As with any other divorce and a child involved, mine is no different. Visitations are going to happen. Time away from mommy is going to happen.
This is important, I tell myself over and over.
Important for him to discover and uncover his relationship, of which I’m not present.
However I need to support it for Holden’s sake. For his exploration, for his growing up. For his wonderment.
Now that Holden is a few weeks shy of two years old and is leaps and bounds beyond his infancy, during which the visitations were much more difficult, the anxiety and worry has dwindled but the saddness is ever-present. Saddness and recurring thoughts of never wanting my child to have to go through exactly what he is doing now.
I need to focus in on making these times comfortable and happy for my growing boy. I refer to visitations as adventures, as we sing The Cat in the Hat’s song, “Here we go, go, go, go… on an adventure!” He sits there with a smile on his face, claps his hands, and he knows. He knows he won’t be seeing me all day, every day like he does for 98% of his life. It’s harder on me than him, that’s obvious.
I force myself to remember that he’s fearless.
Last year during this time, I couldn’t make it through a visitation without a little help. I like to think of it now as a medical cocktail while having to juggle depression, anxiety disorder, and absolutely no sleep.
Thoughts going into this week’s visitation played over in my mind about needing some help. It was the first week-long visitation, the big black cloud hovering in the distance that seemed to enhance and draw closer as the months passed leading up to December. As strong as I claim to be now, I know I still need help, and I’m even stronger because I know it’s okay to accept help. But the help needed is no longer medication, just support. Support, love, encouragement. An even tastier cocktail.
A much, much better place to be in. For myself, for Holden, and for everyone else.