By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
“Aunt Kath….” My four-year-old nephew looked up at me with his big brown eyes, my sister’s eyes.
“Yes, love.”
“You know what I’m doing right now?”
“Nope. Tell me.”
“I’m pretending you’re my mommy.”
My heart swelled to three times its size before I felt like it was then ripped out of my chest. Choking back a sob, I said, “That’s so sweet. Thank you. Tell me….” But before I could ask him about this imaginary family of his, where he got the idea, what kind of mommy I was (funny, strict, a lot like his real mommy), he had moved on to a new topic, something to do with a game he likes to play at his preschool. Hours later, alone with my thoughts, I revisited this exchange and struggled to come to terms with what it did to me.
I’m not new to this conversation. This sweet boy is the youngest of six nieces and nephews, and each has gone through this phase of wanting to pretend I’m their mommy. Out to lunch or shopping with a niece (“Let’s pretend you’re my mom.”), playing in the park with a nephew (“Maybe they think you’re my mom.”). They’re all great kids, so I’m flattered and touched by their game. And they’re all great kids, so it also slays me emotionally. I would have loved being their mom.
I expected to grieve my losses, feel left out, and wrestle with difficult choices in the coming-to-terms-with-being-childfree dance. I just didn’t think that the same moments that fill my soul with unanticipated joy could also send me into new cycles of depression. Brutal, right?
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.
yup brutal. I had something like this happen to me. I am friend’s with a guy I have known for over 20 years. He is married almost that long and they have a young daughter. We go out to dinner with our spouses, and his daughter always wants to sit next to me, she always looks forward to seeing me. Once, I went out with her and her mom. She asked her mom and I how long we knew each other and her dad. When she realized we all met and knew each other about the same length of time, she said to me, “if you had married my dad, you would be my mom.” I never dated her dad and when she said that her mom and I looked at each other a little shocked. But it really touched my heart that she thought I could be her mom. I almost cried over how sweet that moment was.
This post sent me crying! Oh, my, those words really packed a punch. Boy, oh boy…so bittersweet. (((HUGS)))
Yup, joy and pain in equal measure! It is complicated, this particular kind of grief. I am going through exactly this with children of someone I know who I have grown close to. The pain that comes with being close to them is almost unbearable……. and yet there is nothing like the joy of seeing their little faces, hearing them giggle, and experiencing their hugs. Ugh.
A few months ago I was spending time with my partner’s 4 year old son. He was helping me clean up and explained that when he grows up his kids are going to learn to help him clean. I asked what if he doesn’t have kids. (Yes, I’ve become bitter and can’t help putting out there that kids are not an inevitability.) He looked kind of confused, so I clarified that I after all don’t have kids. He looked at me very seriously and said, “Yes you do. You have us.” I almost cried right there and then.
When my nephew was just a baby and his parents traveled for work, we would keep him for long stretches at a time. When his mother came to get him, he would cry and cry because he didn’t want to leave me. We saw him stand up on his own for the first time, I took him to see Santa for his first time, and many for many times he called me mom. It would make my heart swell, but also mad me very depressed because I knew it wouldn’t last. Many, many days I wish I could relive those days because they were some of the best years I have to very had. He is now 16 and of course isn’t that interested in us, but I hope he doesn’t stray too far from us.
I got the “I can’t wait until you and Uncle “A” have a baby.” from my almost 6 year old niece today. I told her that we can’t have a baby. Then she said well you can adopt like Aunt “L” and Uncle “J” did when they couldn’t have a baby. I told her that we can’t do that either. She looked confused but then said I’ll be you little girl until mommy comes home on Friday. I told her I would like that.
I’ve never had this exact situation, but what I have always gotten is being told I would make such a good mother. That comment burns me to the core. I hate it when people say that. And oddly over the years when talking to strangers or meeting new people, a commen question I get is… “Are you a teacher? I can’t figure out why? I’m to the point I can’t stand being around kids because my heart is so jaded. And the other comment I get is “Good thing you never had kids…” Like when I told a friend that I don’t like pain…. Really??? What the hell kind of comment is that!!!! And the ultimate comment I hate is “Be glad you never had kids because….” Like when my girl friend was planing her daughter wedding the cost kept rising. I wanted to ask her “would you give up everything you’ve had with her just to save a buck right now???” Ugh!!!! People are such idiots some times!!!!!! Ow… Guess I needed to vent this morning…. Love this page!!
This summer I was on vacation with my sister, her husband and their two year old son. My nephew would only wear sandals with socks on because his skin had been pinched a couple of times when my sister had put them on him. I convinced him to let me try and the sandals went on without a problem. He climbed into the car saying, ” you should be the mommy.” I pretended I heard him say something about mommy coming and he said, “No… You should be the mommy,” a second time. I thought I would start crying right then…how I wish I was his mommy.