I Did Not Mean to Ignore My Son
By: Rachel Rogers
Tags: Divorce, Guilt, Motherhood, Children, Family

I Did Not Mean to Ignore My Son

My little man

I haven’t been the best mother to my son. Let me rephrase that, I have not been very loving to my son. Not any better is it? I have so much guilt.

I have been distracted for all of his short life. Looking back at how calm things were with my daughter and comparing them to my son’s world, crushes me. It does me no good to acknowledge much of this was out of my control. I still think I missed many important moments and opportunities.

I​n the stretch one week, I gave birth, my depressed husband secretly quit his job and then he broke his back. I wish I had known then what I know now. He was lost, he was in a far worse place than anyone understood, he was going downhill fast.

Photo by Usman Yousaf on Unsplash

I​ did not bond with Travis properly in his early days. How could I lovingly nurse my newborn while a full grown man was yelling about how much he hated me and his life? My marriage was falling apart and the tension in my life was unbearable. The anger that secretly stewed in my house was far worse than I am prepared to describe. Mental health should always be taken serious and the problems there for us run deep. My husband was brutal in his depression, his outbursts scary and defeating.

In the mess of all the broken home and failed marriage, I was also bombed with the news that the man I believed was my dad(passed 10 years previous) was not. I found myself wrapped up in a wonderful world with this new father, trying to live with the truth of who I really was, at the same time I had a man I loved trying to bring me into his darkness. Confusion was my new normal.

All of the excuses in the world do not replace what I missed while I was lost in a fog. Travis needed me and I was mentally gone. I had no patience, I cried everyday. My life was full of distraction and I was supposed to be there. I was a mother in the sense that everything I did was done for my children. I changed every diaper, nursed every two hours (no exageration) for 4 months straight. I hugged and said I love you, I showered with kisses when I could. Usually as tears ran down my face and the rest of the world pulled my attention away. I did not teach him how to be human. I hardly potty trained, we never sat for meals, we never explored and played together without a major cloud over our head. Travis lived with a shell of a person in me and his broken father was self destructing.

My daughter attended a school 45 minutes away. I was the bus driver, poor Travis the bus monitor. I drove there, home, there, home, 5 days a week. Travis was along for the ride. He spent the first 3 years of his life driving his sister to school, watching mommy cry on the way home and listening to daddy scream as soon as we walked in the door. That innocent toddler should have been laughing and playing but he was commuting 4 hours a day, living in complete chaos. Everyday I felt more guilt and I could not seem to get out of the cycle. I was afraid to give up on my marriage but I knew I would have to. After we finally reached our boiling points, a 20 year relationship was over and our world was left in crumbles.

Photo by Sandy Millar on Unsplash

T​ravis always screamed at me. He could not talk yet but he would look straight at me and just yell, something he learned from us. My broken soul would yell back. That is the relationship I formed with my son. An angry one, full of conflict.

I​ could never get myself together enough to slow down and play. Travis was just there, observing the sadness and fighting. I would hold him, cuddle him and tell him I loved him but with constant tension around us, it felt more like I was convincing myself I was going to be a good mom again when the smoke cleared, than anything else. I was breaking inside. He needed some serious mothering and my head was too full to do my job. I was barely going through the motions.

T​he little moments with Travis fill me with regret. T​he snapping at him, the “mommy is too busy”, the complete lack of structure, the plopping in front of the TV, the hours on the phone fighting and texting, all of it eats at me. I should have been doing so much more. I should have been making memories with my son, connecting emotionally with him. I should have been teaching manners and acceptable behaviors. I was supposed to be showing him good things. The only lesson he got from me was how to constantly be on edge, how to snap uncontrollably and how to cry all day. I look like an animal to that kid, a flake of a mom and I’m not.

I​ have settled in life a bit now, things have calmed down, sort of. Still a lot of stress and drama to work through. My relationship with my son is improving but still needs help. He is only 4, I know I have the opportunity to laugh and play. I am working on it moment by moment.

Travis is a little boy that is full of energy. We all have our own personalities and his is in your face. He does not take an ounce from anyone. Maybe that is just his story and I should stop being stuck on what I did not do, keep in mind what I did do. My wild man.

Mom and Travis on a long commute

I was able to mentally navigate a mine field with only minor injuries. I kept my head above water, kept my kids safe. My battles have been fought in their honor. Every move I made, I made with them, for them. I am a human and I have been through the wringer. I need to process and cope as well.

Travis is my little man. I hope my relationship with him is calmer someday. I hope he knows that I’m not a crazy yelling monster here to fight. I hope he gets to see me happy and balanced again. I hope he understands how much love him. I hope he loves me back.