Special Days

Today is one of those “special” days, where 85% of Wyatt’s waking time is spent crying (you may think I exaggerate here, but I assure you, 85% is exactly what I mean). This, of course, means 15% is sheer bliss for both of us, but given how little the boy sleeps, it is none-the-less a very difficult day in our little apartment.

This son of ours is doing a number on me. I just always imagined (and doesn’t everyone?) having a wonderfully mellow baby…one that, if at all upset, would cease his crying the instant he found himself in my arms. Instead, we were gifted with a child that remains largely inconsolable, wreaking havoc on my confidence as a mother, and even causing me to question my ability to empathize with him as a fellow human being. You see, at some point, I just “tune out.” As a means of survival (I’ve justified), when Wyatt is in the throws of certain unknown angst, my emotional self walks out -- escapes. This is the time when I begin to wonder if I’m maternally inept. I start to remember all the days I steal glances at universities for advanced degrees I’m interested in, or for career opportunities, as if those things were a present option for me. I ponder whether or not I might I be the type better suited for the world outside the home… Then I read and take great comfort in Anne Lamott’s book, Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son’s First Year. A friend passed this on to me upon finding out I was pregnant, unaware of how apropos it would prove to be. The book has been a God-send, truly.

Those days that I don’t turn to stone, it seems, I do absolutely the opposite and cry almost as hard and as long as he does. Hours of this during the weekdays drain me, and the fact that it all takes place in a space as big as my thumbnail doesn’t help. For all the things I will miss about Los Angeles, I am desperately ready to have some space – space for both Wyatt and I to breathe, and perhaps to cry.

All that said, let me also say how much I am encouraged during my days by this little ray of light. His smiles (!) and new ‘verbal’ banter with me make it invariably worthwhile.

I thank God for the rain today, the sound of which has provided me with much needed peace this morning, and I thank Him for the sunshine this afternoon, bringing a little hope for the evening hours to come.

~Anna