Today is bad, like the first day. Worse, maybe, crying more. It's sinking in that when my baby needs attention I'm not there to give it to him. When he's hungry I'm not there to feed him. When he's awake and quietly curious (my favorite), I'm not there to stare back at him and make smiles with him and share life with him. Three days was long enough -- too long; how can I get through today and tomorrow?
Tomorrow will be the worst, as Andy or I will have to drive Fletcher to Hartford before work, and drive back to get him after work. I won't have my lunch time with him. He will no longer be 12 minutes away. He'll be on the other side of the county and I will have to experience, again, the greatest separation of distance and time that there has ever been between us.
Then this weekend, which I had counted on as my recovery time, has been overrun with plans. Everyone wants Fletcher. What I want is to relive maternity leave for three days -- just the three of us at home, focused at all times on giving Fletcher what he needs and wants at every moment of the day.
But maternity leave -- those beautiful, brief weeks where I could be the mom that I want to be -- is really over. I can't believe I won't get to experience that again, at least not until we have another baby. I can't be selfish anymore. Nearly six weeks in, and I'm supposed to be adjusted already.
Realization: I am not superwoman. No amount of effort will fix this fault.
If I'm honest with myself, I'm sure that Fletcher hasn't noticed any difference and I'm sure that he's perfectly happy with life. He doesn't go back to the doctor for almost four weeks. He has a fairly severe rash on his face and head (cheeks especially), of which we aren't sure the cause. We're being careful not to touch it or put anything more than water on it, and now we just need to be patient and non-panicked while we wait for it to go away.
No comments:
Post a Comment