6 Weeks With My Daughter

I am nearing the end of this 6 week span of time without my son being here. He has been spending time in Florida with my parents. I could have easily titled this "6 weeks without my son", but this time wasn't about him. It was about my girl and my time for self reflection. My goal for these few weeks was to get to know my daughter. What I didn't realize at the start, was that I already know her. I know her more deeply than anyone else does. I can tell you exactly the way she thinks, and why she thinks it. Who she is, was not as lost to me as I once thought it was. This realization hit me hard, because for so long, I felt as though I had to work at having a realtionship with my daughter. All along, it wasn't work at all. It was right there in front of me, and I was so blind to it, that I was missing it.

I'm going to take you all waaaay back to 11 years ago. I was pregnant with Haliegh and just about 5 weeks before my due date. Of course I was excited to be having a baby. I was thrilled at the opportunity to become a mother. I dreamed of what she would look like and who she would grow up to be, like any parent does. Yet, somehow, I felt disconnected from her. It is a really hard feeling to describe, and it may have been caused by some sort of pregnancy depression. There is no way for me to use my words here, but from what I understand, there are many other women out there who have felt this way. It is my hope that I am able to help you see things differently. Labor and delivery went smoothly, though it was not what I wanted. I didn't get to hold her for almost 20 minutes after she was born. She came out of me, and went straight to being weighed and bathed, and having the goop put in her eyes. I never got to see my baby girl brand new. At least not beyond the doctor holding her up. I will never know the experince of a c-sec, and for that I am grateful, but I have had friends explain similar frustrations of not being able to see or hold their babies directly after the proceedure. I did all of that work to bring her into the world, only to be told I had to wait. She was healthy. There was nothing wrong with her. The doctor just wanted to get through the inital exam.

Her first few days were blissful, but there were people coming and going, visting constantly. Family and friends, and not a whole lot of room for bonding alone with her. I wish I would have been stronger at that time. I wish I didn't care what other people would have thought if I had just said I needed time alone with her. When everyone left the colic set in. I cannot begin to tell you how awful that was! Her dad was working a mid shift, 2-10, and then he would turn around and work the printing press at the newspaper. He did this because she screamed so much that we didn't trust anyone else with her. She slept, barley. Along with the colic was the spitting up. Not your normal baby spit up. Nope! She was projectile at all times. She had a constant yeast infection under her chin and on her chest. It would get to the point where she would spit up clear fluids when there was no more formula left in her. She also developed diaper rash so bad  that at every changing she would tremble and stop breathing for a moment before her face turned pruple and she would just scream in pain. This wasn't just a passing diaper rash. This was constant for almost a year. So her I am, a young mother, with a baby who screamed for 9 hours out of the day, and piled under smelly spit up laundry because I couldn't keep up. I had friends, yet I felt so alone in the time. With each passing hour, I felt myself pushing my daughter futher and further away. I remember at one point I needed sleep. I couldn't think or stop crying. I couldn't function. I remember laying her in her crib when she was only 2 months old and listening to hear screaming. I couldn't handle it. I was so scared that I would snap. I put ear plugs in and I fell asleep. I took a very much needed nap, and woke in a panic! When I took the ear plugs out, I couldn't hear her. I thought something was wrong and I went rushing in to her room, only to find her sleeping peacefully herself. I felt awful! How long had she screamed alone in there while I slept? What did she learn in that moment about me, her mother, the one person who should be holding her through her screaming pain and confusion. Instead, I put her down, and I walked away. It wasn't forever. She had been fed. She had a clean diaped. I realize now that I needed those precious few hours of sleep, becuase the thoughts running through my head were not truly mine. They were a nightmare and I needed to refresh myself.

Finally, when she was 6 months we had some reprieve. She was diagnosed with a milk, soy, protein intolerance (MSPI) and within a week was an entirely new child. Once again, I felt myself easing back into this loving motherhood role, but I had to constantly remind myslef to bond with her. I told myself over and over again to pay attention to her. She was such a happy baby after her formula was switched. She started to thrive and gain weight. She started learning new things very quickly, and she started sleeping through the night. Boy, could I write novels on those first 6 months of her life! I loved her, but I had to almost force myself to do the things, like take photos with her.,....you know....becuase every mom has that beaming smile photo with their child. I went through the motions. Looking back now, I see that I just looked tired. My smile look staged. I was having fun with her, but I also felt obligated to do so. Then when she was 2, her dad and I divorced. It wasn't easy at the time. We fought a lot at the begining. We had to work to get to where we are now with her. But, back then, it wasn't always pretty. We split custody 50/50. I was judged very harshly for "allowing" this arrangement. As if I was suddnely the sole parent in this relationship. As if her dad wasn't capable of being a parent if I wasn't there. I knew better, and chose instead to work together with him for her sake. We chose an every other week plan, and once again, what little bond I did feel was starting to break.

Fast forward a couple of years, and Caleb comes into the picture. Then the guilt set in even more. With as much as I felt it difficult to find my relationship with my daughter, it came so easy with my son. He was an easy baby and didn't have nearly the difficulties she had early on. Everything was different, from the pregnancy to his birth and everything thereafter. I had a midwife this time and felt more empowered in my choices. Because of this empowerment, I felt it easy to feel close to him even before he was born. I felt horribly torn as the days, weeks, and months went on. I felt incredibly over joyed with the new little life that was Caleb, yet deeply saddened over the fact that I started to realize what I had missed out on when my daughter was a baby. I wanted so badly for to have had it as easy as he did. I felt like I told myself over and over again to not show Caleb more love than what I showed her. That it wouldn't be fair. Eventually, it was just the 3 of us. Caleb was with me all the time, and Haliegh was still on an every other week agreement. My beautiful daughter was growing up, and I felt like I was missing it because I lied to myself. Each and every single day, I told myself that I had struggled being close to her. I told myself that I could never be the mother she really needed because I didn't feel that bond. Little did I know, that bond was there. It was just so close to me that I couldn't see it until I stopped putting myself down.

You see, my daughter is me. Through and through, she is so much like me, that I didn't stop to see that I know her straight to her core. I didn't have her every day for these past 6 weeks, and in the time apart from her I realized that I am enough for her. She hurt her foot at her dad's house, and the first person she called out for me was me. I don't know why this surprised me. I think it's becuase I felt

inadequate as a mom. I'm a damn good parent. I have the rules, and I do the things like softball games and sleep overs. Being a mom though, well in my mind that meant needing to have that unshakable bond with your child. I had it all along, and I had missed it.

When her dad is at his wits end with her, and she is throwing tantrums and pre-teen fits, I am the one who calms her. I reason with her. I talk her off the cliff. When she is struggling in school, I know exactly when to push her and when to back off. When she has something on her mind, I don't need to ask, because I can see it on her face. I realize now how much of her I missed out on simply becuase I didn't have enough faith in me. She did. She always did. She always believed I was the best mom that I could be. She always believed that I was exactly what she needed. I wasted so much time worrying that she and I weren't connecting, when all along our lives are synched in more ways than I could have ever imagined. She says things, she does things, things that she would have no way of knowing I said and did the EXACT same things. We aren't just talking normal kids things like hurting her foot. I'm talking exact phrases that I said when I was her age. When I am looknig for something around the house that I know she used last, all I have to do is stop and for a moment, and think like she does.....becuase her way of doing things so closely echos the way I did them growing up. It is as though I am looking at myself growing up on an alternate timeline.

I won't lie; I know have a new found guilt. The guilt of letting all of that time pass without having enough confidence in my ability to be her mom. That guilt will pass. I will not allow it impare so much of realizations I have come to these passing weeks. I am so grateful for this time alone I have had with her. We did so many fun things together, and these little adventures turned into discussions on the things she may face in these coming middle school years. I felt this time with her was imperitive becuase I know things are about to change next month when she steps into 6th grade. When I am frustrated with her, it's becuase she is so much like I was. What I need her to know beyond anything right now, is that I am confident in my ability to not just be her parent, but to be her mom. I know how she ticks, and becuase of this, I am able to redirect her drama (she is going into middle school afterall) before it starts. I am able to read her thoughts and know what she is feeling. My friends call me "calm Vanessa" when there is a storm of any sort, because after years of fury, I realize that keeping a level head is the best way of overcoming. I had to learn this through some struggles. I never want her to have to learn the way I did. However, knowing her so deeply, I am able to teach her in a way that only I could know how to. This doesn't discredit other people in her life that are teaching her. It simply means that when she struggles through these lessons, I will know exactly how to help her approach and overcome.

There may be many of you out there thinking that this is normal. That having this ability to read your child is just an every day thing. For me, and I am guessin for others, that realization doesn't come as easily. From here on out, I will not lie to myself. I will not tell myself that I have to make it a point to bond with her. Instead, I will tell myself that I am enough, just being present with her and freely allowing that echo of my childhood self to shine through her. I don't need to be ashamed of the follies I had as a child. I don't need to hide the fact that I was a goofy kid. She is goofy too, and I hope she stays that way! I hope she doesn't ever feel the need to swallow her silliness and become too serious. I hope that she embraces life with these huge dreams of hers and that she knows I will be behind her always. I hope she has enough faith in herself to always be true to who she is, and that she has the strenght to recognize that she doesn't ever need to lie to herself to fit into a role that will come natrually.

And for any other mom's out there who have this similar struggle with one or more of their children. Please know that you are not alone. Stop for a moment and recognize yourself in them. Notice the way you shine through and look at all of the confidence your tiny human has in you. Stop fighting your own lies. Stop telling yourself that you are inadequate. YOU ARE ENOUGH.