My life was better before. When exactly was “before” though? And better how? I’m not sure, maybe. But I feel like right now everything sucks really, really bad. I am still constantly overwhelmed by the idea that I technically do not live with my son. At this point it hardly matters, because he’s with me for roughly 9 of the 12 hours that he’s awake each day. But that won’t always be true.
Once he’s a little older and has somewhere to be, like if he goes to some kind of day care or kindergarten, I’ll be missing out. I already miss out on giving him baths most of the time, which was one of my favorite things to do when I was living there. I’m not there to see him freaking out with his cool toys in the evening. I’m not able to go peep on him in his crib while he sleeps, which is the cutest thing ever. I miss all of it, and the whole thing just crushes me. I try to tell myself over and over that I did the right thing, but that doesn’t make this any easier. I constantly look ahead to times when he fully understands the situation and wants me there. And when he needs me and doesn’t even know it. I want to be with him, for him. And for me.
I felt such a strong bond with him when he was a small baby, and the idea of losing that is just devastating. It’s an unfortunate situation, and there’s no good answer. It happens to tons of people everywhere, and the world goes on. But I want his world to include a very present, hands-on Father. I really hope that can be possible.