My husband and I always wanted a son. When our John was born, we were over the moon. It so happened that the delivery was hard and after the doctors’ quick and sloppy work I was told that I would not have children anymore. I think that’s what made us care and worry more about our son. How many stories are there about sick kids, how many stories are there about kids who took a wrong turn and ruined their lives? We were very afraid of becoming parents of a “lost” child and so we gave him enough attention and love.
As a child, John was a wonderful, very loving boy. My heart still aches when I remember him: “Mommy, you’re the best mommy in the world!” – for no reason or prompting. It could easily have been heartbreaking.
We didn’t send John to kindergarten, but we took him to preschool classes from the age of four, so he could learn to read and minimally count. We didn’t try to stress him out with any extra activities, but we encouraged him to play guitar or basketball. We spared no expense on toys, tools for him, or fancy clothes.
Thanks to a new phone and the fact that my husband drove John to school every morning in a “cool” car, he was popular with the kids at school later in life. He had a lot of friends, but we always controlled what they were. For a long time we didn’t let him go out late, we didn’t leave him unsupervised and uncared for. But as a teenager, he began to fight back on his own: his grades deteriorated, the first swear words began to slip into his speech. His new interests like screaming music shocked him. Finding common ground became more difficult.
Familiar people said it would pass, you just had to wait it out for thirteen, then fourteen, or the rest of high school… And John didn’t show up home for the first night at sixteen. Without warning he stayed with some friend for the night. He had a lot of fun there. I came home early in the morning, smelling like a beer keg, with cigarettes and condoms in my backpack. I don’t know what to do or think. I’m at a loss. My husband tried to punish John by depriving him of his allowance and threatening to not pay for university. And then John said:
– I don’t have to. I will start my own band and travel the world. And I’ll never have children, so I won’t become ancestors like you in any case!
To some it may not seem a bit offensive, but I have tried very hard to be a good mother. Where did I make a mistake? Was my attention too much and did I fail to see what my son needed?
I felt like I had missed my child and there was no going back…
