Parenting can be a beautiful journey, but it also has its emotional bumps along the way. It’s a feeling everyone can relate to, reminiscent of those early crushes that left us heartbroken and confused, wondering what we did wrong. You know the drill: the longing, the heartache, and eventually, the acceptance. But what happens when that feeling of rejection hits a little closer to home—like when your own child seems to prefer their other parent?
From the moment my youngest son, Leo, entered the world, he was like a ray of sunshine in my life. I fell head over heels for him the instant he took his first breath. Our bond was immediate and deep. However, it didn’t take long for my little bundle of joy to develop a preference for his father. At first, I reassured myself that it was just a phase, a novelty because Dad wasn’t around all day like I was. This helped dull my jealousy for a while; after all, he still loved me, right?
As time passed, Leo’s preference began to show more clearly. Some days were fine—I’d enjoy a break when he happily ran to his dad after a long day. It felt convenient, especially as I was pregnant with my third child and couldn’t lift him as easily anymore. But soon, I noticed that his excitement for Dad was becoming the norm. I missed my cuddle buddy, but I kept telling myself it was only temporary.
Then came the day that shattered my heart. Leo got hurt, and I rushed over to comfort him, only to be met with a loud shriek as he pushed me away, calling for “Dada.” I felt like an outsider in my own family—how could the child who once needed me for everything now reject my comfort?
This phase didn’t pass; instead, it lingered like an uninvited guest. I now found myself watching the most beautiful boy from a distance, cherishing any brief moments of affection he offered between his hugs with Dad. To cope, I leaned on my older son, Max, who showered me with love and hugs, but the emptiness never fully faded.
Recently, Leo has been sick. He’s clingy, cranky, and refusing to eat. Luckily, Dad has been home, and Leo insists on being carried around. The moment his dad puts him down, he cries—not out of anger but with a sad, hoarse wail that pulls at my heartstrings. I try to comfort him, but he only cries louder. If I attempt to hold him, he fights me, and my growing belly makes it hard to scoop him up. I sit there, feeling helpless, as he cries for a mother’s comfort, and I can’t provide it.
Just like those unreciprocated crushes from our youth, his rejection only deepens my longing. I miss him like an amputee misses a limb, still feeling his little arms wrapped around my neck from our last cuddle. I want that connection back, and it aches deep within me.
I don’t blame him, of course. After all, who can truly fault a child for their whims? Instead, I turn the blame inward, feeling like a failure as a mom. I convince myself that I’ve let him down somehow. Maybe if I were more fun or less strict, he wouldn’t have drifted away from me.
I remind myself that toddlers are notoriously fickle, and I look to Max, who loves me unconditionally. Still, the pain of feeling rejected by a little one for whom I would move mountains is hard to shake.
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In summary, the rollercoaster of parenting can be filled with unexpected emotions, particularly when a child seems to favor one parent over the other. This experience, while painful, is often just a phase in their development, reminding us that love, in all its forms, can be complex yet rewarding.