“There was a lot of pain, not suffering, since suffering is a choice”

Another Kind of Superhero [Inbox / Issue 903]

I’d like to thank you for publishing the account of Shifra Wagner’s heroic struggle to raise her medically fragile child at home, and the subsequent letter from the mother whose medically fragile child lives in a skilled nursing facility, highlighting that there is more than one shade to this heroism, as she eloquently pointed out. As a fellow mom in the trenches, whose medically fragile child does live at home, I was happy to see a discussion of my reality on these pages, but wanted to add another layer of nuance.

After reading the original article, I took my “emotional pulse,” trying to figure out why I was left with a niggling feeling of unease. It didn’t take long to figure it out; it was the glaring difference between the way Shifra lovingly talks about her son, and the more dispassionate way I relate to my child.

I called up a friend, another superhero mom, and asked her if she thought there were no other mothers like me. When she reassured me there certainly are, I ruefully remarked that I guess those aren’t the ones profiled in articles.

So to any other mothers like me out there, keeping children alive in your home but finding that the natural maternal love you may feel for your other kids is blocked when it comes to the one you need to suction and tube-feed and provide airway clearance for, here’s what I wish someone would tell me: That you’re a heroine for doing what you’re doing, that the amount of emotional stress you deal with every single day would have long crushed a lesser woman, and that while your survival mechanism may take the form of a giant step back, and a dispassionate, cool relationship with the child you call your own, there’s no greater statement of love than the fact that you actively partner with Hashem in keeping your child alive to accomplish his or her silent mission in This World.

Wishing all mothers the strength they need to do what they are tasked to do.

Name Withheld

That’s Not Real Emunah [Lifetakes / Issue 902]

I read “The 41st Day,” by a woman still waiting for a yeshuah after doing many rounds of 40-day segulos, with tears in my eyes and empathy in my heart. I, too, have done Nishmas, Tehillim, shemiras halashon, and more, for many 40-day cycles. Saying Nishmas is beautiful, saying Tehillim is comforting, but they’re not a guarantee that you’ll get engaged, married, or even have a date before, during, or after the cycle.

There are a number of new segulos trending, some of which seem so twisted that it’s scary. Recently, I heard a lot of girls talk about deciding on a date for their wedding. The theory is that if you decide on a day for your wedding, Hashem will make it be that day. I struggle with this concept. Emunah isn’t telling Hashem what to do; emunah is (as Tziporah wrote so eloquently), “On the 41st day you learn that you live in a big world with a Great G-d.”

Segulos are just that. Segulos. They’re nice, they’re heartwarming, but they’re not a vending machine where we can tell Hashem, “I did 40 days of Nishmas, now get me engaged.” Hashem doesn’t work that way, and segulos give a false illusion that we can control our reality. I do believe in the power of the tzibbur, in the strength of tefillos said by a group, and in consistently following through with something, but it’s not a guarantee that you will find a shidduch or see the results of your tefillos at this moment. Every tefillah goes up to Hashem and is stored away, even if we don’t see the desired results.

The pain of dating for years, again and again, is real. The looks that we get from others, the painful experiences, the frustration, anger, fear. We’ve done nothing wrong. We’re not being too picky; we don’t have problems. We’re single because Hashem wants us to be single right now, and that’s it. Instead of giving us fearful, pitying looks, understand that Hashem has a plan for every person, and  His plan for us right now is to be single. Every person has a journey they must take before finding their bashert, and some have a longer path than others. Let’s see the power of the 41st day, and realize that Hashem is the One Who’s running the show.

A Fellow Single

Live the Best Life You Can [Once Upon a Time / Issue 902]

I read your raw pain about your daughter’s spiritual decline, and I was transported back to my own gut-wrenching journey. Thank you for expressing, in words, what no mother should ever know about or experience. Here are some of the lessons I’ve learned from my nisayon:

I learned to work through my feelings as they came up, not to push them away. No one ever died from emotions, although in the beginning I felt like I would. I learned to tell myself every morning, I can handle pain, shame, anger, hurt, disappointment, judgment, sadness, horror, and fear. By telling myself that I could, it eventually became my truth, and I was able to.

I also told myself, I allow everyone to judge me. I allow everyone to disapprove, to know better than I, or to criticize my actions (to themselves, hopefully). By allowing that, I released my resistance to the unrealistic, since what you resist, persists. I ended up getting less of these coming my way.

There was a lot of pain, not suffering, since suffering is a choice. I’m not a victim of my life, but life did bring me pain, which I could handle, with Hashem's help. When I was in a lot of pain, I chose to bless the people nearest and dearest to me, and I’ve seen many of my brachos be mekayem, baruch Hashem.

I also surrounded myself with the right support, joining groups and going to shabbatons. This nisayon is in no way a secret. It’s very much out on the street. I might as well get the help to allow me to live a good, serene life while surrounded by this nightmare. I learned to love my child unconditionally, which is a G-dly trait, and so, so hard. We mothers actually mimic Hashem daily with the fourth middah of His yud-gimmel middos harachamim. I read in the Tomer Devorah that Hashem continues to love and give us good despite our sins and wrongdoings. When we act in this G-dly way, we awaken Hashem’s attribute of mercy expressed by the fourth middah, bringing that element of mercy into the world. Wow.

I’ve learned to be grateful for anything I see that gives me hope. I focus on it because what you focus on, expands. I wanted more of it so I searched to see things and actions that showed me that she was frum, erlich, and gave me hope. If she wore pants and short sleeves to the Shabbos seudah, but she washed her hands before she ate challah, I focused on that.

I learned that everyone who gets affected by this challenge is meant to. My journey is being the mother of a struggling daughter and my children are each meant to have a struggling sibling as part of their life’s journey. No guilt there.

And I’ve learned that when Hashem wills it, He’ll make it better and send healing. And He did. She’s married, k’halachah, and doing so well, baruch Hashem. By the grace of G-d, my story has a wonderful ending. It’s not perfect, but I am so grateful. And I want more, so I continue my inner work.

Anonymous

It’s So Rewarding [Healing Hands, Caring Hearts / Issue 902]

As an RN in a hospital, I was excited to see an article about my profession. Nursing is a noble profession, and I felt the article didn’t do it justice. It provided a rather one-sided view and focused on the unsavory environment in the hospital and other challenges facing frum female nurses. I would have loved to hear more about how rewarding it is to be in a helping profession. It’s particularly gratifying to be able to be there for both frum and non-frum Jewish patients in their most vulnerable moments. Just last week, an Israeli patient sans yarmulke was admitted to our floor, and as soon as he saw me, a visibly Jewish-looking nurse, he exclaimed, “Hi shelanu, she’s one of ours.” I was so grateful to be there for him and his family.

An RN in NJ

Raising Awareness Helps [Inbox / Issue 902]

I’m writing in response to Rena Klugmann’s letter criticizing the decision to publish the sorrowful scene of a stillborn baby that Dr. Ayala Rubin experienced in the ER. I can’t disagree more with Rena’s opinion. The purpose of these articles is to create awareness among the readers. There are many women who don’t read magazines because they don’t wish to be exposed to the many troubles we experience in our generation, and I respect that decision that each person can make for themselves.

As a woman who experienced the birth of a stillborn baby, I’ve been following the recent articles and letters with interest. After I read the story, I felt that the focus of the article portrayed only a small piece of what grieving mothers go through. The main struggle for this character was the social aspect of meeting people who either did or didn’t know what she went through and either acknowledged or didn’t acknowledge her pain. While the social piece is extremely difficult, it doesn’t even touch the tip of the iceberg of what the grief of a stillborn baby entails.

There’s much awareness needed in this area, as many women can attest to the very lonely loss they go through. What people don’t always realize is that these parents have buried a child and need to be treated with the same sensitivity you would show any parent who lost a child. While it’s expected for anyone who lost a child to “not be themselves” for quite some time, the expectation is different for parents of a stillborn. Most women have the opportunity to hold and cuddle their newborn before saying the ultimate goodbye to their child forever. The experience is indescribable, the pain is deep and excruciating. There is mourning and grief without the levayah, shivah, and the support that comes along with that. There are no rules to grief. Each person experiences it their own way, and this is something that will never go away even after having more children.

Be aware the subsequent pregnancies will be filled with anxiety, trauma, and extreme emotion. Additional babies provide comfort, but can’t take the place of the child that was buried. This was a child the mother has borne and will always have a piece of her heart.

To my fellow sisters who have gone through this experience: You’re not alone. Hashem knows our pain and has entrusted us to do a special shlichus for these neshamos. Im yirtzeh Hashem soon we should all be able to hug our children with the coming of Mashiach.

Anonymous

Judged and Labeled [Manipulated / Issue 902]

In the first-person account by a woman who believed she was being manipulated by a neighbor, I personally didn’t think that Chaya was acting in a “manipulating” way, definitely not at all times that a red flag was pointed out.

But more importantly, whether or not Chaya was behaving in a selfish way, that’s not the point. We’re not here to judge others, but to work on ourselves to be better, kinder human beings. Yes, that might not mean always saying yes to requests. The point of the story could have been a lot more growth oriented, focusing on the subject learning to say no and putting boundaries in place. Instead, I found there was a huge emphasis on judging and labeling.

Most shocking of all was that the only solution that was found was blocking her number. How did she get there so fast? What about that poor little girl? What was she supposed to think when her friend stopped answering her calls from one day to the next? And since when do we give to others only on our terms of “reciprocity”? Where does that fit in with our Torah values? How about: Chaya was too overwhelmed and vulnerable to form friendships just yet?

Obviously, we need to know how far we can go with doing for others, and our families must come first, but that can mean putting down boundaries for ourselves in a kind, compassionate, and communicative way.

Rivky L.

It Finally Made Sense [Manipulated / Issue 902]

Thank you so much for your article, “Manipulated.” I’m a real people-pleaser and have a “Chaya” in my life. When I read the article, suddenly things finally made sense. My neighbor is manipulative in every sense of the word. Everything is always on her terms, the way she likes it, with absolutely no consideration of me. My problem is that because we live so close to each other, it’s impossible to avoid contact. If I even say one no to her, she’ll ignore me for extended periods of time (or until she needs some other last-minute arrangements from me). I enjoyed the article, and it definitely explained a lot and validated my feelings. But it lacked a solution, and leaves me wondering how I can take this further.

Name Withheld

Tips for Finding a Coach [Hit or Miss / Issue 901]

With so many frum women venturing out into their own businesses, I was glad to see an article addressing the pros and cons of business coaching. As both a business coach/consultant myself and someone who has invested heavily in business coaches at all imaginable price points over the years, I recommend that anyone who is looking to engage a coach take a bit of time to gain clarity on what you want to accomplish, what you need to get there, and what kind of service a specific coach is offering.

Many people throw money away on coaches who focus too heavily on mindset without solid strategy or on a one-size-fits-all approach that can’t work for every business type. Or on coaches that, for example, might have certain expectations of time commitments that aren’t realistic. For example, a high-performance male coach who isn’t Jewish may not understand what it means to be a frum mother balancing 100 things, only one of which is a business. Conversely, you can benefit tremendously from coaches and mentors who have the appropriate skill set and tools needed for any given project.

There is a lot of hype about finding a coach who you click with; however, that chemistry need not be the only barometer measuring the results a coach can get you. Many people benefit from coaches who aren’t necessarily “their type” but have very specific expertise. On the flip side, I’ve seen people sign up with coaches they felt “really got me,” but the relationship was more of a friend than a results-driven coaching experience. Ideally, a coach you click with and who has tremendous expertise is fantastic.

Tsippi

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 904)