Eight hours long. Eight hours of mediation. Eight hours later and I feel I have signed away Marlowe’s chances of ever having a normal childhood. This is never what I wanted for her. This is everything I did not want for her. I don’t want half of her holidays spent with one family and having to drive her to another family for the rest… cutting her day in half with heartbreaking goodbyes, dropping her off and wishing she could have had more. more time. more love. One family.
Part of me is angry at the overnights coming all too soon. It’s too soon. I’ve been spit up on five times since I’ve walked back in the house– her stomach is not handing the bottle well. I can’t imagine what will happen when he will take her and I can’t supply enough milk for the night and she will be forced to have formula. I struggled so much with breastfeeding. I struggle everyday with so much pain, but I do it despite the pain, just to make sure she will never have formula– but now what? I have no choice. It took me two months to save up enough milk for today– my emergency milk— and now its gone. The amount of work, time, and energy that it will take– the amount of work, time, and energy I don’t have to produce all that milk… I can’t do it. I physically can’t do it. I’m one person raising this baby everyday. I am one person waking up every 3 hours to feed her. I can’t do it. I don’t get a break as is, I don’t get to pump enough as is… &now I will never have enough. Now every 10th of an ounce saved up will go to that weekend he comes down. But there’s nothing I can do. He has his right. He gets his time. I don’t question his ability to take care of her. I know he can do it, I trust he will do the best job he can, I just wish it didn’t have to be this way, especially so soon. I’ve done everything I can, but now I will have no choice. Every three hours in the middle of the night she will wake up screaming and there will be nothing I can do.
Even sitting here typing, I’m crying. I cried a lot. I knew this was something that I was eventually going to have to face. I was ready and prepared, but my god it sucks. It really really sucks. Every other holiday. Every other vacation. Weeks in the summer. Traveling back and forth. Trying to explain why it’s time to leave and why she can’t be with her ‘mama’ that week. Trying to explain why her father will be there one day, one weekend, but wont be there the next.
I’m not saying I would have had an abortion if I knew her father was going to change his mind and come back in the picture, but man, it could have been so much easier if I had known when I had made my decision. Life could have gone so many different directions– and this for sure, is not the way I wanted it to be for Marlowe, my child, my only child, the person I love more than anything in the world. It breaks my heart. It really really breaks my heart.
For the rest of the evening I’m letting everything sink in and I’m allowing myself to cry. I’m doing nothing, but holding my daughter. Tomorrow: I accept that this is the way our life now is and there is nothing I can do to change it. Tomorrow: I accept the fact that I can’t give her the life I want to give her— Tomorrow: I move forward.
Thank you so much for all your kind words. It was so incredibly nice to receive so much support throughout the day. Thank you thank you thank you.