Please refrain from telling me how fortunate I am to have a night off from my child. In the ten months since I transitioned into the world of single, co-parenting, and navigating divorce, this particular comment has become the most grating.
You might think I’m relishing a child-free evening, free from babysitting fees, but the truth is, I’m desperately trying to distract myself from the reality of returning to an empty house. For the next 15 years, this will be my norm.
Don’t imply that I’m fortunate to have built-in babysitting through co-parenting. The reality of 50/50 custody brings its own challenges—namely, 50/50 guilt and anxiety. I worry constantly about what my three-year-old is experiencing while away from me. I wonder if she’s gone to bed on time, if she’s eaten properly, and if she’s brushed her teeth. Mornings without her in the house are filled with reminders of her absence—the open bedroom door, the untouched teddy bears. The nights can be haunting, as I wake up thinking I’ve heard her cry, only to remember the bed is empty.
Please don’t say I’m lucky for a good night’s sleep when it’s his turn with our child. What I truly long for is the comfort of my daughter waking me after a nightmare or needing help with a sore throat. I’d give anything for those sleepy morning cuddles, the chaos of breakfast, and the struggle of brushing her teeth—all the little moments I now miss.
And let’s not talk about how lucky I am to have separated while my child is still young. Sure, she may not remember much of this phase, but I will. I will always remember handing over my child, who couldn’t even call me on a cell phone, to a man who harbored resentment toward me. I will recall the emptiness in my heart when returning home after a date or dinner out, only to find her absence. The difficulties of potty training while sharing time with her father will stay with me, as will the ache of not being able to say goodnight one last time.
Don’t tell me I’m fortunate to do things “my way” in my home. Have you ever attempted to parent solo? Have you tried getting a child ready for school while preparing for a pivotal work meeting? Just as I find a method that works for my daughter, it all gets undone over a weekend spent with her dad.
I didn’t end up lucky; I ended up divorced. Just like anyone else, I once cherished the love I had for my partner. I experienced the joy of a grand wedding and the dreams of a shared future. Like you, I had a home filled with laughter, where my daughter had both parents under the same roof. I too enjoyed date nights and shared the struggles of parenting.
Now, I only get to be that mom half the time.
For more insights on navigating parenthood, especially in the context of separation, check out this post on our website. Additionally, for those exploring home insemination methods, resources like Make a Mom’s at-home insemination kit and Hopkins Medicine’s fertility center provide excellent information.
In summary, being a divorced parent is not about being lucky; it’s about grappling with the complexities of love lost and the challenges of co-parenting. It’s about yearning for moments that have become all too rare.