This week: Learn to forgive myself.
Since Chhichi came into our family last week, I’ve experienced a deeper love and a greater sense of peace. I used to look at Cal and wonder how I could love anyone as much as my amazing daughter, but now, I know that the heart has enough love for two.
Wait, are you still with me? Did I just compare buying a doll to birthing a second child? Did experiencing a hiccup in my Project psychically shatter me?
I’m feeling a lot of guilt.
I haven’t felt this much guilt since I took Cal for her one week check-up. The doctor gave Cal a thumbs up for her health, and he gave me a pat on the back for being such an amazing mother. I mean, I had managed to keep her intact for a whole week. As I left the office, I broke into a huge grin and decided to treat myself to a milkshake as a reward for my awesomeness. Parenting was a cinch. When I got to the car, I realized that something was missing. I patted my pockets down for my keys. I checked to make sure I had my purse and my baby bag. What was it?
I forgot my baby, yo.
I set Cal’s carrier down to make her next appointment, and I forgot to pick her back up. Good thing I remembered my keys. Lordy, I hate it when people are irresponsible and leave their keys all over the place.
I felt like a failure. Even now, I think about that incident. Thankfully, I am not agile enough to kick myself in the ass, but don’t think I haven’t tried.
I’ve decided not to return Chhichi. I feel a deep sense of guilt that I goofed, but I’m pushing forward.
Thanks for all of your kind words, compassion and support. Y’all are a bunch of enablers. Bless you.
Have you ever left your keys, er, baby anywhere? At the very least, someone’s got to have picked up the wrong kid from daycare. Or forgotten to pick up their kid at all? This actually happens to other moms, right? Right?!