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Baby Boy and I have good days and bad days, we’re both still trying to get this family thing together. Hun goes off to work each day and returns to us, whether we’ve had a good day or bad, he doesn’t delay coming home. Nor does he mind if it’s been a rough day at home and he does his best to pitch in and help with Baby Boy. Hun does this for many reasons, most notably the one he tells us every day, “I love you”. For this and many other reasons, I love him, too. Sometimes though, I need Hun home before he gets home. The other day was one of those times.
The day went on as usual, rather innocuously. I did one or two things, Baby Boy was fed and played with, even some texting with a friend happened, and a text that one of my siblings was coming to visit briefly. All of this was pleasant. BUT, Baby Boy decided that he just was not going to nap at all, whether I stayed with him for suckling or not. Instead, Baby Boy was being quite fussy. At about this exact moment, I noticed the time. It was time to begin preparing dinner, maybe thinking of something to offer my sister and her husband for their somewhat unexpected visit. I couldn’t prepare dinner, let alone think, because Baby Boy was just crying, yelling and screaming. At times like these, my own thoughts are drowned out. Before I knew it, I’d picked him up and quite harshly put him on a couch in the living room, screaming and all. I walked away, getting no more than three steps across the room when I lost it. I had such a feeling of failure and remorse. My son wasn’t trying to spite me, he wasn’t trying to keep me from doing anything, he simply wanted his mommy.
Somewhere at some point in the preceding days I’d already begun to lose it, I just wasn’t fully aware of its meaning. The sound of him crying, a grunt or a groan, would make my hair stand on end. I had nothing left to give this day. Perhaps he sensed this in his baby way and was trying to get me to sit or take me to a point of previously unknown strength. No matter what though, I’d lost it. And there we were, both sobbing on the couch. I couldn’t do anything but sob and hold him and tell him how sorry I was, how I didn’t want to hurt him in any way, how much I love him and his importance in our family. I sobbed for about an hour. I knew Hun was on his way home and secretly hoped he’d get home before my sister and her husband arrived. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop crying.
Gathering myself enough I kept looking out the window, I wanted Hun home so desperately and the seconds felt like minutes, which felt like hours. Finally he’s home, with my sister in tow. I ran back to the bedroom to hide and motioned him in. Being the wonderful and gracious man he is, he held me until I could calm down and gain some composure. He told me it was ok, said I’m a good mom and how he understands it’s difficult sometimes. Mostly though, he just hugged me and held me and once again proved me wrong in that yes, I am wholly loved and yes, I am doing a good job with our son. I don’t know how long we were all camped out in the bedroom, but for those few minutes it felt like the best oasis ever. In those moments, Baby Boy was quietly playing with himself on the bed and I was being comforted back to reality with support and unconditional love.
And that’s what this mother needed. I’d venture to say all of us mothers need. Not just on those tough days, but every day. We all need to know that we’re loved, we’re doing a great job, and that we are wonderful if for no other reason than that we’re mothers.