Digging through the closet in a panicked state, I can’t find my uniform, my boots, my boonie cap, or my rifle. I know the bus is leaving; I’m supposed to be on it. I’m deploying to Iraq again.
I race out of the room and down the empty staircase. As I stare out the door at a long line of soldiers, I know I will have to come up with a good excuse for being out of uniform. Suddenly, I’m sobbing. I see my four-month-old baby, Violet, and think “she is not going to know me when I get back.” I think of Ruby, almost two, I fear she will forget me too. I don’t want to go. I can’t go. Suddenly, I wake up. Still feeling panicked, it takes me a minute to realize that it was all a dream. My daughters are sleeping peacefully next to me.
I recently read the stories and watched videos from The Times’ Woman at Arms series. In one video, titled “Mother and Medic,” Jaymie Holschlag tells her story of transitioning from soldier back to mother and preparing to deploy again. The opening line of the video was enough for me to know that as a mother, I would not be willing to deploy again. In reference to her return home and relationship with her children she says “I didn’t know them anymore, I loved them but I couldn’t love them.” In the video she also mentions that there are “hundreds of woman who wouldn’t understand where I was or why I would do that.”
I believe her statement is correct, most women probably wouldn’t understand why a mother would leave her child to go to war. This could be why “most women” don’t join the military. As a soldier, I know what it is like to pack up and deploy, but as a mother I can’t imagine the pain of the separation.
In retrospect, I think deploying as a single soldier was likely easier than it would be for a soldier leaving behind a family. I didn’t know what it was like to love and miss a child, to long for a husband, or to feel responsible for a family. I couldn’t even relate to the worry that my parents felt. Every phone call to my mom prior to and during the deployment ended with “Oh Mom, stop worrying, I’ll be fine.” Now that I have my own children, I understand that as a parent it is natural to worry. A parent wants to protect and comfort their child when in need. The distance and danger removes all control that a parent has, and leaves them the helpless child. I have gained a respect and understanding for the emotional detachment parents must go through as their children go off to war.
During my 11 month deployment three of my friends became first-time fathers. Without thinking of the emotional strain they were feeling by being away for the entire birth experience, I hastily said “congratulations,” and pestered them for all of the details. Not once did I consider the sadness they might feel missing the first kick, the excitement of the birth, or cutting the umbilical cord. Perhaps they felt guilty not being home to support their wives as their child grew inside the womb. Perhaps they felt remorse for missing the irreplaceable moment when their child took its first breath.
Sitting outside the long row of trailers, with our guitars in hand, my dear friend Dylan (a captain with the Striker Brigade), voiced the thought that perhaps his child was coming into the world as his replacement. At the time, he felt that the birth of his son was foreshadowing his own death. Ironically, his son’s due date fell on his birthday. As one of the deployed first-time fathers, Dylan struggled with the thought of never meeting his son. He had so many experiences to share, lessons to teach, and love to give. Instead of holding his newborn son in the delivery room, Dylan held a pen in Mosul, Iraq, and wrote a letter to his new child. Putting his thoughts on paper was his way of bonding with his new son.
Now that I have a family of my own, I feel that I’m able to empathize with the spouses of the deployed soldiers as well. Although the threat level is high for the soldiers abroad, I think the emotional strain may be harder on the ones who stay behind. The spouse is left to carry on as normal, without the person they rely most on. I imagine there is a cloud filled with worry, fear, doubt, and uncertainty looming over their heads. The cloud rains on the children of the deployed soldiers as well. In the “Mother to Medic” video, Jaymie’s son states “I was so worried all of the time, I acted up a lot.” This worry and longing for his mother caused his grades to drop, affected his attitude, and in his case caused weight gain.
Source : http://homefires.blogs.nytimes.com
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