(continuation of last post)...
I felt sad. Defeated. I just wanted to be alone. And no matter how much alone I tried to get, it just wasn't feeling like enough. I showered. Shaved. Used every scented, exfoliating thing I had in my house. Dried my hair. Put on makeup. It just wasn't enough.
I just can't shake all the mistakes I feel like I make with my first born. The rage rising in him and in me at the height of a fit. Of a power struggle. Do I still carry guilt for not bonding right away, with this little alien creature placed in my arms after the trauma of giving birth? Do I love him enough? Does he feel loved enough? Does he love me enough? Whatever that means. However that can be defined.
Some days it feels like everything falls into place. There we are nose to nose talking about tractors or birds. He's talking a mile a minute. I'm listening. He's full of passion for all that he knows. All that I have taught him. And he does come to me for hugs when he is sad or hurt. So I must be that good place for him to feel comforted and loved.
But sometimes, I just let him down. I let him thrash and scream and spit. And I don't back down. Because, I don't want to have "one of those kids". Because, "I'm going to do everything right". And its painful. And it hurts. And I wonder, am I doing it right?
I think we moms are too hard on ourselves and on each other. You've held him enough, you've cuddled him enough, you've loved him enough. You're doing fine. He's doing fine. And here I go typing this to you, but over here I have the same or similar worries and I can't tell myself the same thing. Did I coddle him? Am I abandoning him? What if I had relaxed on that walk--could I have avoided a c-section? And we never talk to each other for fear of judgement. We lock ourselves up, where there used to be a whole community raising kids.
ReplyDeleteThough you may need some time alone, know you're not alone. I may be sitting at the end of the backyard (or upstairs, or downstairs) breathing deeply too.