So another first ... though I had my son this Christmas (with it being an "odd numbered year" and all), he left today to spend the remainder of his school holiday with his father. He will be gone nine nights, which is the longest I've ever been without him in a decade basically. (I know, I should be living it up and enjoying it, right? But not possible.)
I seem to be coping with this holiday better than I did the Thanksgiving holiday, which is a good thing. I'm trying very hard to accept this ruling and to avoid being SELFISH, though it's difficult. I believe everything happens for a reason, and I'm certain my son needs to spend time with his father, no matter how much his departures break my heart. Is it possible to be too attached to one's child? I'm not looking for a response from any men ... I truly believe men simply cannot understand how very connected a mother and child are.
I remember when I learned I was pregnant, and oh how I cried. I bawled. I called my own mother ... I was terrified because being a mother is a HUGE responsibility. I stopped all of my medications immediately upon learning I was pregnant. I breastfed for four months after his birth, and I was very careful about what I put in my body -- FOR HIM, not for me. When it comes to me, I'm usually reckless. His conception changed everything for me.
And I've spent the last nine years trying to be the best mother I can, given where I'm at. No one is perfect, and I definitely am not.
A friend told me, "Parenting, at it's best, is heartbreaking." And I believe that to be so true. It might have something to do with why I've never wanted or had another child. It's so hard to love another person so much, especially for someone like me who is difficult to really get to know and understand. Perhaps everyone's that way; perhaps I'm not so "unique."
Anyway, I think I'll be OK while he's gone. I'm going to work on Monday; I have NYE plans with my boo and with another mother friend I adore and haven't seen in quite some time.
I've also managed to clean out all of my drawers and my master bedroom closet, and the charity is coming Monday to pick up a giant bag I filled with clothes to be donated.
This year has been difficult, but again, perhaps necessary? I'm looking forward to 2014. And I think I might actually be OK.
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