I do not want anyone who checks in on my blog to think I only write about the positive, uplifting and cheery aspects of being a mommy. Tonight, I sit down to craft a post after almost two weeks of not having a spare ounce of energy left at the end of my days.
Cole has decided that he loves me soooooooo much that he cannot be out of my line of sight. This means that he has become a newly attached appendage to my already weary frame. We are experiencing separation anxiety at its finest (which is an oxymoron of grand proportions). I have read and researched all about this phase and now bear the knowledge that the more secure an emotional bond he has to me the worse this anxiety can become. It is not because he is not exposed to others as I have made it an almost daily ritual to be around other babies, moms, his swim instructor, our mommy and me class moderator, all of whom he sees and is held by every week and I have our babysitter Brodie every Monday afternoon so I can disappear for a few hours. No, it is because my little guy is very smart and is learning object permanence which is that when I am out of sight, I still exist. However, he has yet to grasp the concept of time, thus if I leave his field of vision to grab something out of the refrigerator, he does not know that I will be right back.
All the experts say it shows that a healthy bond has developed and that in time, most babies who have separation anxiety actually become more independent than those who do not. To me though, it is like reliving his colic stage all over again. I say that because his behavior is inconsistent and unpredictable which makes planning a day very difficult. We can have a totally great day with no episodes OR a day where I literally carry him around for hours on end or listen to him scream when I put him down. It is taxing and on those days, I am running on adrenaline. When Cole had colic his first four months of life, I was given some miraculous dose of patience as I typically am not a very patient individual. It was a surprise to me but a very thankful one to get me through those 16 weeks. Now I feel the situation is similar but my patience reserves no longer exist. I am finding myself agitated and frustrated beyond belief. When he was an infant, I could put him down and he was not able to crawl or walk as he does now.
The sheer panic in his eyes is enough to melt my heart every time but the sheer amount of energy it takes to quiet that panic on a bad day is overwhelming. I know this will pass and I take solace in the fact that he has become very much the snuggle buddy but sometimes I just need a bit of personal space which is something you cannot explain to a one year old. Becoming a mom means making sacrifices so I grit my teeth and shed a few tears and just remember to be thankful that my little boy loves me so much!
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