Sunday, August 12, 2007

Nine...

As my due date approaches, many of the emotional conflicts I had when I first found out I was pregnant are rearing their ugly heads again. Namely, I'm sad that my days alone with my baby boy are coming to an end. Complicating matters is the fact that Sam has chosen now, of all times, to cut more molars and act like an absolute pain in the ass 96% of the time.

In my mind, I had envisioned us snuggling on the couch and reading books while sun beams streamed in through the window. Instead every time I pull him close I get smacked in the eye. I imagined sharing snacks and singing nursery rhymes. Instead of sharing, Sam throws food at my head. Instead of singing we both end up sobbing. After he had refused three separate breakfasts today, and I mean refused them in a way that you would have thought I was trying to feed him cow dung, I ran upstairs and collapsed on a still snoozing SOB.

What were we thinking? If I can't even handle one child, for a scant 45 minutes, how on earth am I supposed to handle two? What will become of my sanity? I know that others have done it before me, but no one that I know personally had done this recently. With my mother-in-law in one ear telling me how SOB tried to try and poke his baby sister's eyes out, and my mother in the other telling me how I refused to smile in any picture that included my baby brother, I'm starting to think that this isn't going to be easy.

And I'm feeling like a shitty mother. Both to Sam and to the girl who hasn't even shown her face yet. I know, deep down that I'm not, but when I ask for a kiss and all I get in return is a violent head shake, I can't help but feel like he's trying to tell me something. SOB and SSIL are both finding Sam difficult to deal with, so it's not just me. But mix in the hormones and the guilt over time spent being angry at him instead of being lovey with him and you can imagine how I might make the leap to thinking that I'm a bad mommy.

To help, sometimes I sneak into his room at night and watch him sleep. When he's curled up and I can hear his little breath moving in and out, any anger that might have been building up just melts away. I remind myself that he's a toddler. He can't comprehend why his teeth hurt. When he chucks his cup at me, it's much more likely that he's upset about the throbbing in his gums and not because he thinks I'm an awful beast of a woman. Luckily I've been able to find these moments and hold onto them. I strongly suggest doing this. It's nearly impossible to be upset around a sleeping child.

And then I think to myself thank god newborns sleep a lot.

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6 comments:

super des said...

Look back on this in 13 years. Than 25 years.
I'm sure you'll feel a heckuva lot different about right now when it's over.

Did that make sense?

High Heeled Mama said...

I know I only see Sam fleetingly, but I have faith that he will be an awesome big brother. When he's 16 and protecting her from his friends you'll laugh about this time.

But for now, know you're doing the best you can and that's more than good enough.

Sending contraction thoughts your way!

Amy said...

It IS hard to parent a toddler. I find myself yelling a lot, and I hate that.

I know you'll be OK though. Just keep talking it out here with us, and you'll be great.

Amy Jo said...

Thanks friends. I know that in the grand scheme of things this time will be remembered with a positive light. I guess the hormones are getting the best of me!

Arizaphale said...

Aww mate...I really feel for you. Yes hormones, and natural concern over the new and unfamiliar situation approaching...who wouldn't be feeling insecure? (Someone self satisfied a****** we couldn't be bothered speaking to that's who)Toddlers are hell. I remember (actually 9 years olds are foul too) but it does pass. And you're right...don't take the cup in the head thing too personally :-D
That's what mummies are there for. (Must try and remember that next time SB chucks a hissy fit)
Big hugs.

Alex Elliot said...

First of all, the fact that you're even thinking about this shows that you're going to do great.

That's how I felt before I had my second son. It definitely is hard, but some things that I wasn't counting on became easier. My kids are 34 months apart. For instance, I didn't realize that my older son was capable of being more independent than he was. Who knew that if I gave him a pair of Velcro shoes that he could get them on himself or that he could locate his own backpack? The hardest transition for me was when my younger son started crawling. That's when my older one had the adjustment problems. Some days were/are really hard, but overall it was much easier than I expected. I also did swim lessons with my older one on Saturdays so I could have some alone time with him. I've started taking him to the grocery store/errands with me in the evenings when my hubby is home.