Kittymomma's Adventures

Yesterday was such a Monday. Pregnancy hormones are hitting me hard. I am so, so determined to not be as cranky with Max during this pregnancy as I was at times during my pregnancy with Lucy. I did quite well yesterday, but I think my exasperation still showed a couple of times.

So, yesterday’s post was negative, negative, negative. That’s life. But just one day of it. I have good day and bad days, but I mostly love my life. In fact, yesterday turned around right after I published my post.

I was sitting with Max waiting for him to go to sleep. He has wanted me with him every night for at least a week. He wants me, not Daddy. The one night Daddy stayed in there, it didn’t go too well. I ended up sending Chris to give Angus his heart meds while I soothed Max to sleep. (Chris rocks at getting Angus to take his heart meds.)

The last few nights, he has really fought sleep. He wants to stay up and play and talk. I just sit there being as boring as possible. Minimal talking. Lots of snuggling. He eventually gives in and I sneak out.

Some nights I have loved doing this for him. Some nights I was determined to do it for his sake. Some nights I spent the whole time praying to God that Max would just go to sleep already, because I was tired and nauseous and really uncomfortable on the floor next to his bed. Between my bad back and my growing belly, sitting next to a toddler bed for long periods of time ranges from uncomfortable to painful. But I think about how he needs to know we are there for him no matter what. He needs to know we will protect him and keep him safe. He needs his sense of security back. So, I sit and smile and refuse to give up until he sleeps.

Last night I was sitting there, quietly smiling at Max, intermittently urging him to go to sleep. Suddenly, he looked up at me with the sweetest smile on his face. I couldn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth.

“You can leave.”

I didn’t believe my ears. “What?” I stupidly blurted.

“You can leave”, with the same beatific smile on his little face. I think he looked a bit proud, too.

“Are you sure?” I was pretty sure this was a trick of some sort.

“Yes.”

“Ok, I love you. Sleep tight.”

I stood up, crossed the room, and stood by the door. I blew him a kiss. I think he said he loved me. I smiled. I might have thanked him. He turned over. I left the room and barely heard a peep from him the rest of the night.

I couldn’t believe it. I was so proud of him. I hardly dared believe that he had simply realized he was safe and secure and didn’t need me to go to sleep anymore. He has only told me to leave once before. I am so proud of him.

This morning, I grew even prouder. Chris told me that Max woke up and said he needed to go potty! And he did! I think it was because it finally clicked in his mind that he gets trains from the prize bucket when he potties. Either way, it is still a breakthrough! He said it and did it!

I wrote about some complicated feelings yesterday. Some of the harsh realities of my situation. I told the truth. I do hate having only one child, mostly because of the way it happened. It definitely has its perks, but this didn’t happen the natural way. We didn’t choose to stop at one. Our other children haven’t grown up leaving us with our youngest at home. My daughter was taken from me. I miss her. I hate the hurt this has caused me, my husband, and my son. I get angry sometimes at the extra burden posed by helping my son through this, while I am suffering through it, too. I worry that we won’t handle it well and he will be marked negatively by this forever.

But I know we can handle this. Max started play therapy at My Healing Place last Friday and I think I’ve already seen a difference in him. I am fully committed to giving him as much extra security and support as I can, no matter how drained it makes me feel at times. This won’t last forever. It will get better. It will be worth it. And some day, I will miss the days that he thought I was so awesome he didn’t want to be separated from me for a moment.

I am so grateful for Max and Chris and the new baby. I am so grateful I had Lucy. I am sad that I will never see my three children together. I will never have a photo of them together. It saddens me that this baby will be born and I will be back to two instead of actually having three. I wonder how I will handle comments about being pregnant with my second or having two from people who don’t know the situation. Because I will be a Momma of three no matter what happens with Lucy or this baby. Nothing will ever change that. And I will have to find a way to share my truth with people without making them feel like an ass for asking. I will never deny Lucy. I will never omit that she was here.

I actually long for twins, because it seems like that would make up for losing Lucy a little bit somehow. I guess I feel like life owes me a baby. I will have three living children that way. I will achieve my dream without having to worry about chickening out of another pregnancy a few years down the road. I have always wanted twins anyway. I even read some old wives’ tales about ways to conceive twins. They probably don’t work, but you never know. J

I go back and forth on it, but I have had some strong feelings that this baby is a boy. I have mixed feelings about that, because I want another daughter so desperately. Not to mention that Max desperately wants another sister and is convinced that the baby is a girl. Of course, I could be wrong. But I was right about Lucy and Max. That’s another reason I wanted twins. I desperately want a daughter and worry that I will always feel a little bit unfulfilled if I don’t have another. But I would also love to have another son. Boys are wonderful.  I would be over the moon if I found out we were having boy and girl twins. It’s a long shot, but you’ve got to ask for what you want, right? You just never know.

If I end up without another daughter, I am back to how things look as opposed to the truth of my life. It shouldn’t matter what people think or see. I know the truth. But I have seen friends post on their Facebook pages about being “proud to be a boy mom”. Would I be a boy mom if I only raise boys to adulthood? Lucy will always be my daughter, no matter what.  Again, we come back to lying by omission (which I won’t do) or making people feel awkward if they comment on my having boys and I have to set them straight. I won’t properly belong in either club. I will not be a boy mom, because I had a beautiful, amazing daughter. She was real. But she’s not here.

I know I am borrowing trouble here. These situations probably won’t come up that often. And we don’t need clubs. We are all mothers. But I can’t pretend I don’t think about it. I was proud of having a daughter and very proud of my actual daughter. I can’t pretend I don’t miss showing her off. I want all of my beautiful family to be visible to the world. Just like everyone else.

I have worked through and processed these feelings since I found out I was pregnant. I know I can handle whatever comes. Whatever we have, boy or girl, twins or singleton, everything will be ok. It already is ok.

I can do this. I will not worry about breaking down. I am strong and I know how to take care of myself and everyone else. And I am so glad I have all of you with me, rooting for me and my family.