It’s been four months since I embarked on the journey of single parenthood—since September 16, 2013, to be precise. One of the biggest challenges I’ve faced in this transition is managing the endless questions from my four-year-old daughter, Layla. Thankfully, my one-year-old son, Noah, is still young enough not to be overly curious; a few extra cuddles and a steady nap schedule seem to do the trick to soothe his confusion.
One particularly tough night, Layla was crying for her dad. As I held her close, I struggled to keep my own emotions in check, wiping away my tears while trying to explain that her dad still loves her deeply. He just made a poor choice not to remain in our family. It can be incredibly challenging to articulate complex adult emotions to such a small child, especially when I often find myself grappling with my own feelings of loss.
Even after four months since my marriage ended, I still find myself tearing up most nights, replaying Layla’s questions in my mind and searching for the right responses. It’s a daunting task to keep my family strong while I feel fractured inside. How do I juggle my family, job, education, friendships, and social life when some days, just getting out of bed feels like climbing a mountain? It’s tough to maintain patience, speak kindly, and fulfill my mom duties when all I want to do is scream or hide from reality.
This is my biggest struggle: taking it one day at a time, one hour at a time, one. minute. at. a. time.
When I look at my children, especially Noah, I see traces of their dad in them. From the way Noah’s eyes shift from blue to a stormy grey when he’s catching a cold to the shape of Layla’s ears that mirror her father’s, it’s a constant reminder of him. His influence runs through their veins, just as mine does.
Someday, they will be old enough to ask deeper questions, and I want to be ready to share the truth with them, grounded in love. To do that, I must embody love in my actions, speak it through my words, and demonstrate it by the way I talk about their father. The hardest part of this journey is resisting the temptation to let anger seep into the cracks of my wounded heart.
Choosing to love my kids more than I hold onto bitterness is a daily decision. It’s a choice I strive to make, even though I falter more often than I’d like. There are countless moments when they’re sick, cranky, or crying in the middle of the night—plenty of chances to lash out in frustration because I’m drained and resentful that their dad isn’t there to share the burden. But I remind myself that they, too, are feeling the confusion and sadness I carry.
Instead of letting anger take over, I try to embrace the overwhelming grace of knowing that they are the brightest parts of my life. So, I love them. I hold them when they cry, even when the dishes pile up in the sink because I haven’t had the energy to clean. I comfort them when they’re upset, even if it’s past bedtime and I’d much rather relax in front of the TV. I hold onto them when I feel lost, letting go of anger, bitterness, fear, and anxiety.
I pray to find the strength to open my fists, allowing my hurt and anger to fall, so I can wrap my arms around my kids in a love so profound it seeps into their very being. That’s all I can do.
This article was originally published on May 6, 2012.
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Summary:
Navigating single parenthood is a challenging journey filled with complex emotions and endless questions from young children. The author shares her struggles in managing her feelings while raising her kids, emphasizing the importance of choosing love over bitterness. By embracing patience and understanding, she finds strength in her role as a mother, even in the face of overwhelming challenges.