Babies on Vacay

My babies are on a holiday.

I am not.

I didn't sleep last week in anticipation of them going. I would wake up in the middle of the night either panicked that something happened to their plane or that something happened while they were there (the worst sunburn ever; secondary drowning; Mexican drug cartel... my imagination is immense in the dark) and I wouldn't be there to fix it. Who will pack their goggles? Who will make sure that they wear enough sunscreen?

I haven't slept much this week because they are gone. They are having so much fun. They are well taken care of. They are not overly sunburnt as far as I know, they are safe in the water and the cartel has stayed away. Their dad has made them call me twice, which I appreciate more than he probably knows.

They are having fun. Without me. They are swimming and eating ice cream and making memories without me. With their dad and a new person. With someone they care about a lot.

I respect that. I try to anyways. I have a great stepmom and logically think it's wonderful that my children have another person to care for them and to be there for them.

Emotionally I feel like my heart is breaking. My village has assured me that no one will ever take my place as their mother. Logically I know that.
Emotionally... when I see pictures of the 4 of them together, the fear of losing them makes it hard to breathe. The thought that they will go to someone else about their hurts and problems and stresses makes me crazy. The thought that someone else will comfort them when they have a bad dream or rub their backs when they are sick just destroys me. The thought that someday, my babies might ask to go live with their dad and his girlfriend full time makes me panic. It's more fun there. It's the home they grew up in. I get it. Logically. Emotionally I have ranted and cried and screamed. I have made 2 snarky comments to my children about it. I am not proud of that.

I am not a great mom. I get overwhelmed and I don't have enough patience and I yell and don't read to them enough and don't tell them how amazing they are enough and I lie awake thinking of ways I should have been better after a long day of refereeing their fighting... but I am a good mom and I love them more than I ever thought possible.
I didn't know coparenting would be THIS hard. I thought it would get easier. I thought after a year, I would be ok with them being gone every second week. I thought shared custody was a necessary evil to get out of a bad relationship. I thought we would share them and try to raise them together and the awful feeling of being lost when they were gone would lessen.

It hasn't.

Every second Friday when I drop them at their dad's, I cry. For a year now. I cry every second Friday at 5:02 when I drive away. Every second Friday at 5 I make plans to distract myself so I don't have to go home to face the emptiness of my house. I thought I would start to look forward to it... but I hate it. With every piece of my heart. I hate it.

Don't get me wrong- it's less devastating by a fraction. Their dad and I are now on speaking terms and even able to have civil and friendly conversations. He makes them call me and I make them call him (what 9 and 6 year old want to talk on the phone anyways?). He and I had a conversation before they left about how hard it was going to be and how much I was dreading it. He says he understands- but he doesn't yet. I haven't introduced them to anyone. I haven't added another person to their life that they adore. He hasn't had his place threatened yet. As much as he and I have been through, I dread that day for him. I know it will gut him. I know how much he loves our children and I know how hard it will be. I know how hard it is.

I wasn't going to blog anymore. I was going to speak less and listen more. This one I had to get out though. I read an article when we first split about how hard coparenting is, and I remember thinking Oh my God that is me. That is exactly how I feel. Thank God other people struggle this hard.
So tonight, at 5pm when my babies should be coming home but are on a beach instead, I spewed all this mess out on my laptop as I sob in my kitchen and drink too much blueberry tea. Just in case someone needs to read it. Just in case someone is wondering if the grass is greener.

I am fortunate to have my babies at all. I am lucky to be their mom. They are not just mine. I have to remember that. They are a gift to many... and as much as it hurts me to share, I have to learn to give up ownership and share the gift of my babies with others.
And trust that they will always, always know I how much I love them.