I wish I could say mothering came
naturally and that everything fell into place, but it did not. I cried every time my sweet little baby boy
went to eat because the pain of it was almost more than I could bear. I tried to be patient and fight through it,
but when he would break his latch and I would be bleeding and chapped, I knew I
needed help. Josh lovingly persuaded me
I was not failing if we supplemented and that this was for both my benefit and
our sons. I agreed. I felt relieved and guilty when my husband
fed our son, but also saw the beauty in this moment, this experience. In just a week, Josh would have to return to
his deployment in Afghanistan and he needed every moment possible to bond with
his son. My full tender breasts ached,
but my heart was calmed as the two men in my life looked each other in the
eye. There was no doubting Josh loved
the little man he carried around and cuddled and the light in his eyes shone so
bright with pride as he took easily to the duties I struggled with.
Josh always jumped up whenever Dorian
began his little newborn whimper, talking and singing to him as he changed his
diaper and fed him. I on the other hand
slowly pulled myself in and out of bed as I recovered from the c-section and
cried as I breastfed on my sore tender breasts.
When Dorian cried I would go through the list: diaper, feeding, comfort,
etc but felt like a failure when for years I had been told each had their own
cry and every little peep sounded the same to me. I hurt. I was exhausted and I
was terrified of Josh leaving me in just a matter of days. In only a couple days, I would be the only
thing this sweet precious little baby had and I already felt like I was failing
him. Josh assured me he felt just as
lost, but in my eyes he seemed to know exactly what he was doing and I just
didn’t know how I was supposed to be a single parent when all I had ever wanted
was all three of us together, forever.
Josh was supportive and attentive
as I healed and took every moment he could holding the child we fought so hard
and so long for. Life was as close to
perfect as I could imagine when the three of us would lie in bed against one
another. This was the dream I had so
long wished for, but I knew I was about to wake up as each and every hour spent
together, was also a countdown until Josh boarded the plane that would take him
away from us for the next six months.
I breastfed when I could and slept
when I could; other than that, our entire existence was this sweet little
boy. I began feeling more comfortable
with diapers, feeding and outings. I no
longer was terrified of hurting my small precious baby when I changed his
clothes or moved him around and slowly with each minute the word mom started to
sink in. When it finally came time to
take Josh to the airport I was still terrified, but no longer lost. My heart heaved itself open knowing I would
once again have to separate from the person I loved with all my heart. I felt like I was losing my family and after
the close call josh had already had, I felt like I was never going to see him
again. I cried and kissed him in the
airport, devastated to be torn apart yet again.
Clinging to him with my arms around his neck I promised pictures and
videos and begged him to try and call more; and then he left us standing there,
going up the escalators he had bound down to greet me just two weeks
before. Dorian was 10 days old.
I was blessed to have my mom once
again join me so that even on the day Josh departed, I wasn’t truly alone,
although I did feel it as my baby continued to cry hysterically after every
feeding. I still felt like I was
failing. I tried breast milk, and three
different types of formula thinking maybe he was allergic to something, maybe
he just wasn’t getting enough, maybe I wasn’t burping him enough. The list of possibilities was endless. Cry as
he did, Dorian was still a good baby. He
slept well and easily and even at an early age was a face full of smiles. Every moment I was awake, was for and because
of him. I felt this new sense of
empowerment that took hold as I held this little miracle in my arms. I felt like I finally had received my calling
in life and that the three years of brutal infertility was all meant to lead up
to this sweet precious gift. The title
mom still threw me for a loop and didn’t seem real, but the baby in my arms was
the most real thing I had ever felt or experienced and I knew there was nothing
I would not do for this child.
Mom talked me into traveling home
with her for a couple of months while I continued to adjust to being a “single
mom.” Now I didn’t really like using
this term as I knew in fact, I was not a single mother. I had a husband who loved me and whom I loved
very much and had the blessing of his paycheck to support me and our child, but
I was raising our child on my own along with the continual stressors of my
husband’s safety. So I never claimed to
be a single mom, but certainly felt the title as I cried myself asleep at night
from exhaustion and loneliness.
While I lived with my parents I
quickly learned that life pre-child was very different than life with
child. I leaned what a burden it was to
get out the door, all the while trying to carry half your household with you
when going anywhere for fear you might need it.
I began distinguishing the different cries and became more and more
concerned as it was obvious Dorian was experiencing pain every time he
ate. Every diaper was a blow out and
liquid. I went off all dairy and gluten. Every time I had taken him in for a well baby
and mentioned it, it was always brushed aside as reflux. However, when Dorian’s eczema broke out all
over his face and scalp, I knew there was more to it. As I suffer from eczema as well, I knew his
flare up was due to an allergy and took him in yet again to the doctor,
demanding my fears be heard this time.
The doctor once again brought up reflux and put him on medication, but
after over a week without improvement I took him in yet again. I was then prescribed, a very expensive,
predigested formula. After three months
of my poor baby screaming every time he ate, we finally figured out he had a
protein allergy and was just unable to break down the proteins in certain
foods. Dorian turned into a whole new
baby now that he no longer had to writhe in pain. I no longer slept sitting up with him on my
lap, bouncing for hours, just so he could get a couple of hours of uninterrupted
sleep. I no longer sang myself hoarse cradling
him, bouncing him trying to distract him from the pain. I no longer had to buy four or five formulas,
trying them all, while still pumping to keep my breast milk up, just in case I
could breast feed. I never realized how
rough it had really been until he no longer had to experience the pain. Again, I felt as if I had failed him those
first three months as I should have known for sure something was wrong, or
pushed the doctors more than I had earlier on, but in the end my son and I
bonded over the difficulty and it was proof there was nothing for this child I
would not do.
Unfortunately, Dorian couldn’t
digest my breast milk and after only feeding him off and on for three months, I
slowly began to dry up. I was sad and disappointed
that it was not an experience I really was able to take part in as it had
always been something I wanted with all of my heart. I did, however, see the benefits of it as my
son blossomed into a cooing, explorative little baby.
Soon after Dorian’s allergy was
diagnosed, I felt the need to return home to Tennessee. Although being on my own still scared me, I
had a new confidence and looked forward to setting up house and schedule as now
there were only three months left until Josh returned home. I sent packages almost weekly with Dorian’s
foot prints all over them. Filling them
up with snacks and treats I knew he would enjoy. I tried my best to give him all the comforts
from home I could send him, including pictures and videos, but we were both
very aware he was missing it all. I
still only heard from Josh once a week or every couple of days, making the
waiting period stretch out as I counted the days between each call. It took all my strength to just make it
through Christmas, as this was the very first Christmas with our son and my
husband and Dorian’s father was on the front lines of a war zone. Josh stayed focused though, as that is how he
said he kept from missing us, but it was obvious there was a huge disconnect as
I now had the new role of mother and Josh had the role of soldier. He admitted the guilt he felt because he
loved his son with all of his heart, but the pictures and videos were just a
reminder to him that he didn’t know the baby I held in my arms.
I on the other hand, knew
everything there was to know about Dorian and embraced my role and my
motherhood. With this new confidence I
decided I was ready to make the two day car drive back to Tennessee, felling
confident I could make the long distance trip on my own with a three month
old. Only twenty miles into the long
road trip did I realize how grossly over confidant I had been. Sadly, at only three months old, Dorian had
already hit the separation anxiety stage, meaning when he couldn’t see me, he
cried and screamed. We stopped often,
fed often and I sang and played music, talking to him the whole time, trying my
best to reassure him I was still there, but it was a long two days as I learned
what it was to stop at McDonalds just to get warm water for bottles or making
twenty trips to my car once I reached the hotel as I had luggage in one hand
and a baby in the other. We accomplished
and survived it though and as difficult as it was, I took pride in myself for
all that I had grown and accomplished. I
wished, as always, with all my heart that Josh could be there with us, but I
was learning I could do this on my own and I felt I was doing a pretty good job
of it as well. I sometimes looked back
at the fear I had when I first became a mother and realized motherhood doesn’t
come naturally as people imply. I comes
with work and time and is something you grow into and I made sure every day I
felt I had grown into just a little more.
Once back home, I was surprised at
how easily life became. Being at home
with the baby all day felt natural and although tired, I was more fulfilled
than I had ever felt before. I reveled
in every new action or sound Dorian made and began dieting and losing weight to
feel better about myself and hopefully surprise my husband with when he
returned home. I was edified, happy, and
every day more in love with my child. We
played on the floor for hours, and often took trips to local stores to walk
around. I met a new friend and we began
walking on a regular basis. Everything in my life was good, except for the fact
that my husband was not there to share it with me.
It was about this time that the
Family Readiness Group (FRG) began mandatory meetings on what to expect when
our soldiers returned home. They
stressed over and over again the importance of reintegration and how difficult
it would be for our spouses to enter into society again. They touched on the needed space and time we
needed to give them as they learned essentially how to be civilians when not at
work. They then went on to share all the
horrors of war and the side effects that affected many men and women who dealt
with the things our spouses had. They
gave signs and symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and depression
and all the things we would want to keep an eye out for. They promised support and help, and even
though the topic was scary, there seemed to be a lot of hope. There was always a tiny fear and voice in
the back of my mind that since Josh had been wounded he might struggle with this,
but I pushed it away, only wanted back the man I married. Anything that could or would come up, we
could deal with it. We loved each other,
right?
The closer Josh’s arrival home
became, the slower time crept by and finally I received the automated call I
had been waiting a year for: I finally knew when my soldier would be coming
home. Like any proud Army wife, I went
above and beyond for the homecoming. I
even had a special shirt made for Dorian to wear that said, “Move out of my
way, I am here to pick up my daddy.” I bought a large banner and attached it to
our balcony, expressing the love and pride we had for our hero. I dressed up in a new outfit that I felt sexy
in, showing off the twenty five pounds I had lost. I was nothing short of giddy as I waited in
anticipation for our family to finally be reunited. After nearly two years of being apart due to
basic, AIT, and deployment, I was finally getting my husband back and Dorian
was finally going to see what life with a dad was like.
I did have fears about Josh having
to jump into being a dad to a six month old baby and was even a little
concerned about how Dorian would accept his father as all he knew was me. I knew with time, love and patience though,
all would finally be right and nothing in the world could knock the smile off
my face as the days turned into hours.
