I have one child and I don't want any more. I don't want to do this again.
I need to explain that this is mostly about my first year of motherhood and that I've still got that rabbit in the headlights thing going even though my son is now three.
As most of the women in my mothers' group grew more comfortable with their role they started talking about having a second child. When they whinged it was about partners who maybe didn't help quite enough or who stayed out a bit later with their mates than they said they would. They had dinner together at the end of the day. They had occasional nights out. They invited us to their houses.
Nobody mentioned a partner who was afraid to hold the baby, who did not have the energy at the end of the day to help around the house, who did not want to cook or eat. Our place was pretty much off-limits to visitors unless I insisted and that was a huge effort for both of us.
I could never leave the baby alone with him. He didn't think he could cope. In order to start back at work once a week (I needed the time alone almost as much as we desperately needed the money) my parents looked after the baby. All he had to do was be home by 6:30pm. I would get there at 7:30pm. And even that was too much pressure for him.
I'm going to spell out what that meant for me. It meant that he was anxious all of Sunday afternoon (so snappy, irritable, probably in bed).
He would invariably find it hard to wake up in the morning and therefore be again angry, flustered, noncommunicative. This meant that he was late for work and had to work through his lunchbreak so that he could leave on time, making him hungry, resentful and tired. He'd never, ever leave work when he was supposed to so that meant my parents had to stay later than they wanted to.
And then when I got home (sometimes before him) I'd have to apologise to my mum and dad and then have to listen to him complaining about how hard it was for him to leave work early and how it was affecting his position at work and how guilty he felt about my parents.
So that's just one example of how things went. Now just assume every other element of life contained pretty much the same ingredients and you get why the whole thing was so bloody exhausting.
We fought a lot in that first year. There was no sex or even intimacy. Sleep deprivation, anxiety and depression destroyed our relationship.
I can remember good things too. There were times when the three of us went out together and it was fine. And times when the two of them connected so well (as they still do). But there just aren't enough of them to overcome the conviction that I never, ever want to go through that again.
I used to think that having a depressed partner was like being a single parent - responsible for all the decisions and all the work.
But it's quite different. I spent a lot of time worrying about my partner, cloistered in an atmosphere so thick and heavy with depression that I could hardly breathe sometimes. It takes a lot energy to be that disappointed, frustrated angry and desperate. I invested too much into the relationship. I was stretched on every front. And I never, ever got a break I didn't fight for.
Looking back on it I should have left. We should have lived in separate places. It would have been better doing the day-to-day stuff alone, without waiting around for things to improve. I could have utilised better the support I might have had from friends and family.
I know how bloody hard it was for him. But this is where I get to say that it was hell for me too. And I'm (obviously) still angry because that's not how I want to remember my son's first year.
There are a lot of other good, well considered reasons that I have for not wanting more children, but this one is top of the list.
Well, it's good to get that off my chest. Feel free to vent, or question, or say anything at all at this point.
Flo
I can totally relate to this post - although in my case, my rabbit-in-the-headlights look comes from suddenly finding myself with sole parental responsibilities for two teenage stepchildren, due to their father's depression and their mother's emotional/financial disappearance. After having been contentedly childless for years, it's startling to find myself in this role. (The kids lived with their mother when I married their dad and no one expected that to change.)
ReplyDeleteThey are lovely kids, but pretty traumatized to find themselves booted out of their home due to their mother's disappearance into a new relationship. They've lost their mom, they've lost their familiar lives and home town and school and friends ... and now, on top of all that, they've lost their father to depression. All they've got is me. So I do the right thing and I am warm and present and consistent and provide the life boat that they desperately need ... and if their father could help me, even a little bit, this wouldn't be so damn HARD to do. But it feels like I have three kids, not two, ever since he became depressed, and he's the neediest of them all. As a result, my days are much like the ones you've described, Flo -- just replace the infant with two traumatized adolescents.
Well-meaning friends say things like: "Oh, how nice for you that you get to experience the joys of motherhood!"...without realizing that there's little that's joyous about a household filled with the black fog of depression. And that motherhood is a somewhat different experience when it isn't chosen or shared.
Nonetheless, I will never, ever let those kids feel that they are anything but 100 per cent wanted and welcome in my life. And if, privately, I miss my childless life, or feel anger towards my partner and his ex for the ways each has handed their parental responsibilitiess to me ... well, that's private, to be admitted anonymously here, not ever in front of the kids. Those two innocent souls, who never asked for any of this, get only love from me. Tired, exhausted, stressed-out love, perhaps, but love all the same. Consistent, even-tempered, and reliable love. The very thing a depressed parent can't give them.
Flo, I have an infant as well and I face similar challenges with my spouse. There are days when I feel like I do everything and the one thing I ask for his help with, to help take care of our child, he complains about or acts completely put upon. It's exhausting for me. I resent that it is like this sometimes.....often times. I wish it was a day to day life that we could enjoy, that we could celebrate the good things and work through the challenges together without fights, but everything is made a bigger deal because of his depression. It overwhelms him constantly and that means he directs his frustration at me. I'm tired and sad and sick of it...but the thought of leaving makes me sad too.
ReplyDeleteI do want to say THANK YOU to both of you for the work you do as parents. I work in education and too many parents struggle to provide the emotionally stable environment you are providing in spite of challenging circumstances. Your kids, age 3 or teens, will be better people for it. Well done, especially since you don't hear that often enough.
I also have a kid, and relate to everything said here by the three of you, and I'm wondering: is anyone else struggling with the "should I leave or should I stay" question? I'm really wrestling with this. There are many reasons to stay, including the big and obvious ones:
ReplyDelete* financial and practical concerns
* not wanting to take my kid away from her father, or my partner away from his kid
* the ever-elusive hope that if I stick it out, my partner will get better again
* genuine love for my partner
In fact, I'm shocking myself by even thinking of doing anything but staying, as I've always been a loyal-to-a-fault kind of woman. But recently I confess that the thought has crept in. Largely because the thought of living my life breathing in the air of someone else's misery every single day, in a home that's virtually devoid of joy...well, when I imagine that that's my future, and my little girl's future, it frightens me. I usually cope by pushing those thoughts away, by getting through every day and every fresh depression crisis, step by step by tired step.
I grew up in a joyless home and never imagined I'd end up in one in my adult life. That doesn't seem fair! But I also don't want to up and abandon my partner, my little girl's father, just because he has an illness. That doesn't seem fair either.
I guess depression has nothing to do with fairness. Thanks for this blog, Flo. It's nice to have a place to say these things, and know they'll be understood.
I should also say, to clarify the post above, that my partner's depression has been going on for over two years, with only brief and fragile periods of nondepression.
ReplyDeleteI can relate to this Anonymous 2. I think more about what it would be like to stay than to leave. I feel overwhelmed by the prospect of being in this joyless house sometimes, and I fear that this is it...the best it will get...the way it will always be, or at least most of the time. I completely relate to your statement: "the thought of living my life breathing in the air of someone else's misery every single day, in a home that's virtually devoid of joy."
ReplyDeleteI also fear that my child will struggle with this awful disease. I fear that I won't have the family I wanted because my husband can't handle it. That frustrates and saddens me, perhaps more than anything else. I wouldn't have married him if he hadn't wanted a big family and yet now I don't know if he can handle that or if we'd ever be in a position to have a big family...being intimate and in a good place for long enough to have several more children seems distant right now.
I know that my husband is ill and I too vascilate between compassion and love for him and true resentment for all his illness has put us through. I know I am not perfect and I don't expect him to be perfect, but an illness that affects how one thinks and treats others (esp. me) and interacts with the ones he loves...it's a horrible illness. I know he feels overwhelmed right now with all of it, and I am hopeful his meds will help and start to improve things, but I am fearful too. I feel so selfish writing that, but it also feels good to say it. I want my life back..the joyful life I had before this. I want him to be well and our family to be happy.
So, yes, i too think of leaving, but I've always prided myself on seeing marriage as forever. I never thought this was where I'd be.
Gosh, this is a negative post. Sorry and thanks for reading. Any positive spin on it or advice on how to get out of this rut? I really do feel like I'm in a rut with all of it right now. My patience for it and for him is just too worn down, and I feel very negative about all of it.
Thanks, Ellie