Writing this post has become a daunting task. I have stopped several times, reread it a million times, erased, deleted and started over, and still can't decide if this is something I want to post or not. I tell this story not for sympathy or to bash him but out of solace for my own sanity. Here goes nothing...
One year ago today...that's when my son last saw his father. I have felt every different emotion I can think of. Although it has been an ongoing struggle for me to not feel blame, this was not a choice made by myself or my child but by him, his father. Whatever issues he and I had have been long gone in my mind for upwards of two years and should never be a factor into him seeing his son so this has become unfathomable in my mind. Not even a phone call for his 4th birthday, his second hospital stay for meningitis, a late night hospital breathing treatment (last night actually), or Christmas. No soccer games or practices, no Christmas program at school, and no tee ball opening day. He is obviously in a place in his life where we are better off without him. I don't feel he would be a healthy influence. But none the less, I can't even describe the pain and anguish I feel for my son. He goes through stages where he has tons of questions and wants to talk about it then stages where he ignores it. I have heard a range of things like when one of his friends asked about his dad "He's at work. He works a lot." or "I don't know where my daddy is and it makes me sad." to "My daddy is not ready to be a daddy but I hope I can tell him how to be one when I see him." He started really asking questions about the end of May last year (at 3 1/2 years old). He did talk to him on Fathers day last year but what followed made it apparent he was feeling more hurt than he knew how to verbalize. It then became a struggle for me to stay positive about his father while making sure to tell him how many other people close to him loved him very much and reassuring him he was not to blame for any of this. But I did it and continue to do so in stride. I have never spoken ill will to Max other than when after talking about his feelings one day I told him my feelings were that it made me angry. I later was told that was ok, it was important for him to hear that so he knew it was ok to be angry (as long as you deal with it in a healthy manner).
We started seeing a therapist together in January this year because he was having periods where he would stop what he was playing with, mope, and go lay on the couch (periods of obvious depression). I struggled with it a long time before deciding I needed to take him to see someone but after seeing this happen multiple times (especially the closer it got to the holidays) I knew something had to be done. I was afraid it would further damage and taint his mind having to talk about something so traumatic with someone he didn't know but looking back I couldn't be happier with my decision. During these depressive periods he had when I asked him what was wrong he would tell me he was sad and most of the time when I was able to get him to open up about it he would tell me "I just really miss my daddy" but sometimes he just wanted to be left alone, not touched, not comforted. Either way, I cried every time. To me, it was way more than anything a normal 4 year old should have to deal with. He is a lot like me, he struggles in silence, rarely in front of others so I was pleasantly surprised when he opened up like he did to a complete stranger in his therapist. It did take him a couple sessions to warm up but after having to cancel one of the sessions during the snow event he said when we were walking in one day, "I really hope we get to talk to Miss Denise today. I really need to talk to her about my daddy." It was so grown coming from his little mouth that I couldn't help but giggle a little.
There has also been anxiety issues that has gone beyond the normal for a child his age. With the exception of his school and a few people's houses he has been going to for years he is constantly not wanting to let me leave his sights out of fear I will never return "like his daddy". Or when he thinks I'm going to leave him in the car, even if I'm just walking around it to let him out. He also has periods similar to panic attacks mainly in the car when we are stuck in traffic or can't seem to get somewhere fast enough for him where he starts hyperventilating and can't really verbalize why. Max has many close female influences in his life but unfortunately not many males. Its funny because when I do see a male friend of mine who takes the time to play with him or talk to him I normally send them a text later on thanking them. They probably think I'm crazy but he doesn't get that and I am more appreciative of that than imaginable. His closest male influences are my brother who lives in California and my best friend who has been in Afghanistan for the past 6 months which further complicates the separation anxiety issue.
It also became apparent in his sessions as his therapist pointed out to me several times that I had a lot of issues I was dealing with as well. My mom has told me more than once in the past year that I was "made to be a single parent" in that it worked for me and I could do it well but believe me that's purely on the surface. I'm 100% exhausted all the time, sleep like a freight train could come plowing through my house and not wake me up, and anyone who has been to my house after work on a week night knows I am moving 90 to nothing from the time my feet hit the floor at our house until the time Max goes to bed. Its not only the physical toll, its a monetary toll (that I won't get into) and emotional toll it takes on your body to be a single parent. I have been asked several times before "How do you do it?" and my answer normally is "I don't have a choice." I'm his everything, he needs me. There are so many days where I just want to stay in bed but I don't have that choice. I don't have sick days, I don't have vacation days. Now I'm not saying I don't get plenty of help from my family. I have no idea where I would be without them but I am his only parent. I solely make the decisions that could affect him for the rest of his life. I'm angry, I'm sad, I'm resentful but I'm also thankful, I'm overjoyed, I'm fulfilled.
I have been told more than once this week "Mommy, you are the bestest mommy ever" and that's what makes it all worth it for me. Although this is not where I thought we would be in our lives I know its where we are supposed to be.
