Sunday, March 17, 2013

Taking Turns

It's your turn, I say to my husband as I hand him our crying son.

It's not that I don't like my baby, it's just that I feel at a complete loss for what to do. No, scratch that. I'm not necessarily at a loss. I have ideas for what may work, but THEY DON'T FUCKING WORK. I've changed his diaper, I've put him to the breast, I've walked with him, I've put him in his swing, I've worn him in my carrier, I've taken his clothes off, I've put his clothes back on, I've taken a bath with him...

I JUST DON'T KNOW WHAT HE NEEDS. 

And it's pissing me off. It's making me feel inferior and stupid and worthless. 

I want him to tell me what he needs, what he wants. WHY CAN'T HE JUST TELL ME?

I hear him crying, still, in my husband's arms. We're tired. We're losing patience. It feels like he's winning whatever game we're playing. 

My husband puts him down in the swing, again, and yet still he cries (the baby, people). My husband walks away. He needs a break. I get it. But instead of letting him cry, I need to get him. I walk to the swing and my husband asks what I'm doing; I'm getting our son, I say. But you wanted a break; it's okay if he cries, he says. 

I know. I know. 

But I can't let him just sit there and cry, I think. I wouldn't want to sit there and cry by myself. I'd want to be held, soothed, comforted. 

So I pick him up.

He stops and looks at me, and we're both at a loss for words. It's quiet and we're both still, just looking into each other's eyes...

And he starts to cry, but this time I just hold him without searching for answers. I hold him, and I let him be, just rocking and walking, hushing and humming. We're chest to chest and just letting him be feels right. I'm ready to hold whatever it is he gives me- his tiredness, his loneliness, his tears. Not only today but for always. 

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