WhitneyTo Be or Not to Be a Mother -Part Two
October 16th 2006 14:44
It wasn’t a good day today. This morning I cried to my husband before he left for work. He was exhausted too. We took turns feeding Josh all night and then he left for a fourteen hour day.
Not that I rested during the day either. I never had a moment to sit. Or read. Or watch T.V. I never even had a moment to think. I used to daydream all the time. But the only thoughts I had time for these days was how could I stop Josh’s crying? And even if I found a second to daydream or think about something else I couldn’t. I couldn’t focus my thoughts or concentrate. Or they were muddled. Or in the middle of thinking something I completely forget what it was I was thinking about. Or worse still there are no thoughts that came to mind at all.
I never sat. I even ate while I fed Josh or while I tried to stop his crying. Day after day after day, the weeks of lack of sleep and lack of rest and lack of me were piling up and no one, not a doctor not friends not relatives helped, or could offer advice that helped. Not that I blamed them. If I had a choice I’d run in the other direction too. I began to envy every friend that didn’t have a baby (none did yet). I never felt so jealous. I never felt so all alone.
That crying. Morning, noon and night. I’d hear it all the time. Even when I took a shower. I was allowed to shower. Right? Even though it meant leaving my son in his crib all alone screaming his lungs out? I should be allowed to take a shower. Right? After all it wasn’t like he could hurt himself. The crib was all padded and safe. I could leave him alone? Just for ten minutes? For ten minutes I got to be away from him. I felt so guilty. I left the bathroom door open so I could hear him. To know he was alright. I could him wailing. Waaaaaaaa….the whole time he cried. It was so loud.
“Please don’t go,” I begged my husband that morning. “I want to do what I’m supposed to. I want to be a good mother. But I can’t take it anymore. Help me!” But he had to go. And I knew it. We needed the money. We weren’t rich. We were barely middle class.
I don’t think my husband truly understood how desperate I was. How sad and empty and needy I had become. He’d known me for more than ten years and in all that time I’d always taken care of business, no matter what the situation. Sure maybe there’d been some tears, a little whining but in the end I always handled what I’d had to.
And why couldn’t I handle this too? After all he was getting up as much as I was AND he was commuting two hours a day each way into the city AND he was working ten hours. If he could do that why couldn’t I handle one cute little baby? He was right. Right?
Maybe. Or maybe he was forgetting that for fourteen hours a day he got away from all that constant crying. When he was at work he didn’t hear it. And maybe he forgot that when he was on the train he had a chance to sleep. O.K. so maybe it was for an hour each way but that was almost double the three I got in a day (at night). I knew he was tired and busy but I never had a reprieve . I had to hear that crying 24/7.
Married Dating?
Not that I rested during the day either. I never had a moment to sit. Or read. Or watch T.V. I never even had a moment to think. I used to daydream all the time. But the only thoughts I had time for these days was how could I stop Josh’s crying? And even if I found a second to daydream or think about something else I couldn’t. I couldn’t focus my thoughts or concentrate. Or they were muddled. Or in the middle of thinking something I completely forget what it was I was thinking about. Or worse still there are no thoughts that came to mind at all.
I never sat. I even ate while I fed Josh or while I tried to stop his crying. Day after day after day, the weeks of lack of sleep and lack of rest and lack of me were piling up and no one, not a doctor not friends not relatives helped, or could offer advice that helped. Not that I blamed them. If I had a choice I’d run in the other direction too. I began to envy every friend that didn’t have a baby (none did yet). I never felt so jealous. I never felt so all alone.
That crying. Morning, noon and night. I’d hear it all the time. Even when I took a shower. I was allowed to shower. Right? Even though it meant leaving my son in his crib all alone screaming his lungs out? I should be allowed to take a shower. Right? After all it wasn’t like he could hurt himself. The crib was all padded and safe. I could leave him alone? Just for ten minutes? For ten minutes I got to be away from him. I felt so guilty. I left the bathroom door open so I could hear him. To know he was alright. I could him wailing. Waaaaaaaa….the whole time he cried. It was so loud.
“Please don’t go,” I begged my husband that morning. “I want to do what I’m supposed to. I want to be a good mother. But I can’t take it anymore. Help me!” But he had to go. And I knew it. We needed the money. We weren’t rich. We were barely middle class.
I don’t think my husband truly understood how desperate I was. How sad and empty and needy I had become. He’d known me for more than ten years and in all that time I’d always taken care of business, no matter what the situation. Sure maybe there’d been some tears, a little whining but in the end I always handled what I’d had to.
And why couldn’t I handle this too? After all he was getting up as much as I was AND he was commuting two hours a day each way into the city AND he was working ten hours. If he could do that why couldn’t I handle one cute little baby? He was right. Right?
Maybe. Or maybe he was forgetting that for fourteen hours a day he got away from all that constant crying. When he was at work he didn’t hear it. And maybe he forgot that when he was on the train he had a chance to sleep. O.K. so maybe it was for an hour each way but that was almost double the three I got in a day (at night). I knew he was tired and busy but I never had a reprieve . I had to hear that crying 24/7.
Married Dating?
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