It’s hard enough being away from Mason when he’s with his Dad for 7 days but today was a bit different because Mason isn’t with me or his Dad or at daycare.
Today, Mason accompanied my parents on a trip to Campbell River. It’s not for very long, just two days until I arrive on Friday night but I guess it feels different because he left me, not the other way around. Our first long trip away from Mason was back in January 2010 just before Mason’s 1 year bday. Clayton and I took a trip to Jamaica for a week and Mason was with my parents for a total of 9 (?) days. It was pure torture. My trip wasn’t as fun as it should have been due to the fact I couldn’t stop thinking about my baby and every time I saw a family or a little one running around the resort, my heart pined for my little Man.
I know I’m not the only parent that thinks like this but I tend to worry more when he’s not around me. When he takes trips to the Island or Alberta, I always fear the worst and pray that he’s not in an automobile accident or anything bad happening to him while I’m not there. Not that me being there is going to save the day but it’s something that doesn’t leave my brain until he’s safely back in my care.
When you are pregnant, you spend so much time caring for your body. Ensuring you get the proper nutrients, exercise and rest so your little bean grows and is delivered as healthy as can be.
Then when the little sprout enters the world, it’s your job to ensure that he stays healthy and grows and that you protect him to the best of your ability. (avoiding helicoptering parenting and watching their every move). The way I see it is it's my ultimate parenting job to make sure he stays alive! It’s a mind blowing responsibility. It’s done with everlasting love but on a conscious level, it’s a tough task.
In the first few months it was ensuring he ate enough (7lbs 2 oz baby) who relied on defective boobs and then got topped up with formula. His weight was my obsession and I constantly reviewed growth charts. Comments that he was on the ‘small side’ hurt my feelings and speaking to other parents who seem to have children that resembled piglets made me feel like I was doing something wrong.
Then the mobility kicks in and every little fall that results in a bump or bruise is scrutinized. “I should have done [enter example here] and that wouldn’t have happened”. (Mason has already had a broken ankle…remember. My fault).
Now Mason eats better and is stable on his feet and it’s left me to obsess all about the things I can’t control and pray to God he lives a long and healthy life. I’ve witnessed too many parents losing their babies (for a multitude of reasons) and I couldn’t bear to think of how that impacted their life and how every day is a struggle. My heart aches for them and some of those people I've never met. It's a parent thing. You just 'feel' it.
So I just have to have faith that my Son is in good hands (well, they are my parents…) and focus on the fun times he’ll have when he’s with them.
And I just have to wait 2 days, 53 hours, 3204 minutes and 192279 seconds until I can give my baby a hug.