A mother’s love

Love

My daughter told me she loved me today.

Our lives changed forever when she came into this world. She had kept her presence secret for nine long months. After her twin brother was born, I was told to prepare myself for a shock.
Her life began as it’s continued, causing a scene, making her presence felt, being the centre of attention.
I’ve often wondered if she thought because we weren’t expecting her, we didn’t want her. Was she making up for those months when she didn’t make herself known? Was she too much of a surprise? She’s heard the story of her birth and how stunned we were.

With no family support, I found caring for twins and a toddler difficult and isolating; we had been in our adopted country for under a year.

There was always something about this child, she seemed so sad, so different from her laid-back twin brother and her confident older sister. Unsettled, unhappy, always wanting more. More of everything, more of me.

Doctors told us she was normal, there was nothing wrong with her, just an unsettled baby. Then they diagnosed separation anxiety when she refused to go to school, or to camp, in fact she hated leaving home. There were numerous imaginary illnesses, nightmares and fears of everything. Life just seemed too hard.


At last she became more confident as she grew older, but it was simply bravado, involving hanging around the wrong crowd, getting into trouble and a teenage pregnancy.

I stood by her, supporting her, encouraging her, loving her throughout.

A mother’s love is endless, all-encompassing, sometimes to the detriment of others who also need her love and attention. The child who makes the most noise gets all the attention. Our other children have since told me they often felt overlooked. In retrospect, was this little surprise package the cuckoo in the nest, kicking out the others, wanting and needing to be the only chick?

There were so many dramas involving this daughter as she lurched from disaster to disaster, always making the wrong choices. Throughout the years she’s always needed me, her mother, to try to make things right.

Diagnosed with depression and extreme anxiety, she self medicated to relieve her pain. Her twenty- five-year marriage inevitably broke down, her long-suffering husband unable to put up with her erratic behaviours any longer. Even her own children have, unhappily, grown apart from her.

I feel so sad and guilty too. Did she crave something from me I was unable to give?

She is alone now, except for her father and me. We still support her even though we feel she’s intent on a path of self-destruction. We’re scared she’ll die before us.

In and out of rehab and mental hospitals, nothing seems to be able to stabilise her for long. It’s the same old story. I’ve told her we can’t keep doing this, we’re too old now. I hardened my heart, and then…

My daughter told me she loved me today.

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