Separation Anxiety

I dropped my daughter off at my mother's house this morning, per our normal routine. She (my daughter...although maybe my mom, too, I don't know) was in a fantastic mood today. She was giggling and cuddling and just generally breaking my heart. I gave her extra hugs and goodbye kisses. And she, that little sweetness, blew me kisses at the door...her "new thing."

I won't see her again till tomorrow night. John and I are "on the road again" to NYC for another doctor's appointment. We will leave tonight after work and drive down to stay over-night with his gracious cousins in Brooklyn. Then we will head into the City tomorrow morning and drive home afterward. This is a trip I am quite sick of taking. But, this doctor, the pain specialist, seems to be helping John a little. So we will go. And we will leave G behind with Grandma and Grandpa.

I am slightly more anxious this time away from her. I hate that in her short 18 month old life I have had to spend far more nights away from her than I would prefer. And I know that I am still so much luckier than some mothers who have to endure long separations from their children due to illness, war, family disputes, and any number of other traumatic events. There have been the nights away in NYC. The nights that John was in the hospital and it was just easier to have her stay at a grandparents' house so I could stay at the hospital late and go back early. And there have been the nights when we have chosen to have her stay with someone so that we can have "a night off, a night to ourselves," necessary, and enjoyed, but there is always that part of my heart that just can't settle down, can't stop feeling like a vital part is missing.

I am more apprehensive today because we had a bad experience on Sunday. I took her to the nursery at church for the first time. Normally we keep her with us during the service. We sit in the back and bring quiet toys for her. She can get a little loud, but the wonderful folks at our church don't seem to mind. But Sunday we decided that maybe it would be best to give the nursery a try. I took her down and she was the only kid there. The nursery lady, Julie, seems wonderful and was delighted to have G. I stayed for several minutes and played with toys. G acted a little clingy when I left, but I gave her kisses and waved goodbye and she seemed ok. I stood out in the hall for several minutes as Julie played with her. I went back to the pew and nudged John, told him he should go check on her soon. And I fretted. I worried that she might be unhappy. I had horrible thoughts about Julie and what I don't know about her. I didn't pay a lick of attention to the sermon, I can tell you that.

John went down to check on her after the sermon was over. He came back up with her a few minutes later. As soon as she saw me, her little chin began to tremble and then she burst out sobbing. I took her, and she was literally wracked with tears. She was crying so hard she couldn't catch her breath. I took her to the side room and walked around, hugging her, shushing her, singing, just trying to get her to settle down. She finally did, but she kept doing that little sobby inhale every few minutes, shaking a little. That girl was scared to death. And I felt completely, 100% awful.

John said she burst into tears the minute she saw him come in the nursery door. I don't know if she just thought she would never see us again, or didn't understand what was going on, or what. I just felt so horrible that I caused her that much fear and anxiety. She was only down there for 15 minutes at the most, and I know it had to happen sometime. But, still. It was awful.

And now I need to leave her again. And she won't understand why. She won't know for sure that I'm coming back soon. And though she'll be with Grandma, and thank God for that, she won't be with me.

I well and truly H.A.T.E this part of parenting. The leaving. The separation. It just feels so unnatural to me. Everyday. Still. I feel a little guilty, a little heart-broken when I drop her off in the morning. Throughout the day I get twinges of my own separation anxiety. I constantly feel like I am walking around with hole in my chest, or missing a limb. Just not all there. Not all right. (Insert lame joke here...) When, exactly, does this become easier? When do I stop missing her every moment that she isn't with me? When do I become grateful for the babysitter to come over for an evening, the school bus to roll up on the first day of school, the friend who says "go shopping or get a pedicure, I'll watch her for a while"?

I admit that sometimes I really DO need a break. This child, though wonderful, is not always sweet and charming. She can be whiny. She can be loud. She can get on my nerves a little bit. And sometimes, as much as I would like to play, or even cuddle, there are moments that I just WANT TO BE ALONE, or read a chapter in a book, or go online for a few minutes. I need those times, just like anyone else. But as soon as they are handed to me I feel sad and I miss her. It's not even a guilty feeling, really. I know it's normal to need a break from your kids. It's just more like I get so few moments with her that I don't want to loose a single one. Even when I need a break. Does that make any sense? How long does this separation anxiety last?