The Unwavering Strength of A Mother's Love
A New Modern Memoir by Anya Sophia Mann
Greetings Everyone!
Today’s post is an excerpt from “The Brave, Courageous, Bold Love of A Mother” a chapter written by Anya for the book “Unwavering Strength, Volume 2” edited by Judy O’Beirn. As usual it is written in the new modern memoir style. Read it slowly, and immerse yourself in the experience.
Notice that the new modern memoir style doesn’t minimize or gloss over feelings. The reality of the situation is honored and acknowledged, yet the overall emphasis is on the outcome - the wisdom that came as a result of this experience…
The Unwavering Strength of A Mother’s Love
“Dear Almighty God,” I prayed and cursed as I drove, “how do I care for my son, whom the medical profession has deemed a failure-to-thrive?” What does that even mean? Other than the obvious weight loss? What do I do? With no prescription in hand, I must be the cure. At least I am determined to be now, given the circumstances.
After many nights like this, once again lifting him and patting his back to calmly yet urgently wake my baby, whose lips were blue again from not breathing, I finally caved in to the crushing not-knowing. Not knowing how to do this mounting, escalating "thing" for a now even sicker child. After a sleepless night, and with that realization, I drove to the Children’s Hospital and, deflated, handed my child over, devoid of all hope.
Thank God my pediatrician wrote a prescription for the United Way to provide a home health aid to support me and my fourteen-month old daughter while her baby brother was re-hospitalized. Yet again, stealing her mommy while her daddy continued his out-of-town business travel as the sole breadwinner.
With a tube about to be inserted into the main aortic artery of my baby’s heart the next morning, the pediatrician from Australia, at midnight calmly responds to my pleading, persistent calls for help in his medical specialty. “Dr. Mom, what do you feel in your heart of hearts that your son needs? Whatever you say, for twenty-four hours, we will provide that in good faith. And there will be more of the same if that goes well.” Can you even imagine my feelings? Does God get closer to talking to a human being than on that phone call?
In absolute recognition of my God-given role as mother, I pray for divine guidance to instinctively, intuitively speak through me. Next day in-person, like a verbal prescription from my soul, I assuredly state to the doctor: “Stop everything. All treatment. Let his body calm and relax, so we can watch for signs that it can respond, heal and absorb nourishment.” To not reject it as if his soul has decided to leave this world so soon upon arrival. Let’s see if our collective hope will show us a sign that his body knows what do to, with a little help and nurturing. We must create a space for life to work through him in our desperate attempts to “save him.”
My son has lost his innate ability to suck. His reflexes are shutting down as a protection from the prescribed formula he is ingesting that is tearing up and ulcerating his digestive tract. The turkey baster I had been using to feed him at home and in the hospital is no longer an option.
Sick takes on new meaning. My infant son is now gravely ill. I feel desperately sicker in heart and soul. My physical symptoms of fear and helplessness are managed by disguising them. The others are not. Depletion of spirit is starving me of resources to cope. Food is unappealing. God no longer feels like an option. With all resources depleted, my only way forward is to do nothing and allow what is going to happen to happen.
My baby is now left to his own physical and spiritual resources. He must show signs within twenty-four hours, or I am no longer a viable alternative as the appointed "Dr. Mom." I pray for his well-being and eventual discharge to my natural mothering, as a healthy thriving child.
At six months old, like a precious reward, my baby finally comes home. Weighing a whopping ten pounds, a recent graduate of "failure to thrive" and hospital-free, he is now a force to be reckoned with. Nothing in life so far had taught me how to be this knowledgeable, courageously confident person called Mom. An unwavering strength, unlike anything I had previously known or called upon, was required in volume every day. One child at home healthy and without me for so long. Another child, sick and failing to thrive, with me constantly there in the hospital. Life was feeling very paradoxical as I floundered in the understanding while flourishing in the miracle of it all.
I now know for sure that underneath it all, in the depths of the worst that life can present, there is an enduring, unwavering strength that I feel very comfortable calling my God self, that will, did, and does, prevail. I wonder if that is why some of us go through what some of us do, to come to know who we really are in the all of it. Maybe this is why we are here doing what we do. Being who life calls us up to be, so that we can know ourselves for the first time. And to know that is to know God. A constant, compassionate love is there whispering loudly, screaming quietly, as an unwavering strength walking us all home to ourselves and who we really are.
I can say from the bottom of my heart that we are guided in every moment, of every day, through all our experiences, and we may never know why or exactly how. I look into the eyes of my children and grandchildren and think that I might be close to the answer, and that is… Life just is! It is a mystery. It is magical. There are miracles. And who knows? It really, really just is!
Anya Sophia Mann
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Your writing touches my heart and soul. Jan B
What a beautifully moving testimony to the power of a mother's intuition. Thank you.