As a mother, you think that your child is always going to love you unconditionally. You know in the back of your mind, that this isn’t really true. I knew from the moment mine was born with those big cerulean, to turn brown eyes, I was hooked. It was an addictive love that I was never going to get enough of. I was a teenage mom, having them at just 19. Their father and I were never meant to be, finding out after we broke up we were pregnant. We got back together and tried for a few years to make it work. We were never destined to be a couple. We didn’t love each other. I loved to push his buttons. I am not sure what, if anything, he ever loved about me. Perhaps because I had his child. that much I could give him.
They never had a doubt I loved them. They still don’t, despite their angst that shadows their mind. I volunteered at school. I chaperoned field trips. I sent treats in to school. I went to open houses, parent /teacher conferences. Brought them to the doctor, the dentist. Picked them up from school if they were sick. Hosted play dates, birthday parties, made “friends” with other parents. Went to every. Single. Sporting. Event. I still do. I was the only parent doing those things. Dad showed up to the “important” things. If he could be bothered. I found myself making excuses for him. At some point, I stopped. I owed him nothing. I was busy too, actually busier. During these years, I put myself through nursing school not once, but twice. First for my LPN, then my RN. I worked 3-4 jobs. I got by with help from my friends. I was a waitress, bartender, LNA, LPN, private care, bookkeeper and gas pumper at an auto repair shop. I did it because I never once received a dime of child support. I barely slept. (Sounds like now) but I did it with a smile. My child deserved the best version of me. They didn’t need to know how hard life was for me. So, I kept doing all the mom things while I went to school. Juggle all the things.
When I was done with school and working one job,(!!!!! Can you believe it???!!!!) and had started dating my husband my child started acting out some. They had started middle school, which is hard. They had gone to a small elementary school and started at a regional middle/high school. That first semester in 6th grade, their highest grade was a 29% in all their classes. I dumbfounded. They had all the resources they needed at their finger tips, they just weren’t handing work in. Class work even. I didn’t know what to do with them.
My mother ended up moving in with me because she was having surgery. While she was staying with me, she ended up having a massive heart attack. A STEMI (ST elevation myocardial infarction)to her widow maker (left anterior descending). It was my birthday. She had been cutting my birthday cake when the pain hit her. As an ICU nurse, I recognized what was going on, and called 911. I however, did not have any aspirin to give her. We were told that it was a blessing she was staying with me because otherwise she would have been dead on the floor, home alone. We lived in a rural area, where we had only volunteer ambulance. I had to leave my child home behind while I followed the ambulance to the local hospital, then the tertiary care center, where they were able to do a cardiac cath emergently for my mother. I called my husband to come be with my son. Truth be told, I called him first before 911 to make sure I wasn’t overreacting.
My child never visited my mom in the hospital and never really was the same after that. I don’t know if it scared them half to death, or what. They started really acting out. Getting in trouble at school. Started being friends with the wrong kids. I suppose it was the growing up and wanting that connection with their dad. I was blocking that.
One night when I was stuck late at work, they got mad at me and said “It’s not like you do anything important like save lives. Dad builds houses. That’s important,” I was speechless. What did they think I did? That’s what I did. I literally had not been able to take their calls when they had been calling because I had been performing CPR multiple times on someone. I knew then, for the first time I had to change my job, to try to do better for my child.
They didn’t think I was making them a priority. I wasn’t sure how. I worked 3 days a week. I was always around. Except, I guess, when I wasn’t. I couldn’t figure it out. I lived for them. Everything I did I did for them.
EXCEPT
Now I had a boyfriend…. (My husband) and he had two kids. My attention was split. All of that undivided attention they had been getting for the last 10 years was now being shared. All the one on one times weren’t always one on one now. Sometimes it was two on one. There was animosity at times, and I wasn’t sure how to deal with that. I wasn’t sure where the anger was directed, whether it was at me, or at him.
Eventually, what happened was they moved in with their dad. Entirely. Just went there one weekend, packed a bag and didn’t come back. They had talked to dad about it and never to me. Sound familiar? I appear to attract a certain kind.
I’ve never forgiven them entirely. I’ve tried. That almost broke me. But it was nothing like this. I still showed up to everything. I made eye contact. Let them know I was still there. I was still their mom. I wasn’t going anywhere. I never showed how bad that hurt me. Then I would go home and cry about it. But you know where I went home to? The supportive arms of my husband.
Never had a white picket fence 