Published by PaintingChef on 27 Sep 2013 at 11:51 am
Nothing but questions. Really, truly, wholly honest questions. The kind I’m probably not supposed to ask out loud…
It’s so difficult, this not being able to talk about it. I have so many things that I WANT to put out there, ponder out, ramble about and just, in general… GET OUT OF MY HEAD. How terrified I am that I’m just crewing it all up, making her life worse, not being the parent she needs or deserves.
This is the hardest, most heart-wrenching and sometimes spirit and soul-crushing experience I’ve ever had. I try so hard to find the good times, the few moments in each day where it all makes sense and I just KNOW that this is right. This is our path. This is where we are meant to be and this is our little person, the piece that completes us and makes us whole. I want that so desperately.
But it’s just… not there. One month in today. And no, that’s not long enough. I know that. We don’t say “I love you” to each other, there are plenty of hugs and kisses. I am “mommy” and Patrick is “daddy”. On the surface it all works. She even has my blue eyes. She could be ours. But she isn’t. Not now. And I don’t know if she ever will be. It’s just too soon. Much like counting votes… just too close to call right now.
We went to the beach. She was… well she’s three. I’ve mentioned that, right? But it was her first time to see the ocean and the beach and the joy on her face was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Lie. That’s a lie. I’ve seen that joy on the face of my sweet puppies on the boat and they don’t follow it up with a temper tantrum… But there was just so much learning for her on this trip. Everything is new and foreign. Sharing. Eating fruits and vegetables. Bedtime. A routine. Not being an asshole (and who am I to teach her that?)
She is confused. She is apprehensive to trust. I get that. She is uncertain of her place. It was suggested to me that she is testing us now because she is finally comfortable with us and is more trusting. Maybe so. That would be a good thing, for sure. But holy cats can she test. She can push and prod and she finds buttons I didn’t know I had. And every time that I get frustrated or upset, I want to crawl in a hole. How dare I? This little person has been through things I couldn’t even conceive of. If anyone deserves a beak, is it not her? But if I bend, am I doing her any favors?
I have no idea. I have no clue if this is what I am cut out for. It’s not that this has me questioning if I want to be HER mother. It’s that it has me fearful that I’m not cut out to be ANYONE’S mother… and that I might be perfectly okay with that.
I’m not the “fun” parent. That’s fine. Kids need to be clothes, fed, bathed, put to bed. I read books with the best of them but I become irrationally annoyed when she takes the book and wants to “read it to me” which basically consists of her counting monkeys, regardless of the presence of monkeys in the book. I refuse to let her read “Goodnight Moon” to me… that is mine. That is my closure to the day. I read her goodnight moon and if she isn’t too mad at me, she gives me a kiss goodnight.
She called for me after we put her to bed last night. I was in the kitchen and over the monitor I heard a little voice saying “mommy? Mommy!!” And so I went to her and she just wanted a hug. A little extra cuddle. (Okay, she also wanted a cupcake, a cereal bar, milk, stickers and a doll but what she got? Was a cuddle). She laid her head on my should and for a minute, all was right with the world. So there are flashes. There are moments where I think I could be alright with this. But so far, that’s the best I’ve got…
What’s wrong with me?
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