I'm not sure if I'm the best auntie (due to distance) but I do know that I'm being the best mom that I can be.
The fears that I wouldn't be enough are still there but I don't have a choice. I made my choice.
2015: A year of pain and loneliness decimated what was left of what little hope that remained. Fleeting moments of joy teased me, allowing me to hang on. Winter of 2015, I had lost the will to live. I had no intention to kill myself but neither any desire to take care of myself. I knew I needed a change and yet, I was too depressed to dig myself out.
A rough Christmas in Dallas, ended with me engulfed in a book at the airport. I love losing myself in my imagination and escaping in books. Books soften the blow of loneliness but can also encourage isolation. I've spent much of my life reading rather than socializing. If the battery on my Kindle hadn't died, right before hopping on the bus back to Boulder, I would not have made eye contact with my son's father.
Left with a waning phone battery, I sat on the bus, watching the steady stream of people boarding the bus. We locked eyes and he asked to sit next to me. Conversation was effortless. He was thoughtful and sweet. He asked for my number. I gave it. I was lonely and I thought I made a friend. I even told everyone at work the next day about my excitement at making a new friend.
I'm a fucking idiot. I get asked out, maybe once a year... if that. Very few are attracted to me. Even after hanging out all afternoon, I was still surprised when he asked If he could give me a massage. "Ohhhh..." and then it clicked. I like back massages almost as much as I like sex. So I said yes. Cause well, back massages mean sex.
He didn't want kids. He was into open relationships. And I had low standards at this point. I didn't love him but I did care about it. He said he "had a deep need for affection." I'm not an affectionate person and didn't think I was what he or I needed. I tried to end things before they really got going. I told him I needed to figure out how to make myself happy on my own. But he was persistent. And well, did I mention I like sex?
The turn offs began to pile up and I began to hate myself for continuing to hang out with him rather than do other things. A series of events: my 30th birthday, my sister's baby shower, a long conversation with my wifey in NYC, and I decided to break things off and move to the big Apple. I needed a big change and I was so certain I had found the answer to my unrest.
Less than one week after my sister's baby shower and telling everyone I didn't want to have kids, I got knocked up. What was intended to be break up sex, turned into lifelong tie sex. The hippie I met on the bus will forever be the father of my son.
At another point, I might divulge all the painful details of that Spring, I just can't right now. I went from telling this poor dude that I was pregnant and planning to have an abortion, to telling him that I was giving up my baby up for adoption, to telling him that I couldn't bare the thought of my baby thinking he wasn't wanted and someone else raising him. I was keeping my baby. Our baby.
Daddy freaked. It took him time. Overtime, he has shown great love for our son. He's still a shit show but he loves our son. And I suppose I love him. I'm not "in love with him". I'm not even sure what being in love with someone even means. What's the difference between being in love and infatuation? Semantics? Is romantic love just the normal variety mixed in with some sex and delusion?
I'm not sure why my conversation with my baby daddy last night upset me so much but it did. He wants me to say "I love you" to him in front of our son. I can do it. But I hate that his insecurities regarding how our son feels about him is driving this. Our son has shown great excitement about his daddy visiting and gets very happy and silly the vast majority of the times we've done our video calls. But Phoenix has said some hurtful things. He can be an asshole (like most toddlers). "I don't want to talk to you daddy". "You're not my daddy." Granted, those moments are few, but they sting. I get it. Phoenix does that shit with me and my parents all the time. He wants us to be sad when he's sad or angry. It used to sting more.
I know the pain of rejection. I empathize with my son's father. but... BUT, I'm also extremely annoyed. I'm annoyed that he's so fucking sensitive. I'm annoyed that he's asking me to do something as if its my fault that Phoenix has pushed him away a FEW times. Its easier to pretend you don't care and distance yourself from someone, rather than feel rejected. Maybe Phoenix is hurt? Feels abandoned?
My son sees all the other kids get picked up by their fathers. My son has only seen his dad 4 times in person. He's 3 years old. He doesn't know why his dad isn't around. He's asked his dad on video chats if he can play and I can come pick him up at the airport. Because that's where we get Daddy from. Clearly, he wants to play with daddy.
Alas, daddy doesn't know him well. Doesn't know how to play with Phoenix. This past Christmas was unnerving. Daddy freaked out because a toddler had a hard time making up his mind about toys and had a meltdown in the store. He yelled at Phoenix. Demanded we stop at a CBD shop. "What's wrong with him?" He's a toddler. "That's why I avoid the toy aisles. Don't take it personally. Screaming kids blows," I said.
You're an adult. "Grow the fuck up," I wanted to say. He was so upset that he was going to call an Uber to take him back to his hotel. "Fuck you," I wanted to say. My mom gave him a ride. I sure as hell wasn't going to. "Uber your whiny bitch ass back" I wanted to say.
The following day, Phoenix cried at the curb of passenger drop off. He cried, "bring me with you! I'll keep you safe!" Does daddy remember that shit? No. Daddy is perseverating on a toddler's flippant comment, "you're not my daddy." So now I'm going to start saying, "I love you" to Daddy to pacify a 32 year old man baby.
Love. It's a word. I don't mind saying it. I do care about Daniel, Phoenix's dad. But I resent being told to say it to solve a non-existent problem. The last time we called Daniel, Phoenix said, "bye Daddy, I love you." But daddy doesn't remember that. Daddy doesn't remember a lot. And maybe that's a big part of why I'm so perturbed by our conversation.
What it comes down to, is I can't count on Daniel? Arrested development? Too much weed? Mental illness? I've been avoiding talking to him too much because everything he says and does annoys me. I'm struggling to love him and want to, he's a part of my son and a part of my life. So, I'm going to find a way to find compassion. I will do my best to keep him in my son's life.
What I can't do is fix his problems.
But I'm afraid his problems will hurt my son.
Fuck, I'm a mom now. This is the first person in my life that I can't just cut ties with. I hate that.
There's something so cathartic about saying something out loud. But there's something also so nice about writing it down and knowing it probably won't be read. I won't even re-read this. I have an assignment (I've been avoiding) to do on problems in Labor. My labor was not beautiful. It was painful and sad. But the most beautiful thing in my life came from such pain and sadness.
I can endure anything now. Cause Fuck!
I'm a mom.
