I really thought a lot about whether I would post this or not. I’ve had very mixed feelings about my first Mother’s Day as a mom. Little Man has been calling us Mommy and Daddy pretty consistently for the past few weeks. And seems content and settled. Mr. Man continues to call us Sara and Jonathan, and has been struggling for the past six weeks. His behaviours have ramped up and we have been struggling as a family.
This morning the alarm went off and we turned on the video monitor to see if the kids were still asleep. We couldn’t see Mr. Man at all in the camera so Jonathan got up to check and see if he needed help in the bathroom.
He wasn’t in the bathroom.
Or in his brother’s room.
Jonathan walked down the stairs in time to see two RCMP cars pulling up in front of our house.
Mr. Man had gotten up, put on his Spider-Man sneakers, and left through the side door which we had forgotten to chain.
A woman had spotted him roaming down the road and called it in. He was about a kilometre from home on a busy road. At 6:30 in the morning. Wearing his pajamas.
I cannot even put in to words how we are feeling right now. How I feel like the worst possible mother. How didn’t I hear him? Did we miss putting the chain across? How is it that life is so terrible in our home that he wants to leave that badly?
I know this is something children do. The RCMP officers were kind and non-judgmental. (Thank you.) And I know there is more to our story. There is trauma upon trauma in our children’s past. We are using all the tools available to us and we are fighting. Fighting SO HARD to be a family. But it feels like we are taking one step forward and eighteen steps back.
Last Mother’s Day I was imagining the joy I would feel on my first Mother’s Day. I knew being a mother wasn’t going to be easy. I know my brother and I didn’t always make it easy for my mom. (Love you Mom!) But if I’m being completely honest it has not been what I expected. At all. It has been harder than anything I ever imagined. I have cried - sobbed - more in the last six months than I ever imagined. I have dreaded waking up in the morning, wondering what the day will hold. Wondering if I am strong enough, or if this is the day I will break.
To all those mamas fighting battles, battles they are hiding for fear of feeling like a failure or for some other reason, please consider this a hug. A silent, “I hear you.”
I will never forget my first Mother’s Day.
