Single parenting sucks.....the selfishness right out of me

The truth is... I've spent the majority of last night holding my tiny daughter sitting upright and holding her close because she didn't feel great. She would wiggle and crumple. She would twist and snuggle. Me holding her was the only thing to allow her to relax some and sleep some while handling gas and tummy complaints.

Normally this is where people tell you it was a terrible night and I'm cranky and tired and .... insert tirade here. And if I told you any of those things - I'd be a bold faced liar. Frankly, yesterday was emotionally draining on a level I can only compare to super heroes after they've saved New York from alien attackers, and the act of comforting such a tiny perfect girl and her crazy red hair calmed my nerves. She is everything perfect, and nothing like me. She hates mornings. She prefers male voices on the radio. She hates to be bundled up and her need to stretch her legs out- is legendary and been going in for the literal majority of her life.

Everything outside of my body says I should be bitter and mad. Movies, books, and social media cast flashlight streams of "knowledge" about how I should be reacting. All the people who insult and demean the "villainous" other parent. On a open book level- I am not bitter or angry. If you've ever had any conversations with me past "what's your favorite color?" Or "what's your stance on appropriate toppings on a banana split?" You'd know that handling things calmly and rationally is my last approach and then only after epic freak out mode and blubbering ugly face snotty nose 3 year who's blanket was eaten by the washing machine mess have already occurred. Yet, somehow I am totally in awe of this perfect girl and her dimples squishing chubby face.

I want to be selfish. I want to hold on to the feeling of total overwhelm and complete heart break the 2nd night in the hospital. The bathroom light casting a vulgar yellow glow in the empty hospital room. She and I alone and listening to the sounds of people walking along the hallway and each other breathing. I felt like I was sitting in a giant bathtub of my emotions and someone had pulled the drain plug out and the emotional water to my weigh ratio made me feel pulled towards sinking into the drain and also overtly heavy and clammy. I wanted to call up her dad and tell him he was a fool because she was amazing and her head still smelled like what I think heaven must smell like. I didn't. Instead I sobbed and mourned the idea that someday she would get to dance on her dad's feet to bad music, I mourned the moment she wouldn't have a dad to take to donuts with dad, I mourned the 194858493 times I wanted her to hear from him how perfect and beautiful she is so that she can see her value in his eyes. I wanted him to be the one who taught her the things I am absolutely terrible at. And so, in an empty hospital room- I sobbed.

And yet- I am not mad. I am not bitter. I am still in shock that she exsists. I am beyond afraid that I am not enough to give her everything she needs. I am absolutely scared to death to do this. I have practiced the answers I will tell her if he chooses to stay outside of her life. "I'm sorry baby girl, he was scared that he couldn't handle being a dad to you.""He is a good guy, but made the wrong choice."  "He just wasn't ready and didn't know how perfect you are" and a thousand rounds of "I'm sorry I can't fix it." Because I believe that kids absorb all the negative you speak about the other side of their genetics so I choose to speak life and apologies and not hatred and ugly.

I will not speak ill will. I will choose happiness. I choose to parent with intention and mercy.
I choose to put my kids above my hurt feelings. I choose to love them as fiercely as two parents.

Being a single parent sucks ....
And it sucks the selfishness right out of me.