‘It’s bedtime!’ I call out. He quickly grabs his blanket and runs upstairs to his dad’s office expecting his dad to put him to sleep. Confused, he searches the entire house yelling “daddy, daddy.” I try to explain to my two year old that he’s not home right now and mama will be putting him to bed but my words go unnoticed as he continues his search throughout the house.
Finally, I convince him to follow me to his room and we start his bedtime routine. After five books, a little more than we usually do, he settles into bed and I lay next to him, waiting for him to doze off. Ten minutes later, he gets up, heads to the door and looks for his dad calling out “daddy, daddy.”
I wait, let him play a little more and finally get him back to bed. Ten minutes later, he is back to the door and continues his search for his father.
Two hours passed, he is still fighting his sleep, trying to stay awake just to wait for his dad to come home. When he finally surrenders to rest, I lay next to him in tears feeling defeated and unwanted.
I want to say this is the first time this has happened. But my son won’t let me put him to bed for over six months now. Every time I try, he cries for his dad. And every time, I feel pushed away, rejected, and heart broken.
…
When our son was born, my first thought when I met him was ‘wow, you look so much like your dad!’ I think back to that memory as I write this because from as early as the moment he was born, he was always a daddy’s boy.
I spent most hours of the day with him while my husband left for work. I was waiting for that bond everyone talks about between child and mom. The ones only the mom gets as a result of being together all day. Where he only wants ‘Mama’ and clings to me for dear life. But he was always happier when he saw his dad come home or a little more sad when his dad left.
It left me questioning why my son didn’t love me as much as he loved his dad. What was I doing wrong?
When I brought it up to friends and family, they would console me by explaining that my husband is away a lot so he gets excited to see him and he was just sick of being with me all day. Or they would say don’t worry as they get older all sons become a mama’s boy.
Two years later and he is still obsessed with his dad.
When you have a baby, the last thing you worry about is whether your child will love you back. You read about the natural bond between mother and child. The special intimacy only moms have the privilege of experiencing because we carry them in our body for nine months and we breast feed them after they’re born. And yet, as early as a year old I couldn’t establish that level of connection with my son.
I was home for a year with him, I am hands on with him, I engage in play and activities with him, I read him books, I take him to exciting places, I cuddle and hug him, I constantly tell him how much I love him.
What separates me from his dad? Why doesn’t he show me the same kind of affection he does with his dad?
I’ve searched Reddit boards and mom forums for answers. All I found were dads who were in the exact situation I was. This of course did not help and only made me feel even more miserable.
When he pushes me further away, all I want to do is push him away too. As a defence mechanism, I’m tempted to retaliate by telling myself, if he doesn’t want to be with me then I don’t want to be with him either. But it hurts because I do. And the only reason I have the urge to respond this way is because I don’t know if I can handle the pain of constantly being rejected by my own son.
I look forward to the day when our relationship grows to a different level. Where you will call out for me and where your smile gets brighter when you see me. If that day never comes, that’s okay too. The privilege of being your mom is enough.
…
To the only boy who broke my heart,
I love seeing the wonder in your eyes. Always fascinated by the same aquarium we visit in the library every week, as you hold onto your dad’s hand and say “fish, fish.”
I appreciate your curiosity as you silently flip through the pages of a new book then run to your dad and say “book, read.”
I am invigorated by your energy as I watch you and your dad wrestle on the bed, listening to the squeals of screams and laughter.
I admire you when I find you asleep on our bed after you’ve crawled into our bed in the middle of the night just to be next to your dad.
As much as it hurts me to be the bystander in the bond you’ve created with your dad, I will forever be here for you. I will love every part of your being and treasure whatever memories you will share with me.
Love,
Mama
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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 The Lack of Gentle Platonic Touch in Men’s Lives is a Killer |
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Photo credit: Seif Eddin Khayat on Unsplash
