Separation Anxiety

When Noah was younger, we never went through the separation anxiety stage.  We never went through the I Need Mommy and I Need Her Now or the Only Mommy Will Do stages, either.  I read books to him  to prepare him for the first day of preschool, I came up with a little ritual for us to do when I dropped him off, and I prepared a small photo album of pets, family and his favorite things at home for him to carry in his pocket, but we never needed them.  Noah never even showed interest in them.  I longed for Noah to just once cry out for me, and it hurt when I dropped him off at preschool or the sitter's and he was so indifferent toward me.  It wasn't that I wanted my child to be upset, I just wanted--and needed--my child to need me and to show some kind of reaction.  It felt like a kick in the face each time I left him, as I watched other children cry for their mommies, and my child didn't even notice I was leaving.  At the time, I took it very personally.  I just knew it was a reflection on me, on my poor parenting skills (and complete lack thereof) and on our relationship with each other.  There was no separation anxiety because there wasn't anything to separate from.  I was positive my child was just glad to be rid of me.

Well, that was then, this is now.  And now I know better.  While my parenting skills may still not be the greatest, I know that Noah's lack of reaction about me leaving him was not a reflection of my parenting skills, or of me.  Noah's lack of anxiety was a reflection of what was going on inside his head.  His lack of attachment to me was not a reflection of our relationship, it was a reflection of his struggle with Asperger.  Noah and I did not have that relationship I longed for because he wasn't capable of making those emotional connections, not because I was a bad mom.

And now, there's Avery, with so much separation anxiety I don't know what to do with it, some days!  And that's just my own...  Haha.  Avery and I have bonded and we've been able to make those emotional connections I longed for with Noah.  I have become the absolute, number one, most important person in his life....  Well, until Daddy gets home in the evenings, anyway!

It was so difficult to leave Avery for the first time.  I knew it was for the best and I knew I had to be strong, no matter how hard he cried.  And wow, did he cry!  And yes, I cried too.  Avery was much younger than Noah was the first time I left him, so the books and photo album weren't really a concept he could grasp. Still, as I handed my screaming, struggling, frightened infant over to his teachers, I would cover him in kisses, hug him tight, tell him I'd miss him and that Mommy always comes back, then I would turn the corner of his room at his daycare and stand there, listening to my child sob as his teachers tried their best to console him, while trying my best to stifle my own sobs. Oh, it hurt to hear my child like that!  I was certain the guilt was going to kill me. I took comfort in knowing that Avery was well cared for and well loved while in their care, but it didn't ease the hurt of leaving him in such apparent distress.  Several weeks in, I realized that he would cry just long enough for me to turn the corner (and feel guilty for leaving him!), then climb off his teacher's lap and begin to play.  Things got much better and soon we were able to leave him in the nursery at church without tears, too (ours, not his!).  Avery began to look forward to his days away from Mommy and was thriving during his time with his friends and teachers, both at church and at daycare.

Things have ground to a halt again over the past several months.  Avery still loves going to his daycare, but has begun fighting us on everything else, especially his church classroom and our Mommy and Me playgroup.  And it hurts to hear my baby scream for me.  I love that he needs me, and I know he is in great hands, but this has become so painful.  I get that painful, hiccup-y feeling in my chest; that shallow, fast breathing when you hear your child crying in pain, fear or distress.  He stands at the door with his hands stretched up to be picked up, yelling, "MOMMY!  I NEED YOU!" I was describing this feeling to a friend and she said that just hearing me describe his crying and the feeling I had gave her that feeling, reminding her of when her daughters would cry like that.

Shawn and I have been taking classes on Sunday mornings before the service, so Avery is in his classroom a little longer than Sunday mornings in the past.  Making it even more difficult, my classroom and Shawn's classroom are both directly across from Avery's.  We can hear him screaming and crying after we drop him off.  He waits at the door to his classroom the entire hour of our class, just waiting for us to come out of our classrooms.  The past few Sundays, we haven't been strong enough to leave him.  The first morning, I plastered a smile on my face, told him how much I love him and that I'd see him soon.  Through the fellowship hall, behind the door and into the sanctuary, I could still hear him screaming for me.  I went back and got him, even though I knew he was in there being snuggled and loved on.  That was my baby!  The following Sunday, the same thing happened.  When I snuck back to check on him, he wasn't being snuggled and loved.  He was still standing at the other door with his little arms reached up, crying and yelling for me, waiting for me to come back.  Again, I retrieved my child.  In defense of his teachers, he wasn't making much sense and was crying for his baby.  He'd taken Moonbeam to church that morning, and his teachers, not realizing it was his doll, had packed it away with the other toys when they'd cleaned up.  There was no way his teachers could have understood that he was crying, "My Moonbeam!  MOMMY!  I NEED YOU!  MY MOONBEAM!"  Last Sunday, his teachers shut the door near our classrooms after we dropped him off.  Thankfully, not being able to see our classrooms or us helped Avery with his anxiety and fears.  He survived the entire two hours in his classroom without us.

Sunday morning rolls around again in just a few hours.  We'll see how that goes!  Please say a prayer that we're strong enough to leave our baby!