Thursday, November 13, 2014
13/11
sometimes I feel like I'm not his real mother; a hangover from the IVF and egg donation I suppose. and he can be grumpy and demanding, and I'm aware I don't feel that same level of bonding as I did with my first child.
But if I'm not his real mother, why did I feel ill and weak at the knees as I left him at a perfectly fine, brand-new childcare centre today, with food in front of him and a carer on duty, after spending an hour each of the previous two days there in order to make sure he was familiar with the place? Why did I feel shaky, like I'd been punched.
It wasn't like leaving him at home with a sitter, or with his grandparents. It's commercial childcare and to be honest I'm not yet 100% convinced it's a happy place, brand new and shiny though it is. too many babies crying.
Last time I started care, it was to save my life. A had to go *somewhere* while I did chemo. I guess this time it's to save my soul, as I know I need time to work, and time free of the demands of responding to a small child. time to move at my own pace. but it doesn't feel like it's saving me right now.
and I worry for him. he's not always a happy, friendly kid. how will they treat him? how will the world?
sometimes I don't like him much myself. but I love him and I want to protect him.
as they say: it's complicated.
(and there's a certain irony in the fact that this morning I let him sleep because I knew he was going to care, and that's when I worked: and now with 20 minutes before I have to leave home, I'm writing this, not working).
sometimes I feel like I'm not his real mother; a hangover from the IVF and egg donation I suppose. and he can be grumpy and demanding, and I'm aware I don't feel that same level of bonding as I did with my first child.
But if I'm not his real mother, why did I feel ill and weak at the knees as I left him at a perfectly fine, brand-new childcare centre today, with food in front of him and a carer on duty, after spending an hour each of the previous two days there in order to make sure he was familiar with the place? Why did I feel shaky, like I'd been punched.
It wasn't like leaving him at home with a sitter, or with his grandparents. It's commercial childcare and to be honest I'm not yet 100% convinced it's a happy place, brand new and shiny though it is. too many babies crying.
Last time I started care, it was to save my life. A had to go *somewhere* while I did chemo. I guess this time it's to save my soul, as I know I need time to work, and time free of the demands of responding to a small child. time to move at my own pace. but it doesn't feel like it's saving me right now.
and I worry for him. he's not always a happy, friendly kid. how will they treat him? how will the world?
sometimes I don't like him much myself. but I love him and I want to protect him.
as they say: it's complicated.
(and there's a certain irony in the fact that this morning I let him sleep because I knew he was going to care, and that's when I worked: and now with 20 minutes before I have to leave home, I'm writing this, not working).
Thursday, November 06, 2014
walking now.
well, not now. now he's asleep on my bed with a temperature. has been hot and snotty for 24 hours. occasionally sooks and looks around and accepts a drink, then goes back to sleep.
and I shouldn't be frittering away time on the net. should be working. have accepted a revision of a book I once did. but today I just don't feel like it, however limited time is.
still wistful for the way things used to be. all that time. all those choices. all that sleep.
well, not now. now he's asleep on my bed with a temperature. has been hot and snotty for 24 hours. occasionally sooks and looks around and accepts a drink, then goes back to sleep.
and I shouldn't be frittering away time on the net. should be working. have accepted a revision of a book I once did. but today I just don't feel like it, however limited time is.
still wistful for the way things used to be. all that time. all those choices. all that sleep.
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