The Rollercoaster of Parenting

It really is, though, isn't it? And yes, Ronan is now playing in my head and life is, indeed, that rollercoaster also. But man alive, does Parenting make you feel higher than the Empire State and lower than something that's really low. Like an octobass (I googled that). Last week's hardships and loneliness were overtaken by absolute beauty, joy and elation this week, and, desperately sadly, our last week together as I return to work tomorrow. 

I'm part of an online support group for Mamas who have children with Autism. So often, posts are positive and sharing milestones and equally as often, they're not. They're full of 'Autism won today'. It kind of drives me a wee bit daft, reading those, but I realise that to cope with pretty much anything in life, you need connection. I thank Russell Brand for speaking about this frequently and spreading that message. It's a topic that comes up in our wee ex-pat group here, how a lack of community can really make you feel isolated and it affects your way of looking at life. We have tried to correct it. We have tried really hard to build a strong community who support one another and I think we've nailed it, actually. It was to this community that I turned when my boy had his first proper Autistic Meltdown In Public. 

Is there any way to describe what that was like? I'm not sure. Is there any way to describe the pain I felt, knowing something was hurting him and he couldn't tell me what? Unlikely, but you probably know that feeling anyway. Is there a way to describe how I felt, knowing that I was being judged, seeing countless people stop and literally stare at us, as I tried to calm my screaming child? Absolutely. LIVID. FURIOUS. DISGUSTED. SICK TO MY VERY STOMACH. How DARE you. How VERY DARE you. You don't need to know that this child is Autistic. You don't. You don't need to see that I am white and he is brown. You don't need to think that I'm a bad mother, or that I've done something, or that maybe he's not mine. Because that's what I saw in those eyes staring at us. What you need to do, the HUMAN thing to do, is think that this child is having a hard time and either you offer some f*cking help or you MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS. You. Just. Walk. On. 

Clearly, I'm over this episode. 

Thankfully, the boy is. And so we move on. 

The respect I have for parents is just overwhelming. Jeez Louise, it is so hard. But. BUT. MASSIVE BUT (hahaha). Over the last couple of weeks, there has been some sort of development BOOM in my baby. As well as singing all day long, he has started to communicate his wants and needs. Like, so much. We are working on PECS and he can now use the pictures to tell me he wants a granadilla. He can say granadilla. Not properly, like, but it's a start. He had said his name. He points. He POINTS! He looks up at his toys/fruit bowl (thank you, Sar) and says 'ahí'. He waves. He came to give me a kiss, one particularly beautiful morning. Man, these eyes have a way of leaking when I'm writing... He wants to walk when we walk the dogs. At the beginning, when I tried to get him to walk, so concerned was I about his physical development and the people who were saying he should be able to walk this far etc, he had utter, catastrophic meltdowns on the pavement which left us both broken. Now, he stands at the door. Sure, he still throws himself on the ground and cries when we have to stop (and pick up poo!). But now, he's out of that in a minute. He just gets up and carries on. Like that's what happens in life. Picks himself up and off he goes. 

All of this, all of these things that are going on just give me pause to say: In. His. Own. Time. This child is so incredible and I feel so lucky and so blessed to be his mummy. Tomorrow is another new change for him, for us both. I have to go away and leave him, like all parents eventually have to do. We are so fortunate to have had 4 months together and man, I'm excited about his next steps. I can only hope that I'm there to see most of them, when they happen first.  

Happy Mother's Day. Whether you're a Mama or an Auntie or a Friend or the Biggest Support Ever for that Mama. I thank you and we thank you. xxxx

Nobody wants to be lonely...

So, I guess I started this blog as a way to get all the frustrations of going through the process off my chest. Secondary to that was that I thought maybe it would encourage other people to adopt, specifically other single people. But, as you all know, I got my baby. We have been together for 14 weeks - that's all???? It feels like forever. It feels like we are just part of each other...I mean, that's what I feel. I've absolutely no idea whatsoever what Emilio feels. 

When he came home, it felt normal. It felt like this is what I have been waiting for my whole life: someone to love. A friend wrote on my FB that our need to love another is so strong, as humans, that she was so glad I had finally got my person. She's right, I think. Our drive to connect to another being is just pure, raw biology. Most people find a partner, right? Lots of people want to have kids - cement their love and create another being out of that love. Biology, too, right? But what about us? The ones who really do crave a love of their own, but it just didn't happen that way? The ones that know that they SUCK at romantic love but that the love they have, the love they are capable of is just bursting, straining, surging to get to another human and that human is the baby they adopt? We are a rare breed, I believe, but we do exist. And now, I'm beginning to find out what that's really like. After all the paperwork and the checking and the frustrating process...now, I am learning what it's like to Mum, Alone. 

This week has been really, really hard. My baby has come on leaps and bounds. So much so that I'm not the one to notice a lot of the time. Our village comment frequently, 'Marianne, he's a different child to the one I met a couple of months ago,' etc. I see differences, obviously, but not in the way other people do. He is happy most of the time. He wakes up singing, or shouting 'OH-OH' in the most Scottish accent you've ever heard. He cuddles, he snuggles, he laughs, he plays, he melts my heart daily. But this week, things have gone off-kilter and I don't know why. Sleep has been horrendous, he's had almighty meltdowns about napping and it's just been pretty brutal. Some plans didn't work out the way I thought they would mid week as well and this had such a massive impact on me, that I realised I wasn't quite as ok with life as I had thought. The cold, harsh reality of Single Mumming has set in. 

A couple of weeks ago I got Man-Flu. Now, we know that is just a cold with a bit of a virus. We know that we can power through such nonsense. However. When faced with a child and 2 dogs to walk and no one to help, you can end up feeling pretty sorry for yourself when you genuinely feel like CRAP. This was Cold, Harsh Reality No. 1. The only person who was able to offer to help was someone I could kiss forever for offering, but that I really couldn't inflict my 3 year old child on! 

The second was this week. I feel like crap. I am as lonely as the biggest bag of lonely things. I am desperate for some company. Our nanny is wonderful and a joy to talk to, but she is not one of my close friends. Feeling isolated and alone, in my opinion, is one of the worst things to feel and now I can't shake it. My friend who has also been on maternity leave just went back to work and I suspect this has contributed to my general crappy mood. THIS is the reality of being a single parent. I am so lucky to have the village and the support that I have, SO LUCKY, and I know it. But unless you have been a single parent, you have no idea. As my beautiful Bestest put it, you could be facing the long, long day on your own but you know that, at some point, that other person who loves you and your child is coming home. The Single People don't have that. 

I am not complaining. Just so that's out there. I am DELIGHTED with my life choices and, mother of all that is nature, I love my baby so much, I might just explode, as I've said before. I'm just telling it like it is and the reality of loneliness is brutal. The lowest point of this has made me question everything except one thing. Everything except whether I have done the right thing by adopting my baby boy. He is my Everything. It's just that, whilst I have been laughing through the shocked looks and comments about doing this myself, obviously a part of me wished I wasn't. And that has been the sucker punch this week.