Atti’s teething about four teeth at once, he’s had a low-grade fever on and off for nearly a week, and I cannot do anything to make him happy.
In the past couple of weeks it seems like a little lightbulb has turned on for Atti. All of a sudden he’s interacting with us so much better. He can start to communicate with us, to follow simple instructions, he’s aware of so much more. Which is of course a good thing, but it brings some big fat complications.
Now that Atti is aware of what he wants to do, he’s also aware of what he can’t do. I keep hoping that it’s just the teeth, but lately when I put him down for tummy time he just starts throwing a fit. Instead of working and muscling his way over to a toy, he starts to cry and bangs his head. And instead of my sweet, peaceful, content baby, I suddenly have a very bitter little man.
I keep trying to remind myself that in parenthood, everything will pass. For good and for bad, everything will pass. So maybe I’ll be in for a rough few months, but I shouldn’t let myself think that this is how it’s going to be forever. But boy is it tempting. He’s more dependent on me right now than he even was as a newborn. At least then he would sleep, or I could pop him in his sling. Now I have to lug around a 20 pound sack of flour, all day long.
When someone you love is going through therapy, there’s a standard pattern of behavior. They work and work and work and seem to get nowhere, so you agonize that they’ve reached their limit and whatever ability they have right then is all they’ll ever have. You worry and grieve about their options and what this means for you as a caretaker, and just when you’re ready to give up and settle in to what your new life will look like, they have a breakthrough. The elation you feel is more than can be described in words. The clouds part, heaven itself seems to shine down upon you, you weep with gratitude and pledge to always remember this feeling and never be so pessimistic again. You commit to celebrating achievements and to stop focusing on limitations.
And then time goes on, they work and work and work and seem to stagnate, and no matter how big the previous breakthrough, no matter how glorious you felt before, you will still eventually face those feelings of hopelessness again. You will still have visions of yourself dealing with this same problem 10, 20 years from now. You still count up all the things you’re sacrificing.
And then they have another breakthrough, and the sun comes back out from behind the clouds.
The sun will shine again for me, I’m just getting tired of living in this gloom.