Tag Archives: mom guilt

If I’m Being Honest

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If I’m being honest (and I am) I am beginning to have some concern for my son’s mental well-being during the pandemic. I’ll admit because he didn’t start the pandemic asking a million questions, or showing any real signs of fear I’d hoped we got through the rough period. Actually I’d hoped that he wouldn’t recognize the change and wouldn’t recognize things were different. I’d hoped he’d be able to get out of this without really knowing what happened. However, I was wrong. Delay is not definitive of denial and that was the case with my son. As time progressed, as our Stay at Home Order has been extended I’ve begun to notice things. I notice how some days he’s reluctant to go outside; yet other days he doesn’t want to go back in. I’ve noticed the excessive clinginess; the random crying outburst for no reason. I can see the fear and curiosity in his eyes when he sees everyone in masks. He’s realized he can ride to the store but no longer go in. He’s realized he no longer goes to daycare to see his teachers and friends. He’s realized we no longer go anywhere; the park; church; the mall; playdates; museums; kids shows; no more Mommy and me outings; no haircuts; none of it! And while I thought I’d escaped having to discuss this with him he wants to know why.

My personal parenting philosophy is to tell the truth, with very little sugar coating. For example stories are stories and lies are lies. Yes I shield his sense of imagination; and his feelings. I understand he has very little emotional capacity but I try to be as straightforward with him as possible. In this instance it’s too much! Yes, he deserves answers; he deserves to know what’s going on; he deserves to know why his routine has been interrupted but he also deserves to have his mental state protected. 

If I’m being honest I don’t know where to start. The Stay at Home Order is a must; our abiding by the Order is another must as it’s the best way to ensure our safety, but I’m not sure how to have this heavy conversation with him. If I’m being honest I don’t want to have this conversation with him. We literally just talked about his absent father and from what I can see he’s doing alright with that. Why must I burden a 2 year old with a pandemic as well?!? I want to protect him; his emotional capacity; his innocence. I just no longer think it’s possible. It hurts me that my young son has to bear so much unnecessary pain. Because of this I am concerned for his mental state. I’d already planned to get him a counselor once he got older to talk about and work through both the pain of not having his biological father around and the trauma of being a black boy in America. However that’s in the future, I need to help his mental state now. I’ve worked as hard as I can to keep him on his daycare schedule; we go outside as much as possible; we engage in cooking and art; we have movie nights every weekend; we have dance parties; I make sure he hears our virtual church services and Bible Studies. We get involved in the Kid’s Zoom Meet Up for church; he’s had a virtual Playdate; and I’m feverishly searching for a dog; he needs a companion. Yet, I can’t help feeling like a failure when he randomly bursts into tears; or when he gets scared because he sees a face covering. Is this really the world my child is going to grow up in?!? I can’t help but wonder how this will affect him mentally and emotionally. I also can’t help but wonder what more can I do to help him.

If I’m being honest I feel this will have a significant affect on all our children. Missed milestones such as graduations, proms and luncheons; canceled dances, sports, and arts; celebrating birthdays alone. While it’s all necessary it’s a lot to ask of our children. My heart goes out to them because I understand their sacrifices are robbing them of dreams and prolonging goals. Our villages (family, friends, parenting circles) are being stretched thin trying to make sure our babies know we understand and yet celebrate and commend them. It’s a lot!!! And while I’m being honest my heart especially goes out to my son’s half sister who is being robbed of her eighth grade luncheon and graduation. Should I care, absolutely not because of how her father disregards my son but do I care; yes, I’m a Mother. I wish (maybe too strong of a word but all I can think of right now) I could be apart of her new celebration of achievement; I’d just want to make it memorable for her but as it stands-that’s nowhere near an option. That’s not necessarily something I mourn but…I’m being honest(inserts shrug).

If I’m honest none of us want to raise broken children. I don’t want to raise a broken son; his mental and emotional health mean the world to me. But since I’m being honest this is too much for any of us😩

Untitled and Incomplete.

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A year ago when I became a single mom I knew that it meant all the responsibility for my son now rested on my shoulders but I’m not sure I understood in its entirety what being a single mom meant! Sounds stupid right, especially considering I was raised by a single mom but well it’s true. To a certain extent I had no clue what I was getting into. 

One such way being a single parent unexpectedly affected my life was my career. Prior to the birth of my son I’d been in the fitness industry for 5-7 years. I’d matriculated from Certified Personal Trainer to Personal Training Director, Team Manager, and even full time business owner. Business wasn’t booming as I was about 2 years in but I was certainly picking up steam (adding clients, and pathways to earn revenue)   and I absolutely loved being my own boss. I’d picked up a part time job with a park district to increase my exposure and experiences…things were coming along nicely. Once I found out I was pregnant I began to taper off in order to focus on preparing for my son afterall I only had about 7 weeks to get everything ready; but in true perfectionist form I had an extremely aggressive return to work date. I believe it was 8 weeks tops…..8 weeks that my boss at my part time job FORCED me to take(I taught fitness classes until I was 28weeks pregnant). My baby boy was born in November of 2017 and in my mind I was going back to work in January of 2018. In reality his birth was the beginning of my change. In spite of the fact that I worked out throughout my pregnancy; had a non complicated vaginal birth; only 2 stitches; no PPD; and no real breastfeeding issues I. WAS. EXHAUSTED!!!!! Those 2 months seemed to fly by…..and I dreaded going back to the park district.  I was just honestly too tired, however because I’d decided to give my business a break in efforts to bond with my son and learn my new role as mom I forced my exhausted self to get back to work (back to teaching fitness classes). 

From January 2018 to November 2018 I got up to teach my 5:45 am classes twice a week. Some days I went to class off thirty minutes of sleep; other days I got to class five minutes late because I’d drift off or had to stop to nurse. My level of exhaustion intensified and even now I have no clue why I never cut my loses. I remember the moms in the class telling me “three months is the sweet spot, he’ll decrease night feedings and begin to sleep longer.” I naively waited for his three month birthday and decrease in night wakings but it never happened! As if being mildly irritated that he didn’t decrease on night feedings my son hit the dreaded four month sleep regression AND began teething at the same time. The time of my classes compounded with my sleepless nights was really wearing me down. I thought “once he starts solids(6months) he’ll sleep better at least 4 hours a night.” Well not so much! He started solids and would sleep maybe 3 hours at a time provided he wasn’t in pain from teething. And because his 6 month birthday (May) starts my summer class schedule (4-5 more classes a week) I never actually reaped the benefits of his slightly longer sleep patterns. Did I mention he hit the 6 month sleep regression as well?! By now I know you’re wondering what this has to do with my being a single mom….but stick with me it’ll connect shortly. Fast forward to the end of summer 2018 I realized I was exhausted and burned out from the park district so while keeping that job; I decided to do a soft launch back into my fitness business but with a mild redirect AND pick up a full time job. I didn’t want to quit my part time out of loyalty; I wanted to get back to my business but now change my target population to new(er) moms but with a mouth to feed I couldn’t wait for the slow trickle of income….hence the full time job. Little did I know this was the beginning of the end

In August of 2018 I both started my new business venture launching a survey and newsletter AND I started a full time job. During the interview I told the management company I was a new mom of a young child and that I was the primary care giver. I asked how would my potential absences due to my child be reflected upon and a few other questions that I just don’t remember. I was told “oh well the Property Management will understand and the company is parent friendly.” This was certainly tested about 2 weeks after being hired as my child’a daycare center called me saying he has a fever and was vomiting. Long story short I missed two days on mommy duty. Again in October I was called while at work because my child was was sick, again I had to leave…only this time I didn’t need to miss a day. I did come to work late or leave early due to doctor’s appointments. Again in December I missed two days due to an ear infection. What I am not reflecting is I always made up my work, worked from home on days that I was absent; and always took the proper protocol to report an absence. 

After four months apparently it was decided my being a mom and having to take care of my child on demand was an issue. I couldn’t be fired because my job performance wasn’t the issue, but the Property Management team decided to make my life a living hell until I quit. 

Ultimately in April of 2019 I decided it was time to let go. I was at peace with my decision; I had a plan that was ready in action; and after making that decision I no longer felt stressed. There was a gigantic sense of relief. 

I learned two lessons: one, irregardless of what employers say most of them are NOT family friendly. My experience showed me that most companies are so out of touch with what it takes to be a parent these days and they’re practices reflect that. What is any parent of an infant, toddler,  or preschooler to do with 10 PTO days? PTO included both sick and vacation days, it’s not practical for any two parent household; I don’t have an adjective for what it is to any single parent household. Secondly, through this experience I learned being a single mom meant more than just “having the financial responsibilities and decision making burden on my shoulders”, it meant being the ONLY person my son had to rely on. That entailed: sick duty; pick ups and drip offs: advocating on his behalf; and etc. For some reason my career in fitness was one thing I didnt think would change when I became a mother and yet it was one of the main things that needed to change in order to give my son a better life. 

As a single parent what I needed was a job that understood my role as a parent; a job that gave me both the time freedom that I needed as well as the ability to maximize my earnings while working. It was then that I learned a high percentage of moms are independent contractors. I laughed when I read this stat because well my next career path was as a Real Estate agent. 

Badge of Shame

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My son is named after his father. In fact, he’s name after both his father and grandfather; his suffix is “III.” Once my ex rejected him( even after signing his birth certificate) I seriously debated changing his name. Not his first name, he was just about eleven months at the time and certainly used to his first name but his middle and last names……..most definitely! In my mind there was no sense in wearing the name of the person who ejected him.

Rewind to 11 months (now almost 2 years ago) I remember finding out I was pregnant and instantly thinking “well at least I don’t have to think of a name.” After telling one of my newly divorced friends my plan to name him after his father she posed some real questions. Are you sure he’s going to be around; you don’t want to name him after someone who acts an ass then you’re reminded of that person every time you call your son. “How will you feel calling your son by this name (his name) when you’re pissed off with him(the ex)? “I’m going through all of that now she remarked, I almost hate calling my son’s real name because it reminds me of his father. There’s a lot that goes into naming the child after his father, stuff we don’t think about.” I’ll admit, she scared the shit out of me. I hadn’t thought of any of that. She scared me so much I debated and actually tried to change my son’s name. I remember thinking “maybe he can just have the same initials as his dad”; maybe he can have a different name altogether, different initials and all.” I ran the idea of another name by my mom who loved it. She suggested that was a good idea as we already had 2-3 cousins with the same first name. And as she told me oddly enough one of those cousins had a middle name that was close to my son’s father’s middle name too. Agreeing that was too much, for the next three weeks I came up with different names and called my son by them……that stubborn little man wouldn’t budge. I liked one name in particular and really wished he would answer to it BUT wishful thinking. He would only answer to his father’s name….and so it was I was stuck naming him after his father. With my baby due any day now I became quite content with naming him after his dad, after all his dad was pleased with the decision AND my son refused to answer to anything else.

During the first ten months I never rethought my son’s name. Sure his dad and I had some rough times but those come with the territory of being in a relationship. It wasn’t until that night in October a year after having my first doubts that I suddenly felt as if I’d made a mistake. It was the week before my son’s baptism and his father was taking forever to give his parents the invitation. I decided we’d known one another for the longest; we had a great relationship, there was no reason I couldn’t send his mom a message with the invite myself. That was the absolute biggest mistake of my life. It was that night all hell broke loose. Long story short my son’s father told her we had a DNA test and the kid wasn’t his. Talk about an earth shattering moment. I have to stand in front of God, my Pastor, family, and church family to have my son baptized with a name of someone rejecting him?!?!? I have to stand there bearing THIS?!?!? TOO MUCH JESUS, TOO MUCH!!!!

You couldn’t pay me to believe I hadn’t made a mistake. How could I not see this happening? How was I supposed to get him baptized. Was I really going to stand there and allow him to be called by the traitor’s name? What choice did I have? This was such a nightmare. There we stood having him baptized by the traitor’s name; with a cake at dinner afterwards that also had his name…not a sole from that side of the family there. Not even his treacherous ass twenty-three other chromosomes. This was so embarrassing.

I got through that day taking the celebratory dinner to divulge to my cousins what had transpired. It helped to tell someone other than my best friends and my mother but still there was a deathly feeling. It was that damn name.

In an argument attempting to get through what happened I told the jackass that I intended to change the my son’s name because I didn’t want the baby to bear the constant rejection from someone who didn’t want him. This foo had the audacity to tell me that hurt his feelings. Pardon my language but I flipped the fuck out. Do you really think I care about your feelings after what you did to me? What about my son’s feelings? How is he going to feel as he gets older?

That was and still is such a haunting question. How do you explain to a child why you made a decision to name him after someone who decided to abandon him? The truth has been suggested, but if I’m my son I don’t want to hear “ I used to love him, we grew up together, I named you to honor him as his first born son, I didn’t see this coming, I’m sorry. He’ll hear I’m sorry because I am, I never intended for things to go this way, but really how do I teach him not to look at his name as a badge of shame? How do I teach him to handle questions about his name in school? How do I answer when he asks why we have different last names? What do I say if he asks why didn’t I change his name? Almost a year later and I still don’t have answers.

Looking back on my rant about changing his name, my mother never actually co-signed or tried to talk me out of it. From what I can remember she just let me vent. Of course my cousins said change his name and go for child support, my best friends agreed with my cousins….once they came out of their shock about the entire situation. One of my mom’s friends told me not to change his name because if anything ever happened to his father my son would get money….Lord forbid this of course. Really, the decision was mine. When I originally told his father I was changing his name I told his father he should have the privilege of giving his name to someone he loved, cared about and wanted to parent. I was serious when I said that. On the other hand it was pretty fucked up knowing he may have another son some day and the chick will never know about my kid UNTIL she tried to name her son after this same treacherous soul only to find out it wasn’t possible.

In the end I still haven’t changed his name. I let my son keep his name. I didn’t do it out of spite, fear, not for money( I’m not even seeking child support from the bastard I just want to be left alone in peace), I didn’t do it out of indecisiveness. Now I haven’t given my son a nickname he can only be called by his full name. Any nickname is entirely too close to his father, and while I forgive him and I’m moving past all this….I still don’t wanna hear that name. No bitterness there, I don’t cringe when others do it, I don’t correct them BUT I’m not making a habit out of it either. I haven’t changed his name because one day my son will be great( I truly believe this). One day my son will change the world, he will make it a better place. When that day comes I want his other twenty-three chromosomes to know he missed out. I want him to be reminded that missing out was his decision. I want him to be reminded of what he did.

I don’t know how to answer my son, I hope I never have to answer those questions but if I do I’ll tell him the truth. I named you after him because at one point I loved him, and you were a gift to him. It’s not your fault that he didn’t realize or accept you as his gift. It’s not your fault that he didn’t stay, he missed out, not you. I am truly sorry that you have to bear his name, you are free to change your name BUT his decisions don’t dictate who you are, they don’t dictate who you will be. They don’t dictate your worth. Having his name doesn’t dictate your worth or your future. I truly think that’s the best answer I can give him.

Redemption.

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Daycare is Godawful expensive!! Most people with children know and agree on that. I previously worked as a General Manager at a corporate gym and received some assistance from the state in paying for my child’s daycare. Even with receiving that assistance I still paid an additional $400/ month for daycare. There were of course other options that would’ve been fully covered  by the state but those were less than satisfactory…that’s another story altogether. About 2 months ago I received notice that my grant for daycare would cease because “I now made too much.” Out of curiosity I wondered what “too much was” so I inquired. I found out “too much” was $2500/ month in which case I realized there was no way I should’ve gotten assistance to begin with; clearly I wasn’t about to apply again. It was at this point I decided (since I was changing careers anyways to drop my son to part time daycare; this addition would allow me to save or divert to other expenses $420/month AND revive my stay at home mom status….even if it’s just part time. 

First I devised plan…you guys will learn that I HAVE to have a plan, it keeps me at calm lolbs! After figuring out which days my son would stay with me I wrote his daily daycare schedule out and inserted various events for he and I to do in the activity block. I figured if we stay on the schedule he’s accustomed to it really couldn’t be that bad. Being frugal, I also decided it would be best to alternate the distance of our activities, one of our activities would be closer to the house while the other would take us further away. 

I didn’t quite have a plan for today but ugh, well….mommy daycare it was lol! My kid, as if he wasn’t exhausted from yesterday woke up at 6:30am bright, early, and ready to go!!! Without a real plan intact Mommy Daycare was off and running! 

6:30 bath

7am breakfast and PBS

8am open play

9am outdoor play

9:30 bored child (yup, your read that right)

9:35 puzzled parent because this whole outdoor thing should’ve lasted until 9:50

9:50 sign-ups for open play at an indoor playground 

10:00 mid morning snack

10:15 head to indoor playground 

10:25 arrive at indoor playground 

10:27 toddler meltdown…not sure if he was upset that we were at an indoor playground and not daycare OR if he was pissed Babyshark went off…I think it’s the latter

10:30-11:45 SUCCESS!!! my child is happy, I’m starting a blog (I’m finishing it 12 hours later and yes I have totally forgotten the purpose of the blog)

11:50 depart indoor playground

12pm LUNCH

…..and dare I say it 12:30 NAP!! Oh thank God we made it!!!

Mama had a 1pm tour about 15 minutes away and thankfully grandma stepped in to sit with her sleeping angel. 

Maybe the point of this blog was to share that days at home with children work best when you keep them WITH other children, that way they keep one another busy. Maybe the point of this blog was to show you that you can do it Mama! After all I legit played Mommy Daycare, and worked from home and it worked itself out. Maybe, the point of the blog is to reassure you that you can be every woman in one day or that you don’t necessarily need a plan to successfully navigate it through the day…nope that wasn’t the point of the blog lol! A plan is very necessary………………………..

Something no one really knew was after spending 9 months as a “Stay at Home Mom” I mildly resented going back to work. On one hand I wanted to go back to work full time to prove to myself that I was more than “just a mom”; I also needed to go back to work full time to make ends meet. On the other hand I wanted to stay at home with my baby boy! I trusted absolutely no one to take care of him the way I did; I didn’t want to work and make money only to give a lump sum to a daycare provider; I would miss our midday adventures and hitting all the children’s spots while everyone else was working; but most of all I didn’t want to miss any of his milestones. The thought of missing his first steps; first words; not being there to potty train…all of those things frightened me. Even the thought of missing his milestones made me feel like a bad mom. 

I spent 8 months away from my baby boy working because that’s what needed to be done…..even more so now that we were on our own. By the beginning of this year what began as a cozy job with understanding management became a real headache. All of a sudden no one understood “working mom” meant mom first; no one understood young babies occasionally get sick which meant mommy needed to take a PTO day; no one understood yup, babies still have quarterly immunizations and unfortunately ER/Urgent Care visits and routine check-ups can’t be lumped into one appointment. No one understood I couldn’t be surprised with random “we need you to stay late days” because well…daycare closed at 6. No one understood yes, daycares take breaks and if no one is able to watch my child than yes, I am forced to stay at home. And certainly NO ONE understood “single mother” aka if I don’t do it no one else will..aka I don’t have help….aka I have to do this parenting thing by myself…aka yes I care about my job but I care about my child more….aka….NO, there really is no one else to help. I was miserable! Frustrated was an understatement and of course because I was frustrated at work I began taking it out on my child. Not physically but I certainly didn’t have the patience required to deal with a toddler. 

One of my extremely close friends knew I was miserable and suggested a job change, something with more of a time flexibility that allowed me to maximize my income while working but still provided time flexibility. She has two amazing children, she’s very rarely missed anything they were doing…heck even practices. She was a BOSS and an INVOLVED mom…she definitely had the lifestyle I wanted for my child…so yup, if she’s suggesting a career change and it allows me to work and be an involved parent let’s do this…..enter Real Estate. 

I’m just starting so I don’t have any highs or lows career wise to share but today I was able to take care of EVERYTHING that needed to be done: I both worked and I was Mommy, involved mommy, fun mommy. So yea, maybe someone was encouraged and inspired by the blog but (only 12hours later) as I remember the real point of the blog, it was to celebrate balance. Today, I was fully able to balance both being a mom and a career woman and it felt great!! Will it always be this easy, no. Will there be some challenges along the way. Absolutely, I’m dealing with a toddler in the throws of the terrible twos not but do I know it’s possible? Absolutely, and that’s what gives me hope, that’s what encourages me to push forward, and for the rest of the weekend (yup, def working the weekend) that’s what I’ll celebrate….knowing that it’s totally possible to be both mom and career woman.

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Freedom?

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Today I took my son to see Sesame Street Road Trip. My mom accompanied us. It was hot as all hell, the lines were long BUT it was free, and most importantly my child enjoyed it (as much as he could between toddler fits about only God knows what). While I could write about the weather, the waiting, and the fun that’s not why I’m writing.

Today was the first time I took my child to a family event, saw other families (both parents) with their children and did NOT get jealous. Today was the first time I took my child to a family event and didn’t feel sad because he “doesn’t know what it’s like to be out with his father.” Today was the first time I took my child to a family event and not only owned what type of family we were but actually enjoyed (minus being hot and sweating balls) it. I mean sure it was refreshing to see the fathers there with their children but I was there, my mom was there…my kid was fine. He was happy. He didn’t miss a beat!

Today my new found acceptance was tested and I didn’t fail. For once in the last 8 months I was “at peace” with what type of family I have. This was so refreshing for me. It was a major victory. My multigenerational family had been there all the time, my mom has always helped out, she’s never felt burdened but today I was happy about her being there. I focused more on being blessed to have her, than feeling cursed or ashamed that it my son’s father wasn’t with the three of us. Today I realized how much of a blessing my son and I were and chose to relish in that.

Acceptance feels great! Acceptance feels like freedom, it’s a new found freedom, this is great. Is it the start of a new beginning? True freedom? This. Is. Acceptance……..and it feels great.

Grief.

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I’ve been a mom 19 months; a single mom 9 months, and yet I only made peace with this maybe 3 weeks ago. Sounds crazy right? How is it that my son’s other 23 chromosomes hasn’t seen him in 9 months, hasn’t helped financially in 6 months, calls….no scratch that texts to check on his child once every 6-8 weeks and I JUST came to terms with what I am?!?

Optimism! Hope! Faith! (All lies)

Turns out when you grew up with someone; have known them more than half your life; had one of the deepest multifaceted relationships with that person; know the cycle of the relationship, and down right love them with every fiber of your being….it takes time to let go of that.

First. I mourned for my child. I mourned the fact that he wouldn’t have a relationship with his dad; mourned the fact that he wouldn’t have a relationship with his father’s family; mourned that my child, my innocent baby boy was flat out rejected. Not only was he rejected, he was kept a secret, and to add insult to injury I was lied to about the rejection!! I was crushed, I was devastated. It honestly felt like I’d failed my son. I never wanted him to be the product of a single parent, never wanted him to know the pain and rejection of being unwanted by your father-a parent who’s supposed to love you, protect you, and take care of you….here he was going through the same thing I went through. What am I supposed to tell him when he gets older and asks about a father? How do ai look him in the eyes and tell him that by no fault of his own his father decided not to be in his life? How do I shield him from thinking “his father’s rejection is his own fault?” How do I stop him from thinking “he did something wrong, or that he’s not good enough?” How do I stop him from feeling unloved. How do I tell him that he was named after his grandfather and father who originally was all in? How do I expect him to want to carry the name of the man who rejected him? Oh. My. God….how could I do that to him? SHAME. GUILT. FEAR. PAIN. IMMENSE PAIN. DEATH. I honestly don’t know how long it took me to mourn all of this. Realistically I’m not sure this part is completely over. My son can’t talk, can’t ask questions, right now has no concept of missing anything so I’m sure when these discussions come about this place will be revisited…but for now it’s dead.

Secondly I mourned the death of my future with this man. He and I dated since the age of 14. If we weren’t dating we were best friends. We’ve weathered sick parents, the death of grandparents and other family members. We weathered terrible relationships, broken engagements, multiple job and career changes. We’ve weathered one unplanned child (and not the one we have jointly), we’ve managed a long distance relationship, jailed siblings. We’ve shared our dreams with one another, encouraged each other, supported one another as we pursued said dreams. We’ve been one another’s peace, rational voice, stress reliever, one another’s biggest challenge. We were discussing marriage, looking for houses, financial planning together, discussing our future children then I have our first child and all of a sudden he’s not yours?!?! RAGE. ANGER. DISBELIEF. INSANITY. USED. MISLED.STUPID.CRUSHED.SHAME, GUILT. PAIN. Did I mention STUPID? DEAD. How am I supposed to handle this? How do I process this? How am I supposed to ever want to open my heart to anyone again? How am I supposed to trust? How could I not see this coming? How could I be so stupid? What about our future? How can you throw everything away? What about our family? So Im just supposed to grow old alone? You’re rejecting me? You were there when my donor died, I told you how it felt to be rejected by him. You said “I’d never have to feel that pain again.” You LIED TO ME? You’re rejecting me?!?! AND our son?!? I don’t even know how to feel. I’m confused. I. Feel. NUMB.

I can’t even process this the way I need to because there’s a little boy involved and he needs me. If I’m happy, he’s happy. If I’m calm, he’s calm. I have to act like everything is fine lest I transfer these emotions to my child. How the fuck does anyone do this shit?

……the mother must bear the pain for the child, he can’t bear this.