Please don’t tell me I’m fortunate to have a night free from my child. Among the myriad of remarks that have irked me since I transitioned into the role of a single, co-parenting mom, this one takes the cake for insensitivity.
Don’t label my time away from my child as a break. While you may envision me relishing an evening of freedom, I’m actually grappling with the reality of returning to an empty house. I’m trying to make the most of my kidless hours, all the while dreading the fact that for the next 15 years, this will be my normal.
Don’t suggest that sharing parenting responsibilities equates to built-in babysitting. What 50/50 custody truly offers me is an equal share of guilt and anxiety. I constantly worry about what my three-year-old is experiencing, whether she’s gone to bed on time, or if she’s had her dinner and brushed her teeth. It means waking up without her presence, and avoiding the sight of her empty room, complete with untouched toys and an unmade bed. It means nights spent missing the warmth of our bedtime stories together, only to awaken in the middle of the night, convinced I heard her cry, only to find silence.
Please don’t say I’m lucky to catch up on sleep during her father’s nights. The truth is, I would trade every peaceful night for the chance to be awakened by my daughter after a bad dream or to share sleepy cuddles and breakfast struggles. I’d rather not endure the void left by her absence.
Don’t tell me I’m fortunate for splitting up while my child is still young. Sure, she may not remember these early days, but I will. I’ll remember the heartache of handing over my little one to someone who resented me, knowing she couldn’t even call me if she needed to. I’ll remember the ache of returning home from social outings to an empty house, and the difficulty of potty training when I only have her part-time, hoping her father will maintain the same routines. I’ll remember the longing for one last goodnight from my ex, just to say “I love you to the moon.”
Don’t say I’m lucky to have the freedom to do things “my way” in my home. Have you ever navigated parenting alone? Have you ever tried to get a child ready for school while preparing for an important career meeting? Just when you find a method that works for your child, it feels like it’s all unraveled in a single weekend spent with their other parent.
I didn’t get lucky; I ended up divorced. Just like you, I once envisioned a beautiful future filled with love and togetherness. I had a lovely wedding and shared dreams of a family with someone I adored. Just like you, I relished moments filled with laughter, date nights, and a partner to lean on when motherhood felt overwhelming. But now, I only get to experience these joys half the time.
If you’re interested in exploring additional resources on parenting and family dynamics, check out this article for insights on various aspects of family planning. And for those looking for options in home insemination, you may find this kit beneficial. For more insights on navigating co-parenting and family life, visit Modern Family Blog.
In summary, please refrain from labeling my situation as lucky. My experience is one defined by loss, and the complexities of shared parenting are far from a blessing.