Here is the article I turned in for the newspaper we have here at work:
I am the single mother of a handsome little boy who is almost a year old. It’s amazing how much time has passed and yet it seems like just yesterday when he and I first met. Mr. Mikhai was born May 18, 2005 weighing in at 9 lbs 14 oz. Throughout the pregnancy, birth and so far, this first year of his life, I have been blessed with extraordinary help from my family. I have been a single “mother” almost since the day I found out I was going to be a mother. The first several months after Stanley was born were the hardest. With the realization that I was ultimately responsible for the care of this infant, and there wasn’t a partner/boyfriend/husband to provide any help and/or comfort, came the depression. My mom, step-dad and all my sisters have been wonderfully helpful, but there is only so much they can do to help me nurse an infant who wants more than I can provide. Just days after he was born we were out at a restaurant and I was trying to nurse. I was getting upset because I wasn’t able to feed him properly. I wondered what was wrong with me that I couldn’t even get this most naturally instinctive act down. Coming back to work and trying to continue to nurse didn’t help either. I was getting overwhelmed with the effort it took to try to provide for my son. I emphasize "try". After two weeks of enormous effort and very little to show for it, I just had to stop. I still wonder to this day if there is something wrong with me when I hear someone talk about how great things are going with their nursing, but slowly as the days go on, I realize that my son was just too big for me to exclusively nurse. It has taken some time, but I’ve (mostly) been able to put that behind me and actually enjoy my son for the wonder that he is.
Our typical weekday:
My day usually has not ended from the night before, because he is still not sleeping through the night. So when my younger sister comes in to wake me up around 5:00 am, I have probably already been up two or three times since “bed time” of the night before. Stanley and I share a bedroom and most of the time he is still sleeping when I get up, so more often than not I am getting dressed in the dark. If he stays asleep then I can go about my morning getting ready and just put him in the car to go to Ms. Tee’s. Other days he tries his hardest to make things difficult. Stanley has this uncanny ability to wake up as soon as I do so that I have to try to take care of him while I am trying to get dressed in the morning. This morning was one of those mornings that would have been wonderful to have a partner to help out. I was unable to put him down for more than a few seconds without him crying and trying to crawl up my legs. I really think that since I have started my second job, he is needing to make sure that I am still there, but it’s like getting dressed while holding a squirmy, wormy 25-30 pound weight on your hip. It doesn’t work very well and I’m always conscious of the fact that I live with my parents and little sister and that he can get rather loud when he cries.
He is just a baby in age, but he doesn’t like to be treated like one. More times than I can count, I have picked him up in the evening and Ms. Tee has told me of something else that he did that is not normal for a baby his age. I envy the mothers that can go home to a husband and laugh with them over the antics of their child or gush with pride at their latest accomplishment. My mother is my partner in that aspect, but it’s different with her…she doesn’t have the same sense of pride as I do, as a parent does. Many times I have gotten in the car and said, “He’s just so adorable.” My mother will laugh and say, “You only say that because you’re mom.”
Stanley is usually asleep when I drop him off in the morning, so I just kiss his head and tell him I love him and say a silent prayer that nothing will happen to prevent me from seeing him in the evening. Then I head to work so that I am able to provide for him.
Going home is the greatest joy for me. When I walk into Ms. Tee’s house and he turns around to realize that his mommy is there and his face lights up with excitement and he can’t wait to get to me…that’s when all the hours at work away from him are worth it.
Depending on how exhausting his day was with the other kids, he will take a nap almost as soon as we get home. Once he wakes up, we eat dinner, play and give him a bath if he needs it. I think my favorite part of the day is feeling him go to sleep in my arms. If I am home and it is time for bed, there is no one else for him…he wants his “mum”. I am his comfort, and he is my comfort. I am the sole recipient of that baby’s affections. He loves his Grama and Papa for sure, but that love is nothing compared to what I receive and this may sound childish, but I don’t have to share.
The father figure in my life, my step-dad, Mike, is also the father figure in Stanley’s life . He has been the best daddy a girl could ask for. He is the one who, since I was living on my own while I was pregnant, said that I could move back in with him and my mom when I had Stanley. I can’t really say enough good things about this man, and my son sees that. He instinctively reaches out to him to be the father figure. Being the strong, proud man that he is, my dad tries to act all gruff and unemotional about Stanley, but everyone knows my son has that man wrapped around his little finger and would do anything in his power for him.
One of my greatest fears is that I’m not doing things right. Am I making sure that he has the right nutrition, is he getting enough sleep, am I providing the right kind of stimulation for his mind, are we doing the correct type of activities to help with his physical development?
In the hours before dawn while you toss and turn
I’m slow to rise and my eyes start to burn
I need to sleep, but I tend to you instead
I glance down at you and thoughts fill my head
Thoughts of your smile and of your scowl
Thoughts of your laugh and of your howl
You’re such a sweet boy with an expressive face
I look at you again and my heart starts to race
A profound sense of awe sweeps over me
For a moment there, I cannot see
I’m shocked to my core with feelings of love
Every day I must thank the Lord above
I pick you up and cradle you in my arms
I nuzzle your soft cheeks and my heart warms
Fear and love war with each other,
As I think that’s my baby and I’m his mother
(end)
Ronny said that she has had several people tell her that i made them cry, a male being one. i know i cry every time, but that's me and i've lived this.
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