I have to be honest, I've been a spoiled Mom. Not only do I have a loving husband who supported my decision to stay at home, we also had my cousin to help us out. Being older, I let her run the household and be in charge of the food and chores. She also played the role of a second mother for my sons. I trusted her and in her love for my sons... so even though we both had complaints, we were a team for our sons.
But she is leaving for Hong Kong tomorrow in pursuit of better income opportunities because she has nieces and nephews to support, and only herself to depend on. Now... not only do I need to take charge of domestic chores, I also had to open our home again to a stranger.
If I didn't have eczema on my hands, we could have maybe worked the setup out... but not having a regular babysitter would also affect Yakee's attendance to St. Michael as well as our other plans. And because we wanted the new helper trained, we approached an agency and got a new helper before my cousin left.
She was fetched last Wednesday, started work last Thursday, even endeared herself to me by taking charge of really watching and looking for Yakee in the playground yesterday... only to leave the house without her things, and with my two old phones today... phones I kept because I have not saved the text contents somewhere else.
It is so heartbreaking to hear Yakee pray that we find her... because he has attached himself to her as a coping mechanism to what he perceives to be a great loss... my cousin is his second Mom. He grew up in my cousin's care! And now this, betrayed and left by the person he thought to turn to.
And oh, I dare not think of all the messages I saved... from the time Py died, to reassuring words from my MIL when we weren't getting pregnant, or when I was on bed rest... thoughtful words from my mom and quotes from my friends... and the everyday testament to how loved I am by my husband...
The Mom in me is scared that Yakee will regress by wetting the bed and whining and being demanding more... and that Yamee's speech will get all the more delayed. I am scared that, out of frustration, I'd make the boys my emotional punching bags. I'm scared that I can't hack it once my hands start itching and bleeding... I could go on and on and on.
But thankfully, I perceive the error in my fears. I am not my sons' mom because I had help. I just am and our love for each other will prevail. And things changing doesn't mean they're changing for the bad... just the different. We will adjust, I know it.
May I just have the grace to see my family through.
Post a Comment