Mother's Day Eve

Wow! What a week this has been! Just crazy. In the previous post I mentioned some reasons people experience Mother's Day weirdness. In addition women who have had a child die, who are unable to bear children, who have had an abortion or miscarried may find Mother's Day most difficult. An adoptive mother of two children wept because she never will experience the excitement of "expecting". A few weeks ago the new baby that this mother was set to adopt was born prematurely and sadly died several days later. Mother's Day will be hard for her. And it is difficult too for adoptees and foster kids.

Despite the intensity, it was a good productive week and I was satisfied at the end of it. Hubster and son took me out to dinner tonight. The restaurants will be so crowded tomorrow so it seemed like a good idea to enjoy my meal of honor tonight especially since I didn't leave work until after seven. The place I like to go is a restaurant at a nearby state park which overlooks a small lake. The food is variable but it is such a relaxing setting. It was not crowed tonight. The food and service were fine and the company unbeatable. I am one richly blessed woman.

My current read is The Boy Who Was Raised As A Dog by child psychiatrist Bruce D. Perry. Dr. Perry is not an analyst but his supervisors in child psychiatry at the University of Chicago were and their influence on his work is evident. The first story and his approach reminded me of the little girl I treated a number of years ago. This child saw the man she knew as dad, murder her mother and then kill himself. Perry's little girl saw her mom murdered and was nearly slain herself by her mother's killer. Both little girls waited by their mother's lifeless bodies until someone chanced to come by. Like me, Perry played the role of the dead mother over and over and over again. I was killed dozens of times and lay still on the floor as long as my patient directed. Each of us allowed the children to lead the play. They seemed to know what needed to be done and our job was to help them do the work. Both of our tiny patients were 4 years old. In the chapter I am reading now he is describing his emergency treatment of the Branch Davidian children who survived the Waco tragedy. It is one chilling story. So many more people with reason to be sad this time of year.