Thud

The thud sound will forever be etched in my memory.  I don’t know if I will ever be able to erase it from mind, the look on her tiny little face as she lay there perplexed at what had just happened. Frozen in stunned silence we both just sat there for a second, then a tiny wail came up from the floor.  It had happened, everyone told me it would; I had told myself I would never let it happen.  I had, technically, dropped my infant.  It was really more of a roll off the ottoman where I had laid her to change her diaper.  In my mind though it felt as if I had thrown her off a cliff.  She was fine of course, but for the most agonizing of moments I thought she might not be.

So began the worst post-partum day I have had.  It was the first time I really came to realize that it was just me and my baby girl.  I do not have a spouse or a S.O. to pass her off to.  Yes, I am quite blessed in that I have my mother, but 90% of the time it is just the baby and I.  Even as I type this she is tucked into the swing behind me, cooing away, and singing her sweet songs.  So much reality hit me that day, with that small thud.  I cried for the rest of the day.  She was fine and I was fine but something in me broke, things that I had not allowed to the surface during my entire pregnancy.  When I was carrying her I worked very hard at preventing negativity and sad feelings because I did not want her to feel them.  I feel I was fairly successful at that, but she’s no longer attached to me physically and the floodgates broke.  Everything just came pouring out, I could not contain it anymore.

The full weight of being a single mother fell on me as she toppled to the floor.  She did not have even a mark on her, but I felt like I had been gutted.  I never want her to

I have a terrible cry face... 

doubt my love for her because it is so real it overwhelms me at times.  It would be my wish for her that she never has to face the realities I do.  I have serious worries now that I never thought twice about before…. really serious stuff…. Like how I will ever manage to teach her to whistle, when I myself cannot whistle.  Seriously I cried over that once early in my pregnancy, it was one of those weird preggo freak outs.   I worry I won’t be able to provide for her, or send her to college.  I worry that I will have to work three jobs just to make ends meet, because I cannot count on any spouse to help support us. What will become of my social life? How will I provide her with all the wonderful things a father does?

My identity doesn’t seem to fit anymore and it crushed me.  I am slowly working to rebuild the structure of who I am and how I see myself. Hopefully I will come out of this better on the other side of this transitional period.  I just wish someone had

prepared me for the blow.  It was my thought that having a baby would be all joy and light, but there are some serious adjustments that have to be made not just in your life but emotionally as well.  Things you never think of until something like that moment happens and it lands in your heart like a little rock, with a thud.