My local chat board of moms and I got into a discussion about this blog post today. In it, a mom posts about feeling like she might love her son just a little more than her daughter. She says, "My daughter was my first baby, and born under not-ideal circumstances (taken away from me right after birth, not brought back for awhile; I was sick a lot in the first several months too and it was hard to care for her). Being my first, I was so uncertain as it was; the extra difficult circumstances made things even worse. There were times I literally couldn’t care for her in the early weeks because I was too sick. We struggled with breastfeeding too. It took us months to bond at all. That’s really a story for another day, though."
My chat board discussed, some haranguing the woman, others attempting more empathy.
In my response, I noted that though I don't yet know what it's like to compare the love I have for two children, I can relate to much of what she says about her difficult beginnings with her first. About how difficult beginnings can impact the formation of the relationship, set the tone for the pattern of interaction and response and feelings.
I said, "I won't recount my entire birth story here, but by the time she was born, I was so out of it that I don't remember much. It was going on two hours before I got to hold her. I didn't have the overwhelming-love-bomb feeling go off. I had anxiety attacks in the hospital. We had problems the first couple of weeks with her weight gain and I was nervous and on-edge the entire time, coupled with feeling like a failure b/c of the birth experience. My sister would say things like, "Is it just like more love than you ever thought you'd feel?" and I didn't know how to answer her because I didn't know what she was talking about.
Having our relationship start off mired in such anxiety set a tone that took a long time to battle through. When left alone with her, my first reaction was always anxiety . . . even though when we actually were alone together, I was always happier and at peace than I had feared I'd be. It took me a solid four-five months before I realized that I was having fun, that I did enjoy being a mom, that being alone with her made me happy, not anxious.
Another mom noted what I said and said it had been much the same way with her and her son, and that her husband is her son's preferred parent, even now, now when it's been months, years since she felt that anxiety and distance. And that maybe my daughter is the daddy's girl she is for much the same reason.
It hurt to read that. To realize that she probably had a point. That it was me, it was my own reaction to her as a newborn, to motherhood, that led her to feel more comfortable with her dad, who has never been anxious around her, who fell into fatherhood as easily and naturally as falling into a pool on a hot summer day. That her tiny, perfect infant instincts could sense my anxiety, my worry, my fog, and that it forever altered the course of our relationship.
It more than hurt. It broke my heart.
I wonder if my daughter will ever know how much I love her. How much my heart thrills to see her smile. How it terrifies me to see her in pain or fear. How much I want to wrap my arms around her and soak her in like an elixir. How much I need her. How comfortable I am around her, now that I've found my footing as a mother, now that I've emerged from the cloud of her birth, of the worry of her newborn days. How much she is a part of me. How my heart explodes when she runs to me and throws her arms around my legs. How she's the first thing I think of when I wake up in the morning, the last thing I think of at night. How much she lights up my life. How much meaning and direction she gives me.
I've noted a couple of times here, I think, how much it can hurt my feelings when she reaches for her dad rather than me, how it's his comfort she seeks when hurt or scared rather than mine. And how I decided one day to stop being hurt by it and to start simply accepting it as part of her, deciding to love her for who she is, not who I wish she was. What a pill to swallow to realize one day that it's very likely my fault that she is this way. That I drove that distance between us.
So what now?
Now nothing. I was the way I was, and I forgive myself for that. I did the best I could. I was the best mom I could be given the circumstances. And now things have changed, gotten better, settled down. And I'll still be the best mom I can be. And she is the way she is, and I love her for that. I love her and accept her and will be the mom she needs, the mom who . . . well, who loves her and accepts her.
I can't change the past but I can control the future. She may be a daddy's girl. She may have been driven to be one by a mom who didn't know what to do, how to act. And all I can do now is continue to give her a mother who also offers comfort and support and unconditional love at any moment of the day for whenever she needs it. For whenever she wants it.
I just hope that one day, even if it's only beneath the surface, subconsciously, like a soul sighing and relaxing into open arms, she realizes it.
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6 comments:
I could've written this post myself. I get it. I didn't have my ideal birth experience either, didn't get to hold my daughter for several hours, didn't have that love-at-first sight feeling when I finally did. I too felt anxious around her at first. Even now that she's an adorable and thriving 15 months old, I still can't sit down and play with her for long periods of time before beginning to think about all the other things I *need* to be doing (i.e. laundry, home organization... even writing, which is a total hobby). The guilt from that is overwhelming, but it's who I am. Still, I wonder if who I am is negatively affecting who she'll be. Or at the very least, the relationship that we'll have.
So, yeah... I get it. What a raw and beautiful post.
That post on Babble is brutally honest and I give that person a lot of credit for writing and posting it. I would be too much a chicken to ever post something like that because I would be afraid of how my daughter would react to that if she came across it when she was older.
Anyway, I think parent preference is just a thing of personality and not a reflection of you. I was a lot like you in that my birth was not ideal and I didn't feel that instant "I'm so in love!" connection when my daughter was first handed to me. My reaction was really one of disconnect and "what the heck am I supposed to do with this little creature now?" We had a lot of trouble with breastfeeding and that lead to me pumping. We had trouble with jaundice and weight gain as well. Couple that with my breastfeeding issues and not birthing in my "ideal" way and you've got one very insecure, scared, and anxious first-time mother. I knew I loved my daughter but I did not feel the joy I expected to feel. So let's add some mommy guilt to everything I was already feeling. I would cry with my daughter, walk away when she started to cry because I knew I would lose my temper, and sometimes I would pray for a magic portal that would allow me to disappear for a few days. It wasn't until she was 4 months old that I started to like being a mother and at 6 months I was loving it. We found a groove and I was finally confident in myself and my parenting abilities.
Now my circumstances are different because I am a stay-at-home mom and my husband works incredibly long hours, but my girl still spends the day asking for dada. I'll say mama to her and she will look at me, smile, and say dada. She will point at pictures of him and look for him. Is she doing this to tease me? Does she really want her dada? Or does she just really like the way dada sounds coming out of her mouth? I don't know but the bottom line is that I feel like crap when all she says is dada because of how much time and energy I have put into growing her, birthing her, and raising her. It's not fair for her to be a daddy's girl at such a young age! But it is what it is and this is just a perfect example of how heartbreaking motherhood can be.
At the end of the day, I think babies are just attracted to what's different. You've said it before: you do all the hard and "mean" work while your husband gets to do all the "fun" work. Who wouldn't love and prefer the person who plays with them and doesn't make them go to bed and eat their veggies? This is just one of those things we have to accept and we have to remind ourselves that this is temporary. As they grow and their personalities change so will their interactions with us. I guarantee your daughter won't be a fan of daddy when it comes time to start dating!
Kinley's birth was wonderful. It was everything I wanted it to be. I had the love-bomb explode, breastfeeding was simple and I was the preferred parent for a very long time. There is a very special and different bond between daddies and their daughters.
Kaleb's birth was the exact opposite. It was scary and painful and surreal. Breastfeeding him has been difficult, add to that another child - there are many days where I'm not sure if I am coming or going... Greg is just as involved with Kaleb as he was with Kinley as a newborn (not at all!) Even with the craziness of the past few months I am still brought to tears by the love I feel for both of my babies. I am trying hard to overcome the guilt of not being able to attend to Kaleb the instant he needs me at times. He will never experience what it is like to be the only child. That makes me sad but he will never know life without a fun rambunctios big sister.
Then there is the guilt and sadness because I am not able to spend as much one:one time with Kinley. I miss life with just her. We had such a great balance. I loved being able to spend time with her, go to lunch get out anytime. Things are not that easy anymore.
I digress, I am so thankful that Kinley is a daddys girl. I think that it was a natural progression to prepare us for another child and I could not imagine it any other way. The bond she and I have is very different and very special. Daddy is fun and entertaining. Mommy is constant and nurturing. Our family dynamic has shifted dramatically but out of that shift came more love.
Please do not think for a second that Alina prefers her daddy because you feel that things were not perfect during her infancy. I was nervous that Greg would never bond with Kinley. He had a hard time bonding with her when she was tiny. Once she was mobile their relationship began to grow. I see the same progression with Kaleb.
Give yourself some credit, your a great momma! I hope that your baby boys birth goes according to your plan and I look forward to the beautiful words you will write to describe your family of four!
Wow~ i cannot believe I had time to type a short story! disregard my typos, grammar and punctuation ;)
I was thinking about this a lot over the weekend, and I disagree with what I posted on the board. I don't think that my son's bond with his father has anything to do with our difficult first months together. Daddy is fun, daddy is lenient. I have to do the difficult things like wake him up in the morning to go to school, force him to get dressed, force him to leave the house. That's what it comes down to. Because even though we had a few difficult months in the beginning, I LOVE my boy, more than anything, and I believe that he could feel that through all the anxiety and nervousness. And there is no doubt in my mind that Alina could feel your love too. Because we're their moms, you know? And Daddy can be fun and Daddy can be the preferred parent for a while, but we're Mom.
I hope I didn't make you feel bad the other day. I didn't mean to speculate at all on your relationship with your daughter - I really was just thinking aloud about my relationship with my son. But scratch what I said on the board anyway, because I was wrong.
A absolutely knows you love her! I had an unpleasant (euphemism of the year) birth experience with Ocho, too. I'm still bitter about it...not at her, but the drs and staff. I think it drove me to be super clingy with her, actually. Anyway, she has phases where J is the favored parent, but it switches. Right now, I'm the favorite. I wouldn't be surprised if I'm chopped liver again tomorrow. I know it hurts, but from all the mommas I've talked to, it's normal. You are a wonderful mother and A knows it and feels it. Watch, TH will be chopped liver soon. ;)
Wow. What a heart wrenching post. I applaud and admire your honest. I do, however, have to disagree with you to an extent. I do not believe that your birth experience and early newborn days have anything to do with Ali being a daddy's girl. I believe that it has more to do with personality and phases than anything. Gender also makes a difference. Psychology books tell you that there is an age where children begin to favor their opposite sex parent more regardless of who their primary caregiver is. And, because I am one myself, I believe that some girls really are just daddy's girls. Don't for an instant question your ability as a mother. Your hesitancy during those first few weeks and months does not reflect who you are as a mother. You are Ali's Mommy and she knows it and she feels the love you have for her.
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