Friday, August 26, 2005

Cried Out Well, it's Friday.  As countless rock dj's have said, thank God. Wednesday wasn't a bad day, baby-wise.  He was cute, and sweet, and we went down to visit Mom at her school for the first time.  It was a little odd to change suddenly from primary care provider - superdaddy! - to "oh, this is my husband."  My wife was great, and introduced me to everybody.  And they promptly shook my hand and then ignored me completely.  That was fine - they know R, not me - but what bugged me was when I would start talking about little O, and they would literally cut me off to keep talking to R about how cute he was.  I apparently had nothing to say about the baby.  I was just the driver. Work-wise, Wednesday was frustrating.  I had a perfect at home assignment - preparing hundreds of envelopes for a big mailing.  The envelopes were stuffed, stamped, labeled, and all ready to go when my boss remembered that I was supposed to put in a cover letter.  So I had to rip open hundreds of manila envelopes, stuff the envelopes in, and reseal them with tape.  They were Frankenstein's-monster ugly, and looked ridiculous.  I had to spend an hour of my time with Oliver working on envelopes instead, trying desperately to keep him entertained on his playmat while furiously stuffing and taping.  Then R came home and helped me out as long as she could, until O woke up.  Wednesday night was rought for Mrs. B.  He either was eating or sleeping practically from the minute she came home - no playtime, no smiles, nothing.  I noticed the tears and asked what was wrong.  She choked out, "I miss my baby."  She wanted to actually see him with his eyes open, not just feeding or sleeping.  And it was worse - she was starting to feel like she was losing him, like I was having a better time with him and growing closer to him than she was.  After only three days, she felt like she was losing him. Thursday morning she went to work with tears streaming down her face, and I cried after she left.  She was inconsolable.  My wife was crushed emotionally, and I could do nothing to help her, it seemed. So yesterday was a good day - he ate, he slept, he played.  We went to University Village to visit my brother, who must have been a little bemused at how I had suddenly turned into someone who can't think of anything to say that didn't involve "Oliver" or "he started smiling" or rattles or toys or other babyness.  He was a good little passenger, bouncing around in his Bjorn and looking adorable, until he decided to spit up all over the front of it near the end.  I picked up a book for Mom:  "How She Really Does It:  Secrets of Successful Stay-at-Work Moms" by Wendy Sachs.  (It seems to be helping.) Thursday night was pretty tough for a while - I did some work and plugged in headphones so I could concentrate.  (ADD.)  By the time I was done, it was 8:30, baby was nearly asleep, and Mom was in tears again on the bed.  After she was done and nearly asleep, I suddenly started sobbing, and suddenly she was trying to console me, and that's when we really started talking. As it turns out, I had given her the impression that we were having nothing but perfect, blissful days with Oliver.  So she was convinced that I had some magic touch, and that she was somehow a bad parent because she didn't have the same kind of perfect, serene times with him.  What was really happening was that I was only telling her about the good stuff, and the things that needed to be reported.  I would tell him about smiles, and laughter, and when he ate and when he slept.  I wouldn't tell her about the crying jags, or the squirming in my lap, or the times when I would try to get him to smile and he would start screaming instead.  So last night, we talked about all of that.  I told her all of the bad stuff.  And then I explained that I never told her about it because I didn't want to be the "hapless dad."  I wanted her to know that I was good with him, and that things were working well.  And instead, she thought that I was Superdad, and that he only loved me. I think we cleared up a lot last night.  Mom's still going to have anxiety and insecure moments.  I think it helped to tell her that I had my own anxiety and insecurity all day long.  Neither one of us is perfect at this, but we're learning, and we're going to get through it. 7:38:33 AM     Speak up!  []