Mirror Me | A Mother's Love

Cora's Trauma

It's two in the morning, and Cora wakes to the feeling of a small pop and warm fluid leaking. Realizing her water has broken, she wakes her husband, and they begin to prepare for the hospital. His mother is asleep on the couch; they try to be quiet as they leave, but she wakes up, worried and excited.

At the hospital, Cora learns she's only two centimeters dilated. It's disheartening because she's been dealing with prodromal labor for over a week and a half, and she'd hoped to be further along. With her first baby, everything had gone as expected; with her second, she also had prodromal labor but was already at four centimeters when she arrived at the hospital. This time felt entirely different. They say the third is a wild card, but just how wild would this one be?

Since Cora had unmedicated births with her first two, she planned to do the same. However, after twenty hours of excruciating labor and stalling at six centimeters for half of that time, the doctor decided on an emergency cesarean section.

Her husband did his best to reassure her, telling her everything would be okay and not to worry, but she could see the concern in his eyes—worry for his wife about to be cut open and for their baby in distress.

Cora was devastated, nervous, and terrified. Once the decision was made, everything moved quickly. She was on the operating table in no time, shaking in fear as they prepared to begin. She hadn't had a moment to process the thought of major abdominal surgery. Exhausted after laboring for so long without medication, she drifted off after they delivered the baby. When her husband brought over their newborn, she was relieved to see their little one was healthy. Ten fingers, ten toes, and a strong set of lungs. Everything was perfect.

After two and a half days in the hospital, Cora returned home with her newborn. Her older children were ecstatic about their new baby sister and couldn't stop gushing over her.

While her husband and his mother went to the store for dinner ingredients, they took the older kids along so Cora could have a little rest.

Esther was there, helping clean up and welcoming the new baby home. As she finished collecting the trash, she headed out the front door.

"Thank you," Cora said gratefully. Her mother had visited the hospital daily with the kids and brought food, and she was keeping the house clean and tidy. Cora was genuinely appreciative.

"Thank you for what?" Esther replied with an attitude that caught Cora off guard.

Unsure how to respond, Cora just watched as Esther prepared to leave. Esther stopped in the doorway and turned to face her. "You know, I'm sorry if I've been butting into your life about having more kids," she began, her face somber as tears filled her eyes. "Of course, if you need help, I'll be here, but I won't interfere in your life anymore."

Cora felt the weight of her mother's words—a familiar manipulation intended to stir guilt.

"If you never asked for my help," Esther continued, "then that means I did all of this myself? You really hurt me when you said you never asked for my help." And with that, she turned and left.

Cora stood there, stunned, feeling confused and unsettled. Is this what gaslighting is? She felt gross, violated, and flooded with the same guilt Esther had made her feel her entire life. Since she was a child, her mother had always taken control, and if things didn't go her way, it was somehow always Cora's fault.

When her husband returned, Cora broke down in tears. She was only a few days postpartum, still recovering from surgery, and feeling emotionally raw. She told her husband what had happened, and he immediately wanted to go to Esther's house and confront her.

"Why does she do this? Why pick now to start drama? Everything always has to be about her!" Cora cried.

Her husband hugged her and assured her he'd handle it. Although his mother advised against it, he left anyway.

When he returned, he told Cora that Esther was truly hurt and, even though Cora hadn't done anything wrong, she should apologize to smooth things over. Cora scoffed—why should she apologize when Esther was the one creating all this drama and casting herself as the victim?

Reluctantly, Cora texted her mother, knowing she wouldn't be able to sound genuine if she apologized in person.

"I'm sorry if what I said hurt you. That wasn't my intention. I don't want to dwell on this any longer. Let's just move on."

There was no response, but Cora didn't care anymore. She was exhausted from being controlled, manipulated, and gaslit. This pattern had been a constant her whole life, and she was done with it.

And yet, deep inside, Cora still felt like a failure, like a bad daughter. No matter what she did, she couldn't seem to make her mother happy.