Mindfulness for motherless mothers
A “motherless mother” is an expression seen commonly in published books and journals for mothers who have lost their own mothers early in life. Although it sounds confronting, almost unsympathetic, there are many mothers who subscribe to various support groups, online Forums, and blogs that cater for women described this way.
When my first baby was born, I was familiar with this concept. I was a motherless mother — and I had prepared myself with the knowledge that a new mum needs to be mothered and that I would have to mother myself. I expected that the turbulence of emotions, changing hormones and low self-confidence could make even the easiest transition harder. I thought to myself, “I can handle this.” I would mother myself by being my best advocate and build self-confidence through constant reassurance.
However, as I embarked on my new journey into motherhood, I found mothering myself an impossible priority. I instead found myself spending those first weeks running around my house in my daggiest trackies and Ugg boots, trying to respond to the immediate needs of my son. When I did manage to get out of the house, I was unprepared for the pangs of envy I felt when I saw new mothers with their own mums sitting in cafes together with the new grandchild in the pram nearby, or when I saw heavily pregnant ladies shopping for newborn items with the help of their very knowledgeable mums.
When I did manage to get out of the house, I was unprepared for the pangs of envy I felt when I saw new mothers with their own mums sitting in cafes together.
I joined a mothers group, hoping to find the support and reassurance I craved. I visited the local library to participate in weekly rhyme and story time and I joined a playgroup. The women I met were wonderful and were amazingly supportive mothers, but I would bite my tongue every time I heard a new mum complain about their own interfering or all-knowing mums who were so involved in their lives. I would think sadly to myself, “Well, at least your mum is alive!” I felt like it wasn’t fair. Why didn’t I have my mother to share her wisdom and knowledge about motherhood, or even to say to me, “You’re a wonderful mother”?
Looking back now, the reality that I was a motherless mother probably sank in when I fell pregnant. As we celebrated the impending addition to our family, I was surprised to feel the long-reaching tentacles of grief, even though my beloved mother had passed away a year before I fell pregnant with my son.
During pregnancy, I felt isolated and alone without my mother to call and ask for advice about what to expect or to share the joys of the baby kicking, moving and growing inside of me. I always imagined that pregnancy would involve long chats and lazy coffees with my mum; she’d lend her full support, be a pillar of strength to laugh with and to share in the joy of motherhood. But, instead, I was faced with a world where my mum was no longer there and I was suddenly hit with the old feelings of grief again. I really missed my mum.
When I felt myself starting on a downward spiral after my son was born, with the grief and resentment manifesting, I quickly turned to mindfulness. I had used mindfulness on a few occasions prior to going on maternity leave, while employed in a high-stress corporate job, so I was familiar with the meditative technique. It had helped me clearly comprehend a present situation and I had found it to be especially useful when unexpected circumstances had clouded reality. This time, I planned to regularly practise mindfulness to alleviate any feelings of apprehension I was presented with in motherhood.
I began practising mindfulness by giving myself a break and dedicating as little as half an hour a day to doing something self-indulgent to focus the mind away from my day. It was as simple as putting my feet up on the couch and watching a favourite TV show or curling up with a magazine in those precious moments when my son napped. By clearing my head, I got my much-needed timeout to reflect and be present and was able to focus and become completely aware of the realities of the moment.
Sometimes I find it can be very easy to dwell on the “what ifs” or “what has been”, so by refocusing my mind on the “what is now” I was able to remain present and concentrate on my capabilities and build self-confidence.
With time, these timeouts have provided me with a huge sense of empowerment I never thought I could possess but which I now realise was much needed as a motherless mother. These moments of self-reflection have gave me a clearer mind, allowing me to embrace the reality that, although I can’t defer to my own mother for her wisdom and insight, I can work on keeping my mum alive by passing on her traditions while combining them with my own new traditions. I realise now that being a motherless mother has actually forced me to become stronger and wiser by building my own experience and knowledge. I have found the self-confidence to tap into an innate and instinctual ability to know what is best for my son and can reassure myself that my son is happy — and that I may actually know what I am doing!
As a motherless mother, I will never stop missing my mum and wishing my son could have met his amazing grandmother or that she could have shared in the joy of his crazy antics and beauty. Her warmth, humour and affection will always be missed. However, using mindfulness, I have learnt to appreciate the present realities of my life when faced with less-than-ideal life circumstances. I have become a more confident parent and feel more empowered with the insight to see a more enriched version of myself.
Although I cultivated mindfulness as a motherless mother, any mother who is struggling with being a new parent herself can exercise her mind. By allowing ourselves to open our minds to our real emotions, we can delve deeper and learn more about ourselves to find the reassurance that we, as parents, ultimately know what is best for our children.
