Sometimes I look at old pictures of myself & I get a little sad. Thinking about the freedom or smooth skin I took for granted at times. Replaced with this new body with fat in different places & brand new stretch marks that appear as though aliens landed on me while my baby was incubated inside. Mother’s Day was last weekend and I’ve chosen to learn how to disappear for next year. My plan was to leave all weekend and never give myself a chance to be disappointed. I have a 5 month old baby boy that is exclusively breastfed so that option became null and void quicker than I cared for. Even with my backups of frozen milk, I felt an uneasiness about using my last 3 bags for needed time spent alone. I haven’t had a moment to just be free with my thoughts in months. Each day begins with how & what to do to create the best possible living scenario for my husband & children on every aspect. I hate that my mind won’t ease up. I hate that I feel overwhelmed with ideals of pleasing others at all times. It begins to feel self depreciating.
You don’t get to choose your family. The best thing that you can do to be happy in the life you’ve been given is to raise your kids right. Problem is, you don’t get to choose your kids either. In some supernatural, spiritual realm, I do believe that we have chosen each path & life lived. Regardless of whether I feel I had a choice in the souls surrounding me, it’s clear that they would have been put there either way for a larger meaning.
I got two spiritual readings including a Reiki session while pregnant with Baby Light. All signs proved him to have chosen me & vice versa. It was said that he & I had been together in past lives. We had chosen each other again for this one.
I got alot of Mother’s Day texts from friends & family this year. Many people were congratulating me on Baby Light. I reminded anyone who suggested this was my first Mother’s Day that it technically was my 2nd considering I have been caring for my 15 yr old stepchild for 2 years now. My husband refers to Mother’s Day as a Hallmark holiday. My stepchild has trauma caused from the biological mother.
Every year thus far, Mother’s Day has been terrible. I’m not a huge person on gifts & such. I just like the idea of acknowledgement on a job well done. I could tell weeks in advance I was going to be disappointed so I planned on leaving the house alone. Since that didn’t happen, the day began with it’s normal disappointments. I awoke to a text message from the child asking for something (I didn’t want to be asked for anything). The text message inevitably got to saying Happy Mother’s Day but was watered down by the consistent need for something. My husband awoke and watched Netflix for an hour and a half while I breastfed the baby & tried to lure the little one back to sleep. The hubby never said Happy Mother’s Day. Instead, he asked “What do you want?” I replied “To just leave.” Finally I got the baby to sleep & tried to leave for the shower I rarely get to take.
Twenty mins later amidst a screaming baby, I had Baby Light back in my arms wishing I had put on deodorant before grabbing him. My husband looked at me with his concerned eyes. No comprehension of what was wrong. I planned on just running away possibly coming back in 12 hours, turning off my phone to escape everything. Not enough frozen milk for that plan to work though.
I just never knew. Everyone tells you how difficult your children can be but stepchildren… Stepchildren come with a different type of story. You get this person who you vow to take care of because they belong to your spouse but they come with their own baggage. They come with their own problems. They have their own growing pains that they’ve partly created & partly been inherited. What do you do when everything you’ve done to help them gets looked upon as failure or just isn’t acknowledged? What do you do when there are no longer any words of “thank you” or “hello”?
I stayed home for Mother’s Day & endured another day that didn’t look any different than the disappointment I face in my home everyday. And that’s the thing with mothers, there’s no break. Even in the midst of a breakdown, it’s seen as a failing moment. I told myself that I’d just keep pushing forward anyway. I never know what to expect from my children. I can only hope that one day it’ll all make sense & my work wasn’t in vain. I have my own soul searching to do through my parents’ journey. Putting myself in the shoes of the child, I comprehend the effects that those two people have on me. No stepparent can ever compare to the type of love & pain a child endures from their parents in my point of view. It’s deep seeded issues & unconditional love flow through like lava. No matter how much one may try to write off the psychological, emotional, physical & mental effects that are inherited from parents, it’ll keep coming up until it’s addressed & understood. As much as I comprehend this, it doesn’t make a difference in my household if my husband & stepchild don’t. It becomes a continuing cycle of the same song. “All around the world, the same song.” – Digital Underground. I sing songs to myself to find an easier coping method.
“Sometimes, wish I knew life with no pain, yeah
Wish I held the keys to this game
Sometimes, I pretend cuz I’m afraid to be, afriad to be” – Bilal
Who u gonna be today?