Mirror Me | A Mother's Love

Cora's Inner Turmoil

Cora had to go in for emergency dental work, so she left her two kids with Esther. When she returned, her youngest ran up to her, looking tired and as though she'd been crying for a long time. Cora picked her up, holding her close. "Are you okay?" she asked gently. Her daughter nodded, but Cora sensed something was off, though she didn't notice anything right away.

A few moments later, as they all sat down for lunch, Cora caught a glimpse of her youngest in her chair and noticed something startling—half of her child's face was swollen. Both her upper and bottom lip were swollen, and there was an abrasion on her nose. Startled, Cora got up to check her over. "What happened?" she asked, examining her little one further. She then noticed small bruises along her arm, and on her little toe, a nail was half torn off.

"Mom, what happened?" Cora asked, concerned.

Esther walked over, looking surprised. "Oh my goodness, I don't know!"

Cora could see that Esther genuinely seemed unaware. Frustrated, she held her baby closer, guilt washing over her for leaving her.

"You don't know what happened?" Cora repeated, worry laced in her tone.

"No. I mean, they cry all the time," Esther replied dismissively. "I'm not going to run to them every time they cry."

Cora was dumbfounded. This cry would have been different—urgent and distressed, judging by the injuries. It wasn't enough for an emergency room visit, but enough that her baby's face was swollen.

Her adrenaline spiking, Cora quickly called her husband and sent him pictures. He told her to pack up and bring the girls home, saying he'd leave work early to meet them.

Cora hung up, uncertain of how to keep calm while telling her mother she was leaving.

"Is it because the baby got hurt?" Esther asked, looking worried.

"No, I just want to go home." But inside, she was frustrated. Why am I so afraid to say the truth to her?

—

On the drive home, Cora asked her older child what had happened. Although her three-year-old did her best to explain, the story changed slightly from moment to moment. Still, Cora knew her oldest had seen what happened but couldn't fully communicate it. It sounded like an accident, but the fact that Esther ignored her baby's distress infuriated her. How could she not check on the kids when they were crying? Especially if it was a cry of pain.

—

Later that night, Cora tossed and turned, unsure of what to do. She had a prenatal appointment in the morning, and young children weren't allowed. Another sleepless night stretched ahead as she tried to come up with a solution.

—

In the morning, exhausted, she got the kids ready and brought them to Esther's. As Cora dropped them off, Esther squatted to remove their shoes, glancing up with an accusatory look. "Do you even trust leaving them here?" she asked.

Cora scoffed inwardly. "Yes." She told the kids she loved them, gave them each a kiss, and headed off to her appointment, her mind simmering. The audacity, she thought. The audacity of ignoring her injured grandchild and then questioning my trust, as if I shouldn't have the right to doubt my own mother.

—

When Cora returned, she found Esther sitting with the kids, who were playing quietly. They ran up to Cora and hugged her, excited to see her back.

Cora sat on the floor with them, trying to engage. Esther, seated against the couch with her knees to her chest, was quiet.

"I'm so tired lately," Esther began with a slight laugh. "I had a dream last night that woke me up early. I've been having a lot of dreams like this. You and I were sitting just like this, and you told me you were pregnant again."

Cora knew what was coming and steeled her expression to mask her true feelings.

"I sharply said, 'Are you freaking insane!?' Then I woke up." Esther laughed, as though it were a joke. "I've been losing a lot of sleep lately, thinking about you having more kids. Are you really going to have more? I think you should reconsider. It takes a lot of money. Three is enough. You don't need more kids."

Cora's blood boiled; she could feel her skin heating as she clenched her fists, trying to keep calm, staring straight ahead and avoiding eye contact.

"I mean, it's not my life; it's yours. But I'm concerned for my daughter. If you keep having more kids, I won't be able to help you. I just won't help you anymore."

"I never asked for your help, financially," Cora snapped, unable to hold back any longer.

Esther went silent, looking as though she'd been struck.

Wanting to escape the tension, Cora stood up and headed for the bathroom. She decided she wanted to go home and get away from her mother. Esther had been saying since her first pregnancy, "Two is enough, two kids is plenty." But Cora and her husband had always wanted four or five. Both came from small families, and since Esther had cut everyone off, Cora had no family beyond her brother. And though her brother was an amazing sibling, he wasn't the type she could talk to about feelings. She longed for a big family so her kids would have companions growing up.

Cora understood that they were financially strained, but expanding their family was what she and her husband wanted. They'd managed so far, and she trusted her husband to keep them afloat. No matter what, he'd never let them go without a roof over their heads or food on the table. Besides, Cora was the one budgeting and she kept tight reins on unnecessary luxuries.

This was her life. Esther had dictated what she should do and how to live for over thirty years. She'd pressured her into the military and nursing school, even making it clear she'd kick her out unless she went. So, marrying the man she loved and building a family was something Esther had no say in. Cora had spent her life trying to make her mother happy, but she knew now that nothing would satisfy her because she didn't want the same life Esther had chosen.

In her mid-thirties, Cora still didn't fully know who she was. She had no real identity because she'd spent her life living for her mother's expectations. Now, it was time to break away. If Esther wanted her to live independently, then she needed to stay out of her personal choices.

Yes, Esther offered to help with babysitting and sometimes financially, but Cora never asked for it. She knew every offer came at a cost. The fact that Esther could help financially was simply her way of holding control over Cora. Money was the one thing she could dangle as leverage and take away as punishment.

But Cora knew better. She never relied on her mother for money. She wouldn't even ask her mother to hold her purse at the store while she tried on a sweater.

Cora was left feeling exasperated, defeated, and questioning once again why she always ended up feeling like the "bad daughter."