Thursday, November 13, 2014


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).

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