April 2, 2018
Today was certainly not my shining moment as a mother. If I’m being honest, I haven’t really had a stellar record in that department, even before my husband fell ill. My friends and I often laughed about our “bad mom” moments—like allowing our kids to indulge in cookies for breakfast or letting them binge-watch TV while we took a breather. I usually felt confident that I was managing the parenting gig well enough.
However, today was different. Tonight was one of those emotionally heavy evenings where I found myself in tears after the kids finally settled down for bed. The day itself had been monotonous. I had allowed the children an excessive amount of screen time, leading to a series of squabbles, and dinner was a struggle as they turned their noses up at “leftovers, again,” as my daughter rightly pointed out.
Despite the dullness, I navigated through our nightly routine, getting everyone washed up and ready for bed. It felt familiar, almost like a ritual I had performed many times during my husband’s late work nights. My daughter needed assistance with her hair, my older son was searching for a specific book, and the youngest was adamantly refusing to wear a diaper—all at once.
After managing to tuck the boys in, my daughter grew impatient with my pace. I rushed to her room, only to have her baby brother follow, causing her to slam the door and set off another wave of crying. Meanwhile, my older son had decided my bed was now his.
After three attempts to return him to his own bed, I finally managed to get into the shower. Exhaustion weighed heavily on me, and I felt a wave of defeat wash over me. Just then, I heard my son’s sweet voice: “Mommy, the wind is blowing outside and there are little twigs coming off the trees.” In that moment, I lost it. “Just go to bed! Somewhere! Anywhere!” I found myself snapping, a stark contrast to the laughter I usually shared with my kids.
I wasn’t having my best day as a mother. Instead of finding humor in my struggles, I was overwhelmed with sadness, missing my husband deeply. I longed for the evenings when we would collapse onto our bed after the kids were asleep, sharing our exhaustion and scrolling through funny videos on our phones, or playfully arguing over who had to go back to put the baby to bed.
Our parenting routine wasn’t glamorous, but it was a partnership. Even during the tough times, I knew that we were a team. I took for granted the countless ways he supported me, even if it was simply coming home for storytime. At the end of those long days, we had each other, sharing those quiet moments of simply being together, staring at the ceiling without needing to talk.
Tonight, after I showered and gathered myself, I returned to the bedroom to find my son nestled in my bed. His sleepy “Hi, Mama” brought a small comfort. “Can I stay here?” he asked. I hesitated, then agreed, “Okay, baby, just this once.”
It’s not the same—oh, it’s not—but for tonight, it’s nice to have some company instead of staring at that blank white ceiling alone. If you’re exploring ways to navigate parenthood or considering starting a family, you might find helpful information on our other blog about options like at-home insemination kits, which you can check out here. For more insights into the journey of parenting, visit this resource here for expert advice. Also, if you’re curious about pregnancy week by week, March of Dimes offers excellent guidance.
In summary, navigating the challenges of parenthood alone after losing a partner is incredibly tough. On days filled with heartache, even moments of connection with your children can provide some solace.