By Anonymous Mom
One afternoon, a song titled “Bye, Mom” played on the radio, echoing the poignant feeling of a mother witnessing her children grow and venture out into the world. I was engulfed by sadness, realizing that my heart aches not just at the thought of my kids growing up, but also for my four-year-old daughter who leaves every other weekend. In that moment, I understood that I would hear “bye, Mom” far more often than I ever wished.
Those feelings stirred something deep within me, prompting reflections on the burden that comes with every other weekend and the heartache it brings a mother.
Every other weekend, I pick you up from school on Friday, racing home to cherish the brief hours we have together before you leave again. I make sure to pack your belongings meticulously, knowing it tears me apart not being there to assist you if you need anything. As the clock ticks down, I watch the minutes pass, and my tears flow harder.
Every other weekend, I see you kiss your brothers and your stepdad goodbye, and they cling to you as you walk out the door. I hold you for as long as you allow, desperately trying to hide my tears, even though you’re aware of my struggle. When I spot the truck pulling up, I fight the urge to pull you back inside.
Every other weekend, I watch my entire world walk down the sidewalk, catching a last glimpse of your small frame and blonde hair. I witness your little brother throw himself onto the floor, heartbroken that you’ve left, and it shatters me even more as he asks where you are throughout the weekend—something I can’t bear to answer.
Every other weekend, as you pull away, I send a prayer into the universe. I hope for your happiness, health, and safety in my absence, praying that you always feel how much you are loved and missed. I become numb with thoughts of what you’re doing—are you watching TV? Playing outside? Are you happy or sad?
Every other weekend, I put on a brave face as family members notice my sadness and ask, “You miss her, don’t you?” I tidy up your room, making it perfect for your return, finding solace in being surrounded by your things.
Come Monday after “every other weekend,” I rush to school to collect you, unable to wait another moment. I pull you close and hold you tightly until it’s time for you to leave once more. I know this is how it must be, and while people say I should get accustomed to it, from day one, you’ve been my girl, and I prefer having you near me rather than apart. Those two weeks with you fly by, and I dread the heartache that accompanies every other weekend.
If you’re navigating similar feelings as a mom, you might find valuable insights on pregnancy and home insemination here. Additionally, for those curious about fertility options, this resource offers excellent information. For more engaging content, check out one of our other blogs here.
Summary
Navigating shared custody brings profound emotional challenges for mothers. The bittersweet moments of saying goodbye every other weekend can feel overwhelming, as mothers grapple with feelings of sadness and longing for their children. Each departure is a reminder of the love and connection that persists, despite the physical distance.
Leave a Reply