On Being Needed

I've always had a terrible sneaking suspicion that my family doesn't really need me. I'm not equipped for motherhood, having grown up as a neglected and abused child. How could I possibly know how to nurture and grow a child when I never experienced that myself?

Lately, that suspicion has been more difficult to ignore. Last month, my son came home from school distraught because another kid had been picking on him. I tried to comfort him, to tell him that he was okay, and I held him and hugged him. Then my husband went in and talked to him later, and at bed time my son told me, "Daddy made me feel better."

Today my daughter came home from summer camp crying because she felt excluded from a group of girls. Again, I hugged her and listened, and told her that it wasn't her fault, and that in a couple of weeks her friends would be at camp and she would have a group to hang out with. Then my husband sat and talked with her for a while, and at dinner time she announced, "Daddy made me feel better."

I'm glad my husband can help our kids work their way through these difficult interpersonal challenges. Lord knows he has more real life experience, having gone to public schools and grown up with a real peer group. But I wish I could do a better job of it. Clearly, I am lacking something, some element of empathy; or I don't quite strike the right tone, or I don't have quite the right words. So I wonder, why am I here? What do I contribute besides making dinner and getting them dressed in the morning and making sure they have sunscreen before they go to the swimming pool?

I told my therapist a couple of weeks ago that on many days my kids are the only thing keeping me from self-destructing. I wake up in the morning and think, I can't kill myself because my kids are still so young, they really need me to care for them. But then I see that in reality, my husband is doing most of the nurturing and loving, so what irreplaceable role do I play in their lives?