At a Glance
One day, long ago, my older daughter asked me if I was glad that I had children (the topic of my book confusing her a bit). "Of course!" I responded as fast as I could. “I can’t imagine life without you!” And I can’t. My children saturate my life with laughter, joy, and pride. They are the best part of my life. They are the best thing I ever did with my life. But there is a "however," and it comes in right about now.
However, I am more than Mommy, and I need more than being a mommy in order to satisfy the many aspects of me. Early on, I think I made a big mistake by anticipating “the hardest job in the world” (a la Oprah) by only visualizing the physical demands of childcare, and not how motherhood would affect me emotionally, psychologically, mentally, socially, spiritually, sexually, and financially. In my worst moments, I was seriously affected and suffered terribly. I was having what I referred to as DBBs (daily breakdown breaks). I lost interest in sex, hobbies, and my friendships. My self-esteem plummeted, and I became paralyzed by my “condition.” I actually considered packing my bags and running away from home, but I never left. How could I? I adored my children. None of this made sense!
Instead, I began to talk about my feelings and was shocked by the number of mothers who felt the same way. All of us loved our children. All of us loved being a parent, but all of us stirred with a restlessness, a calling to remember that we were individuals on our own path, with interests and hobbies, preferences and ideals, daydreams and plans we hoped to fulfill despite the fact that we had, indeed, become mothers. Intrigued by this “phenomenon,” I conducted interviews and took notes on what mothers were saying; I recorded their symptoms and private thoughts as if there might be a common denominator among us. I spent three years writing about the results of my research, research that exposes something I think society would rather deny. And that is, grief finds its way to mothers when they lose touch with valuable aspects of their former lives and selves. Grief exists and generates real symptoms when mothers lose their sense of self in the craziness and all-consuming journey of motherhood. With this finding, I recognized the need for a book like Missing In Action in the public domain, and my mission began to inform and educate mothers, their families, and the health care professionals who provide services to them.
I hope to enlighten those who read Missing In Action and empower the mothers who feel overwhelmed. However, this book is not a substitute for professional medical advice, as conditions such as clinical depression go well beyond the scope of MIA. Should persistent thoughts of “running away” or great emotional pain exist, I urge mothers to seek the help available through their private physicians.

