Fear and Shame

I’ve been on a huge Brene Brown kick lately and although it’s terrifying to be so forthright on such a public platform, especially one use for professional purposes, my gut is telling my that vulnerability is the only way to heal.

Life has been such a dramatic ebb and flow of joy and pain, ease and effort. I had a really terrible afternoon yesterday and it’s taking me a few days to fully process everything that happened. 

I was giving into my people pleasing-tendencies and trying to accommodate everyone’s desires. “Sure Ruby, we can drive 20-minutes out of the way to pick up a playmate for you!” I said. “Yes Cash, we can invite your buddy to the gym.” “Ok, sure kids, I’ll buy you some candy, you had a long day at school. Please just stop talking so loud and bickering.”

It all backfired and came crashing down in one spectacular shitstorm. 

The kids were fighting over the splitting up of the box of Nerds and it went flying all over my car. Ruby proceeded to cry about it of the entire 20-minute car ride to pick up her friend. We made it to the gym just in time to meet Cash’s friend before his mom had to leave. Things were somewhat under control – as much as possible for four children ages 4-6 running around a gym with multiple play structures. I ordered a pizza to feed them dinner and let them play a little longer until it was time to go. As we were collecting all of the clothing, shoes and socks that had been strewn all over the place, I noticed we were just missing one thing - Ruby!

All of the kids spread out to look for her. When they returned and reported no sight of her, I started to worry a bit. My heart rate accelerated and I began checking other rooms in the club frantically shouting her name while simultaneously trying to keep the other three kids contained to one spot. I finally had to blurt out to the ladies at the front desk “I lost Ruby!” they began to help me look and I had a gut feeling to check my car, because Ruby has a habit of being overly independent. Sure enough, she was sitting in the car, just waiting for us to leave, trying to recover the Nerds that were all over the car floor.

I ran back inside and Cash and his friend were walking further into the gym.  I was shouting his name with his back turned to me as he was walking away. I was so angry that he wasn’t listening to me. I was embarrassed because a group of moms was looking at  me and I realized my loud screams were interrupting their conversation. I ran towards him, grabbed his arm and yelled at him for not listening to me while escorting him and his friend out of the gym to the car. 

I finally had all four kids in the car and buckled up (or so I thought).

We got onto the highway onramp and Cash informed me that Ruby had unbuckled and confessed he wasn’t buckled either. I panicked again and ranted on about how dangerous it is it ride in the car without a buckle on. I held it together long enough to feign a smile and some niceties as I dropped off his friend and excused myself for being late, explaining that Ruby took off. 

When I got back to the car and was en route to our house, I broke down sobbing. I forced my kids to recall the time that they were in a car accident and how they could have died if they weren’t wearing their seatbelts. And that I would have died if I would have lost them because I just love them so much. And then I wept for the baby I did actually lose last week to miscarriage. The feelings of shame for losing track of my daughter in a public place, the fear of actually losing her and the grief of my body failing to support a growing tiny human.

I felt paralyzed. I walked in the door to confused husband because the kids heads were hanging low and I had a swollen, mascara-streaked face. I walked right upstairs to my bedroom for some privacy and continued to weep. I felt totally out of control with my emotions and I didn’t know why. I accepted what I was feeling and I let it go for a good hour. I listened to a guided meditation that helped my realized where the anxiety was taking a hold of me and paid attention to the sensations in different parts of my body. I am coping and processing how I know how – accepting, recognizing and feeling the feelings. Letting myself cry and grieve, no matter how inconveniently it pops up.

Regaining control  of my physical space, spring cleaning, purging, restoring order – another way I like to cope. Yes, Ruby was late to school because I was taking out my feelings on the vacuum at the carwash sucking up those pesky nerds all over my car. Oh well, it’s just preschool. I’m giving myself some grace.