Sigh of Relief

Life is good. Finally.

I found myself to be much more emotionally stable those first few weeks this time around. Surprisingly so, actually. I didn't once go into hormonal basket case mode over nothing. I did, however, go into basket case mode over SOMETHING.

I finally feel like I can open up about it. I haven't failed as a Mom. I'm not alone.

When Liam was a little baby, Andy worked the night shift, and then he soon switched over to a 3pm to 11pm shift. This meant he was essentially a stay-at-home dad until 2pm, and then he dropped him off at daycare until I picked him up 3 hours later. They got a LOT more bonding time in that first year than I did. I think this is probably why my son has always been a "Daddy's Boy." Probably from about the time he was a year old on, there was always an obvious preference for Daddy.

Things were always great when it was just the two of us. Liam's always been a very loving child. However, as soon as Daddy would walk in the door, his eyes would always light up, and I'd become invisible. It always tore me up to a certain degree. Any message board or article I ever read and any time I ever brought it up to the doctor, I always got "it's a phase - it will pass." Well, I'd waited 2 years for this "phase" to pass, and there was no indication that it would.

From the time that I was about 7 months pregnant on, I was pretty much completely immobile between the back pain and the general discomfort of third trimester. Andy started taking on a lot (basically anything that involved any kind of physical exertion beyond the perimeter of the couch). Even getting in and out of Liam's bed for story time at night was pretty treacherous (he'd inevitably need me to get something once I was in).

I felt like I wasn't able to give him even close to 100%, probably not even 60%, and I think he caught on and started resenting that. His preference for his Dad intensified during the end of my pregnancy and after Macy's birth and turned into an all-out rejection.

It absolutely KILLED me. Everyone talks about how boys just LOVE their Mommies, but I couldn't get a hint of affection from him. There's something SO special about a son - I always say that I don't think any Mom should go through life without a son. I love him like I never thought I could ever love a kid, and I just felt like he was slipping away from me.

Every time I heard the words "I want Daddy" or "go away, Mommy," my heart broke a ton more.

I was still recovering, not 100%, and also had a little one to care for. I think Andy got so used to raising a toddler that he kinda lost his touch for caring for an infant, so it ended up that he would take care of Liam while I took care of Macy, for the most part (I think he was also afraid of bonding so much with her that the same thing happened with her - he wanted to give me a "Mommy's Girl"). This of course didn't help much, nor did the hormones, which otherwise didn't much affect me.

Bedtime was particularly difficult for me. I always used to spend bedtime with Liam, but once the success of Big Boy Bed deteriorated into a major challenge at the end of my pregnancy, he started demanding that Andy be there and not me. That was MY time - if ever there was a part of the day that I could have some bonding time with him, that was it. Instead, he didn't want me to read anything to him, he would cuddle up to Andy, and sometimes he would tell me to leave.

I had a few crying sessions - like, heaving, uncontrollable crying sessions. I was *this close* to calling a counselor to help me through it. It's not that I was all-out depressed, but I really needed someone to help me work through it and figure out how to handle the situation without driving him further away. I was afraid that if I didn't give him his space, I'd smother him and cause resentment, but if I sat there on the sidelines, I'd lose my relationship with him entirely.

Ultimately I never made the call. It wasn't that I was too nervous or indignant to do it, I was just lazy...just like it took me several weeks to call to make my hair appointment, and I still have not called to set up a dentist appointment sometime this month. It was like that.

Andy was off for 4 weeks, and while I was dreading having to face the responsibility of two kids alone, I was also kind of looking forward to the possibility of getting my son back.

And I did! It got exponentially better after Andy went back to work. I was feeling better physically and had more to give Liam. We also have a little bit of a jealousy factor with Macy in the picture; when I am holding her, he wants to be with me. When I'm not holding her, I think that he realizes that he can take advantage. I have gotten some amazing cuddle time in with him, which is something that I was only really ever able to get when he was sick and in need of extra TLC.

I also read an article online that finally reassured me that it's something that will one day pass, and also something that shouldn't be taken personally. It said that it could take 6 years, even. I don't even remember what the article said, but whatever it said gave me hope that this really is something that will pass, even if it takes a long time.

There's definitely still some preference there for Andy. It's not like the situation has completely resolved, but I can handle the preference much more than I can handle the rejection. Having been there and back, this is something I can deal with. Liam is a ton more affectionate towards me than he was before I was pregnant, and I've just gotten to bond with him in between Macy's hungry, tired, stinky, and inconsolable moments.

I am breathing a sigh of relief. And I am loving my little boy and every "Mommy play with me," and every "I wanna hold Mommy." Every hug, every kiss, every moment that I can steal with him.