How One Single Parent Views Change

Written by Adoptive Parents, Adoptees and Professionals in the Fields of
Medicine, International Adoption and Child Development.

The Sculptor of Life:
How One Single Parent Views Change
by Caroline F. Daniel

From dossier to placement, guestroom to nursery, wine to formula, our lives are intentionally transformed by the decision to become parents: married or single, adoptive or otherwise. The external changes are all too obvious, but what my friend Debbie Carr wants to know is, "...how single mother/fatherhood by choice changes us as people, not all the logistical stuff, but how it changes us as women/men." When she originally wrote this question, there was no way I was going to give her an honest answer. That sunny Monday morning, sitting at the kitchen table, crying through my angst and guilt, I felt mostly relief because my very young daughters had been taken to childcare for the week: days as well as nights. Unable to care for them at that point, I was grouchy, distracted, and miserable to be around, and it broke my heart to admit that I needed help. I was a failure; it was the lowest ebb of my parenting experience. To be fair though, I was in excruciating physical pain that would take several more months to dissipate. I couldn't even bend over to pick up my youngest child. And as difficult as it was at that point, I began to discover, to accept or to alter the changes that had transpired in my life as a woman, a human being. One of the many gifts of parenthood is introspection; we see where we were, and we see where we've come. At this moment in time, fortunately, life is sweet again. I'm pain free, our home is running smoothly, my children are happy and well loved, and so am I. So Debbie, here is my answer to your question, intentionally honest and forthright, and hopefully helpful to you as you prepare your own life for single motherhood.

P - atience. In some ways, I have more patience than ever before. When alone, I'm more willing to wait in lines and to allow moms with kids or elderly folks to go ahead of me. I even let people merge into my lane. Yet there are moments I have no patience whatsoever. I don't have patience for those who are challenged by common courtesy. There is never, ever enough time, and when there is too much to do, my fuse burns more quickly, even with my own children. It is not a pretty picture, and I feel ashamed of myself. As a single parent, there is this difference; there is no one else to take the pressure off, and this "pressure cooker" has been known to blow her top.

It's not all bad news though. I find that as my girls get older and more independent I can be very patient and that I appreciate that patience even more. I've discovered ways to help my composure remain intact by directing our activities in ways that do not feel irritating. For us that means instead of a tea party, we play Candy Land. Parenting has definitely drawn my feelings to the surface in new and amazing ways.

E - motions. More quick to anger, as well as to love, I am enabled by my children to feel all emotions more deeply and profoundly. Anger is more intense, but it doesn't last long. Love is more complex, but it endures. I've also had to face my own adoption issues because they no longer effect just me. One such issue is permanence. I have moved sixteen times in the past twenty years. So when that itch "to go" reared its ugly head recently, and my children needed to stay put for their own sense of stability, I had to deal with the issue in a more productive, less disruptive, manner: a personal retreat. My brother says that I wear my emotions. Probably so. But I'm glad because they spur me into advocating for the things that matter. My temperament has changed profoundly.

A - ttitude. I am now less inhibited and will ask for what I need. I am fiercely protective, private, and defensive of my children and my ability to parent them. In other words, I no longer take personal constructive criticism as well as I did before I was a mother. An interesting positive change is that I no longer have the luxury, or curse, of being so modest or self-conscious. Once very private about my body, I no longer am bothered when someone else is beside me in the bathroom, shower, or bedroom closet.

My house is prone to mess, but I care less, and yet every straw we put into the trash causes me worry about the environment. Like most parents, I am more aware of crimes against children, about discrimination and prejudice, about television and violence, but as a single mom, I take more seriously my double responsibility of protecting my children from these seedier elements of our culture. When taking care of just myself I could afford risk and uncertainty. My attitude changed when I became accountable to two little ones. I suppose I am more mature; I would like to think so… …________________________________________________________________________________________

The complete article is featured in the December / January 2000 issue of the Chosen Child International Adoption Magazine
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