Feeling a little guilty

First, a confession: I don't feel guilty about a lot of things I do or don't do as a mom.  Is that weird?  I honestly feel like I am doing the best that I can.  I'm not saying that I NEVER feel guilty nor am I by any stretch saying that I'm perfect, but I also think that "mom guilt" is a popular and almost socially expected (I said EXPECTED...it's what happens after it's socially ACCEPTED) emotion.  Thanks, Facebook and Pinterest.

All moms should feel guilty that their kids don't eat enough vegetables.
All moms should feel guilty that they use the N-word with their children...NO. 
All moms should feel guilty that they don't play with their children 20 hours per day. 
All moms should feel guilty for not homeschooling their children. 
All moms should be ASHAMED if they don't breastfeed...ashamed, I say...banned to the depths of hell for all eternity. 
All moms should feel guilty if their children aren't well-rounded (read: play two sports year-round, go to sports camps in the summer, take art lessons, volunteer, have daily play dates, make A's...possibly B's since the anointed child's teacher clearly doesn't understand that your child's work cannot be compared to that of others, run for Student Council, and also run 5K's for kids - it's good training for soccer camp).
All moms should feel guilty that their children don't eat hormone-free, free-range chicken or that they bribe them to eat one bite of broccoli in exchange for dessert.
All moms should feel guilty that they (heaven forbid) HAVE A JOB OUTSIDE THE HOME.  That last one gets the best of me sometimes, but then I remember that my paycheck is responsible for our savings and one of our cars.  I'm maintaining my certifications and work experience in the event that I would ever have to be the sole caregiver for our family.
MY BIG QUESTION: Where is your guilt for not taking your child to church on a regular basis AND (I said AND here) teaching him or her about Jesus Christ?  You'll homeschool your child because you don't think anyone else can do it properly, but you'll leave the spiritual stuff to the church, if you even go at all.  And you believe church/God/religion is hooey?  What will you do when the paragraph after next happens to someone in your family?  Suddenly God becomes all too real in the way that He is suddenly to blame for your problems, and you and/or your children won't know what to do, where to turn, how to cope...because you don't understand Him, not even a little bit.

So what's my guilt about recently?  Not taking enough pictures.  HA!  Sounds ridiculous after all those things I just listed.  But it's true - our lives as young mothers somewhat revolve around how well we have documented both milestones and everyday cuteness and hilarity.  What?!  You DIDN'T get a shot of Emma's reaction to her new seesaw?!  Shame on you.  Bad mother.  How will you possibly ever remember that moment?  You will ride the seesaw of shame vs. regret for the rest of your days.

My guilt is not a result of expectations set by others...it's a result of my own insecurity that I won't remember the joy of Emma's experiences as only a picture or a sound can trigger.  As Emma's surgery nears, I have dangerously allowed myself to drift to the what-if's a handful of times.  There's a girl in California right now who went in for a tonsillectomy, and let's just say the worst has happened.  What if something goes horribly wrong?  What if Emma has major complications and won't be able to survive after her surgery?  None of this is routine surgery...so aren't our odds of Emma losing her voice, losing some mobility, or even losing her altogether much, much greater?  And so I go to back to the guilt that I haven't captured her voice on video enough...or that I haven't captured her smile enough...or that funny lower lip poked out when she's concentrating.  Memories are fleeting, but pictures and video last forever.  Even when WE DON'T.

It just occurred to me yesterday or maybe the day before (see?  Don't even remember when I had this awful thought...) that I won't hear her sweet voice for at least 5 days.  And after that, it will be scratchy from a breathing tube...and when she does try to speak, it will be painful and she will cry.

So here I am, allowing the fear to creep in about this hospital stay, leading to remorse...that I had taken more pictures, more videos.  Can I bear to watch videos of her sweet self while she lies in that bed?  This is all self-pity - Emma will know no better for those 5 days of sedation.  And she's the one who really matters.

Here are the few pictures I snagged of Christmas with our doodlebug (who, by the way, calls herself, "The Doodlebug," when we ask her who she is in pictures).

 

I will post an update as soon as possible after Emma's surgery on Friday, January 3.  The surgeries begin at noon, and I have no idea how long they will take.  I don't even have a ballpark here.  2 hours?  Maybe.  7 hours?  Sure.  Until then, I probably won't post again...I'll be busy with my little one trying to cram in all the things I'm "supposed" to be doing as her mom and probably not getting as many pictures and videos as I would like.  But at the end of the day, Emma knows that her daddy and I love her more than she can understand, and we know that God loves all of us more than WE can understand, with or without forced broccoli feedings or organic cotton clothing washed in chemical-free detergent made from naturally-occurring bark, moss, and honey.