Photo credit @ Lauren Denise Photography
Look details: Ted Baker top (additional link here and similar style here) | Tory Burch handbag (additional links here and here) | Tory Burch shoes (additional links here and here) | Kate Spade earrings (additional links here and here) | Banana Republic pants (additional link here and similar style here) |
It’s late Friday night. I have been staring at my computer screen for the better part of three hours trying to find any words to bring some adequacy to the thoughts and feelings I am attempting to communicate to ya’ll this evening. But, frankly, I am at a loss because there are no words to adequately describe being separated from one’s child. Empty. Gut-wrenching. Agonizing. Stressful. Desolate. Those are all words that come to mind, but still, all fall short of the feeling I am trying to convey through these words. As many of you know through reading any of my prior posts, my daughter has court-ordered visitations with her father. Those visits also include holiday time. And, this year, he gets her over Easter.
Some may read this and think: “How selfish a woman to complain about such a thing, this little girl should have time with her dad too.” And, to those people, I would say: “I agree, she should have a relationship with her father too.” However, that being said, it doesn’t make my feelings any less valid. It doesn’t mean my heart doesn’t ache with every fiber of its existence while my child is away from home. It doesn’t mean I don’t sleep with her blankies, sound machine, and nightlight on while she is away. Or, find myself sleeping on her bedroom floor at 2 am after my internal clock has continued to habitually wake me to check on her throughout the night. It also doesn’t mean (in any way) this little girl I am blessed to have as a daughter wants to go with her dad either. Which, admittedly, is one of the hardest parts of her leaving and being away.
Yesterday, she had two huge melt-downs. On both occasions (once she calmed), with tears in her eyes, she nuzzled up to me with her blankie and said, “Mommy, I no want to go Daddy’s house. ‘Peease’ no make me go.” In those moments, as a mother, I was crushed. Her melt-downs about a car-seat and a bouncy-ball were (in reality) not about a car-seat or bouncy-ball at all. Those melt-downs were about fear, insecurity, and uncertainty of her surroundings, already instinctually knowing she would have to leave home again soon. I wanted and want nothing more than to fix those things for her; to kiss the ‘boo-boos’ of her heart and make them better. But, I can’t fix this for her. As a toddler, she can’t understand I am being forced by a judge to force her to leave home. And, as I’ve said before, she shouldn’t have to. I can try as best as I can to help her through this process, to love her with my whole heart and support her through all the emotional ups and downs. But, even still, it never feels like enough because–at the end of the day–my child still hurts.
Being separated from one another on Easter isn’t hard because of the egg hunts, or bunny photos, or pastel dresses. The traditions are just things. It is stuff. Events. In hindsight, they don’t matter much in the grand scheme of things. Heck, I would take having my daughter being gone every holiday on the calendar if that meant I was able to have her every other day of the year. It’s the time away that is a like a knife to my chest. Being separated on Easter is hard because every separation is hard. And, with it being a time for family and togetherness, a holiday separation is a bigger reminder of the emptiness felt while she is away and the hurt my child feels that I am unable to fix for her.
So, to those of you who are blessed to have your children tucked in bed at home tonight, give them an extra kiss and snuggle. To those of you who are able to empathize with the emptiness I feel, please know you are not alone and you have someone saying an extra prayer for you this starry night.
Hugs and Kisses to all, xoxo