimately knows the significance of umbilical cords and belly buttons. It promises a bond that many mothers anticipate: when their daughters catch an unfiltered glimpse of the love mothers have for their children, never to be fully appreciated until they themselves have experienced it.
So what happens when this isn’t the way it goes? Sometimes it’s due to the painful loss of our mothers too soon. This is an ache that I will never claim to understand. These brave new mamas deal with a new wave of grief, mourning the loss of a relationship that never got to be: grandchild and grandmother.
My story is a little different. My mother still walks this earth, but our relationship is fractured. The damage of her own mangled relationship with her mother made it difficult for her to fully take on her role to be mine. Early in her childhood, she was neglected and ripped away from her family. Growing up in the foster system in the 60s and 70s left her scared, scarred, and without a good picture of what healthy parenting was supposed to look like. There was no known “golden standard” of what a mom should do, just a very clear image of what a mother/daughter relationship should not look like. Every time our relationship would threaten to rub off an unhealed scab of the pain of her childhood, or when dreams and longings of what she hoped she could restore in her own mothering of me did not go in the direction she was expecting (both through her own abilities or my personality traits), she would either shut down completely or aggressively lash out at me to protect her pride and utterly broken heart. So much of her emotional health was based on how smoothly she felt our relationship was going, and that has always been too much of a burden for me to bear.
When it was my turn to embrace the sacred act of caring for my newborn, I realized that my own mother was not ready to coach me or even be involved due to the wounds of past experiences and unmet expectations in her parenting voyage. In her heart I know she yearned for the intimacy and involvement of being with her daughter while I learned to be a mom myself, but these expectations were never expressed during my pregnancy. Instead, they came out like hot lava starting about three days after my son was born, when I was past the honeymoon stage and straight into the deer-in-the-headlights stage.
During the postpartum period, I found myself gasping for air as I struggled with the dual realities that I had no idea what I was doing and that my mother was in full attack mode. These attacks vacillated between passive aggressive (ignoring texts or calls, making excuses as to why she couldn’t come over, and complete silence from her on both my birthday and Mother’s Day) to well-aimed arrows straight to my heart (including a two-page bullet-pointed email describing in detail everything offensive I had done to her during the past six months). I quickly concluded that I was left to figure things out by myself while navigating the grief of longing for a person that I never truly got to meet: the mom I wanted her to be, the mom she wanted to be. I needed to let go of the expectation of this imaginary person and learn to embrace the reality of what was in front of me: a broken relationship with a broken person in this broken world.
I needed to let go of the expectation of this imaginary person and learn to embrace the reality of what was in front of me: a broken relationship with a broken person in this broken world.
How do we maneuver through these turbulent feelings, changing from anger to grief, all while exhausted and scrambling to learn our new responsibilities the best that we can? How do we find hope of a future full of joy and security when we don’t even know what to picture? This was incredibly difficult for me with my first baby. Now, after two more babies with varying levels of involvement with my mom, I am slowly learning to find my footing in the balancing act of expectations and grace.
It may seem counter-cultural, but the first step in this road is forgiveness. Jesus reminds us of the importance of this action. In Matthew 18:21, his response to Peter’s question of how often we forgive is “not seven times, but seventy times seven” (NLT). That was not meant to keep score but to emphasize the fact that God forgives us endlessly and expects us to do the same for others.
Now, I’m not saying this means that we forgive and then put ourselves out there to be hurt again. While going through a marriage ministry curriculum called ReEngage, I learned so much about relationships in general, and especially what forgiveness really looks like. Forgiveness is NOT forgetting or condoning actions and stepping back into potentially harmful situations. It is definitely not just a feeling either. From my own experience, it is not a natural progression to just suddenly feel like you can finally forgive. What forgiveness is, though, is pardoning or giving grace and dismissing any expectation of being repaid for your pain. Forgiveness, like love, is a choice you make (sometimes daily). Letting go of that expectation and grudge, whether your feelings are completely justified or not, is one of the most freeing and lightening experiences, and doing so gives you room to grow as a person and as a mom to your new, beautiful baby.
We also need to remember that we serve a God who revives and revitalizes. He specializes in raising things from the dead. I know how incredibly painful it is to hold hope for a restored relationship all while trying not to give in to the despair of disappointment when there are setbacks. The dance between optimism and discouragement has left me with plenty of bruised toes and a broken heart. At the same time, it has worked me like a ballerina, calluses and injuries strengthening my feet and making my heart more durable, building my endurance to dance longer and more gracefully as I navigate my own mothering. With time and God’s help, you will be able to weather the ache and allow yourself to heal, and maybe even pursue a deeper relationship with your mother.
The dance between optimism and discouragement has . . . worked me like a ballerina, calluses and injuries strengthening my feet and making my heart more durable, building my endurance to dance longer and more gracefully as I navigate my own mothering.
The last thing that I needed to realize before I could move into a healthier position in my journey of motherhood was that, despite the pain, attacks, rejection, withdrawal, indifference, or aggression, she truly does love me. Whatever the situation is that rules the presentation of your relationship with your mother, she truly does love you. You have a new glimpse into your mother’s heart because you now understand what it is like to be a mother, the complexity of emotions involved with developing a love for your new baby in the midst of circumstances that make things complicated, scary, or difficult.
I want you to hold your baby and dwell upon how it feels to have that responsibility. Does it intimidate you? Does it flood you with joy? Are you exhausted and overwhelmed? Does your heart feel like bursting out of your chest just from how much you love your baby’s tiny nose? Your mother feels all of these when she looks at you or even thinks about you: how beautiful you were as a baby, how much she adores you, and how terrifying this role is to her. Some people are not given the gift of having the tools to deal with the extreme juxtaposition of emotions. But you now have the chance to see both sides of the story, to understand just how complex the emotional territory of motherhood really is.
You now understand what it is like to be a mother, the complexity of emotions involved with developing a love for your new baby in the midst of circumstances that make things complicated, scary, or difficult.
Remember, forgiveness will free you up to be a more present and unburdened mother. God specializes in healing and restoring incredibly broken situations. There will always be hope, even though it is arduous. God will use your broken toes and heart to build strength, endurance, and grace.
To be honest, I’m still in that dance. In some ways, conversations with my mother are still unchoreographed, with the awkward avoidance of topics or memories that will make one of us react to the pain of the past and get us off sync with each other once again. In other ways, I’ve learned to choose to remember my forgiveness, to take a beat, breathe, and remember that the present is not the past and that not everything that is uncomfortable is dangerous. I have grown so much as a person through this situation, learning to navigate conflict and to realize that my value as a mother, daughter, or human does not lie in how harmonized all of my relationships are.
Mama, you are not alone as you maneuver through the extreme emotions of the postpartum stage. There are women out there ready to guide or come alongside you as you work through this transition. Please reach out if this is you! I didn’t until much later, and I regret those months that I tried to hold on to all of this on my own. Prayerfully consider if there is a woman whom you could picture as a mentor. Ask a mother that you respect and could feel comfortable with to meet you for coffee (you know you need it anyway). Try to go to a mom’s group at church or a women’s Bible study to meet others to help you know you’re not alone (especially if they have childcare, use that resource!). Or if you are lost and just need someone who understands to be a listening ear, my information will be available for anyone who requests it. I would love to hear from you, encourage you, and show you that there is hope for peace in this painful place.
Mama, let me say it again: you are not alone. You do not need to be perfect, and I know just how much you love both your mother and your new baby even though it’s complicated. You can persevere with God’s help. You can have hope as you rely on the Parent who loves you abundantly and perfectly. He is the author of pure love, and He will guide you through this dark, winding road and turn it into something beautiful in the end.
Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.
- 1 Corinthians 13:4-7
