my small person
aside: Getting this out there is really hard for me. I've been sitting on this entry for almost a month now. I'm not exactly sure why. But I might as well get it out there.
I love my daughter. I love my daughter more than just about anything in this world. When she looks at me and tells me she loves me, or she cuddles up with me ... I know I've arrived. And at those times, all is right with the world.
But at the same time, I fear I'm becoming resentful of her.
I'm not sure Gina and I -- rhianwyn -- had a very stable relationship before she came along. We'd been together less than a year when she got pregnant; it wasn't supposed to happen, so we weren't as careful as we might have been. Gina was supposed to need years of intensive hormone therapy before she could even think of getting pregnant. But it's amazing what happens when one starts being happy.
Somewhat offhandedly, we'd discussed the steps we'd take if she happened to get pregnant. Of course, we took the facile way out of that little conundrum: She'd have an abortion, and that was that. It didn't really mean anything to me at the time.
And of course the Universe laughed at us, in our audacity. Gina thought she was anemic, so she went to the doctor. Surprise! No anemia! She doesn't even remember the drive home. She came home a wreck. Eventually I figured it out. And through the tears, Gina choke out "it's okay ... I'll do it. What we talked about ..."
I stared at her. And something in me snapped. "No," I said, with more conviction than I felt -- more conviction that I'd said anything with, up to that point. I don't know why I did it, but I told her to not get an abortion, that we'd go through with it.
In retrospect ... in retrospect, I wonder if I'd have made a different decision, if I knew then what I know now.
Oh, having a child has been good for me, there's no doubt about that. I'm more patient than I've ever been. Up until a short while ago, I'd not gotten a traffic ticket in eight years (and I used to get at least 2-3 a year). I've experienced a lot of joy that Ariann has been directly responsible for. But now she's seven years old, she's really starting to become her own person ... and I'm afraid that I'm starting to resent her.
I think I may be starting to resent Ariann because she's taking attention away from me. She's done that ever since she got here. She's always been a fairly demanding child. Of course I have no prior experience with such things. But I put up with it -- I focused on her too, when she was tiny. I mean, she didn't know how to do anything yet, and I was forgiving. But now it's seven years later. I've put up with this quite a lot. I'm not getting the attention I want, the mothering I never got. She's still getting it all.
I don't know how to ask for what I want. I'm afraid that doing so would cause rhianwyn to be less of a mother, a role which she clearly enjoys. I never thought I would ever do this, but I seem to be placing others' needs above my own. Maybe I don't have the strength to admit I'm not much of a "family man," like I thought I was.
Perhaps you now see part of the reason I am so conflicted.
I love my daughter. I love my daughter more than just about anything in this world. When she looks at me and tells me she loves me, or she cuddles up with me ... I know I've arrived. And at those times, all is right with the world.
But at the same time, I fear I'm becoming resentful of her.
I'm not sure Gina and I -- rhianwyn -- had a very stable relationship before she came along. We'd been together less than a year when she got pregnant; it wasn't supposed to happen, so we weren't as careful as we might have been. Gina was supposed to need years of intensive hormone therapy before she could even think of getting pregnant. But it's amazing what happens when one starts being happy.
Somewhat offhandedly, we'd discussed the steps we'd take if she happened to get pregnant. Of course, we took the facile way out of that little conundrum: She'd have an abortion, and that was that. It didn't really mean anything to me at the time.
And of course the Universe laughed at us, in our audacity. Gina thought she was anemic, so she went to the doctor. Surprise! No anemia! She doesn't even remember the drive home. She came home a wreck. Eventually I figured it out. And through the tears, Gina choke out "it's okay ... I'll do it. What we talked about ..."
I stared at her. And something in me snapped. "No," I said, with more conviction than I felt -- more conviction that I'd said anything with, up to that point. I don't know why I did it, but I told her to not get an abortion, that we'd go through with it.
In retrospect ... in retrospect, I wonder if I'd have made a different decision, if I knew then what I know now.
Oh, having a child has been good for me, there's no doubt about that. I'm more patient than I've ever been. Up until a short while ago, I'd not gotten a traffic ticket in eight years (and I used to get at least 2-3 a year). I've experienced a lot of joy that Ariann has been directly responsible for. But now she's seven years old, she's really starting to become her own person ... and I'm afraid that I'm starting to resent her.
I think I may be starting to resent Ariann because she's taking attention away from me. She's done that ever since she got here. She's always been a fairly demanding child. Of course I have no prior experience with such things. But I put up with it -- I focused on her too, when she was tiny. I mean, she didn't know how to do anything yet, and I was forgiving. But now it's seven years later. I've put up with this quite a lot. I'm not getting the attention I want, the mothering I never got. She's still getting it all.
I don't know how to ask for what I want. I'm afraid that doing so would cause rhianwyn to be less of a mother, a role which she clearly enjoys. I never thought I would ever do this, but I seem to be placing others' needs above my own. Maybe I don't have the strength to admit I'm not much of a "family man," like I thought I was.
Perhaps you now see part of the reason I am so conflicted.