The 2 Days of my son’s life I remember most clearly are the day he was born, and the day I let him go

Sitting here in front of my computer today, glaring meaningfully at a scrap of a former Cricut Infusible Ink transfer sheet in the vague form of an X-box. This is my second attempt at this t-shirt – my 4th if you count its 2022 and 2024 heat transfer vinyl counterparts.

Joey gets a t-shirt every year for his birthday. Hand made – well, hand-ironed on, sometimes custom designed. Although to be fair, I have cheated a couple times with Amazon.com, usually the few times I wasn’t able to be there in person for Joey’s birthday – COVID, neck surgery (long story), bi-lateral carpal tunnel release surgery (another long story), a mid-March Nor’Easter.

I have them all, too. I’ve saved them. I’m going to turn them into a set of memory quilts using an ancient quilt I made that became Joey’s favorite when he spent the entire summer up here in 2020.

Remember in when I told you we all have that friend, and that I’m her?

I digress…again…

Level 23 Unlocked!

Has it been that long already? For confirmation, I look up to shelf above my desk to the silver-framed photo of Joey at 2 months and then down at the more recent on the wall behind me.

Yeah, it has… 23 years ago I was staring at my baby bump saying, “C’mon honey, Mommy wants to see her feet again.”

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I did not expect Joey to arrive on his actual due date, that never happens. I had hoped for early, or at least not, following in the footsteps of both his parents, 2 weeks late. Those didn’t happen either. My son, the master of compromise even in utero it seems, arrived exactly one week after his due date.

Supposedly, you stop recalling things exactly as they were over time. There are things – both my weddings, the restaurant my husband took me to on our first date, the restaurant Joey’s father took me to on our first date, the first time I met my old boss at SimplexGrinnell – I can remember but not pull up a clear picture of.

I can see, clearly, any time I think of it, the first time I met my son.

After 30 hours of labor. Joey took his own sweet time joining the world outside my womb. I was cursing like a sailor for the first 10-20 hours of that time. They actually closed the door to my labor and delivery room; turns out those doors are actually soundproof.

The last 10 hours I just chanted “10 fingers; 10 toes; 2 eyes, a mouth and a nose.”

I don’t actually remember much about the labor itself, other than the swearing and the chanting. I just remember, at the end of it, a nurse said, “Meet your son Mrs. R–,” and putting Joey gently down on my chest.

“Hi little guy,” I said.

My son opened his newborn gray eyes and looked straight into mine.

A part of me I didn’t even know had been missing fell silently into place in my heart.

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The same heart that broke, 4 years later, in another moment I can clearly recall: the day I knew I had to let him go.

I did say earlier than when I divorced Joey’s dad, my life was a mess – or maybe I said disaster – either is rather accurate. That is what you expect to hear when you learn that a mother doesn’t have custody of their child(ren). You expect a mother without custody’s life to be a mess. You expect she’s lost custody through some fault of her own:

• She’s an alcoholic
• She’s a recovering drug-addict
• She physically abused her children
• She physically abused herself
• She has a mental health disorder like borderline personality disorder or schizophrenia
• She has a mental health disorder and refuses to stay on her meds or in therapy
• She ran off with another guy
• She abandoned her kids

I’ll grant in some cases that is true; those are the classic definitions of a life being a disaster.

Most of the time, it’s really just that Mom didn’t have the money to fight a custody battle, or she didn’t want to put her kids through a custody battle. Sadly, it’s not always assured that a court will grant residential custody to Mom anymore. Also sadly, custody battles are often decided by money: whoever has the most, and can hire the best lawyer wins.

In my case it … I pause to think for a minute. Writing this part is hard. I have had a very long road learning to let go of the guilt I felt over not fighting harder for my son; over not just staying married so I could stay with him; over all the things I did wrong 20 years ago…

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Just now my ex-husband calls, breaking my train of thought. I’m actually wondering why my current husband hasn’t come up to my home office to do that yet. I so rarely get time alone to do anything on a weekend.

Anywhoo, Leading Man #4 (bumped from #3 by the dog) is out with my son today. “Joey, say hi to Mommy.”

A gruff 23 year old voice comes on the line, “Hi Mom.”

“Hey Leading Man #1! What are you guys up to?”

“Oh, we’re just going to lunch and then the game store,” my ex cuts in cheerfully. “Say, what are we going to do about college transportation? Are we still using the same service?”

“We’re switching, but after spring break,” I reply.

“Ok, well let me know what I need to do,” TheEx says.

“Will do.”

“Ok, say goodbye to Mommy, Joey.”

“Bye, Mom.”

“Bye sweetheart. Have a great time today!”

I wish I was there with him.

I have to finish this t-shirt!

–CMR