A Terrible Mother
I am a terrible mother.
Wait, before you stop reading and just go "yeah, great, another mother who is beating herself up because she can't live up to 100% organic or whatever," let me explain.
My son, P, is 2. Two, the bane of toddlerhood, or the joy, whatever your viewpoint. He is the best behaved 2 year old you'll see almost anywhere, and I do have corroboration from outside sources. Calm, quiet, helpful - not saying that he doesn't attempt to push some limits, because that he does from time to time. The thing is, he does not run and play, he does not jump, dance, giggle, or sing when he's with me. Nor does he allow me to sing when I am with him. And that, my internet friends and neighbors, is what is disturbing me.
You see, he was going to be a big brother. He kissed my tummy, he felt kicks, he even helped sort through toys "for baby girl" and generally we did all the things you do when you're going to have a sibling come into the house. But at the beginning of April, my daughter's whole life outside the womb was an hour and 35 minutes. P never got to see the baby, baby A that I held in my arms while my mother sang a lullaby, baby A who should right now be disturbing me for a feeding, baby A who was going to be a part of our family.
The thing is, there's no books on dealing with grief for a child who is barely verbal. He simply doesn't have the words to say much more than "Mama sad, want Mama be happy." He has become clingy, he's got sleep disturbances (as do I, seeing that it's 12:36 am and I'm typing a blog) and he doesn't want to do anything more than "cuddle up with Mama and Daddy" on most days.
This is the time of life when so many things are being set in his little head - and I am helpless. I simply cannot muster silliness and play for my child. Not that I don't love him, don't get that idea - he is the main reason I'm not careening down some highway or something right now - but that I simply cannot pay attention to his needs right now. He needs sunshine and fresh air, he needs to giggle and laugh, he needs not to feel like he has to stay attached to my leg forever. That's why I 'm a terrible mother.