“Finding Martin” (Sylvie Masclaux)

Everything was so easy with Louise. She was my first child, she taught me how to be a mother, and I enjoyed exploring motherhood, even in its painful and frustrating days. On top of things, my life was changing. I had momentarily stopped working; my husband, new baby, and myself were moving countries; and we went from downtown to the suburbs. I have a notebook dedicated to my daughter — with on one side, a journal of pregnancy and delivery and on the other side, more practical things about her development. The journal side has many entries.

When Louise turned three, I was exactly nine months pregnant. My second child, Martin, was due October 1st, the exact same due date as Louise. (It could make you wonder if January 1st is a special date under my roof.) Nevertheless, Louise was three— she was speaking, potty trained, and a mountain of fun. I wondered, “Why can’t I have my second child at this enchanting age of three?”

Could I skip the agony of the first months, the ones during which you wish you were having a root canal instead of rocking a screaming, helpless infant while eventually screaming with helplessness yourself? Could I skip the one-year-old phase, when everything is a mess, when your house becomes childproof, also known as decoration-free? Could I skip the terrible twos, when the tantrums hit, when you apologize for your child’s behavior as soon as you appear in public? Could I have my baby shower cake and eat it too? No, that’s just not the way it is. Most human babies are born after 9 months of pregnancy, and I was ready to give birth anyway, with a back that ached day and night and a belly as big as my 4-foot-11 frame could stand.

Martin was born 12 days late. I thanked him for the timing because I worked until the due date, so the delay gave me time to relax. Actually, I like to think that I gave birth to Martin because there were only 45 minutes from hospital front door to baby out my door, so I toughed it out. I pushed as hard as it hurt, and I gave him birth. I was very proud of this delivery since the first one had needed more medical assistance. It seemed like a good start.

After the regular sleepless first months, though, I could not feel for Martin the intimacy I had quickly recognized with Louise. I missed that natural bond; I resented the flat feelings I had for my son. I waited for the intimacy to happen. While waiting, I worked full time again and went out at night quite frequently. When people around me called me “super-Mom” because I was so active, I smiled, knowing that my frenzy was an escape more than an enjoyment of life.

Of course, I felt guilty; I am a specialist in guilt. I felt guilty for the lack of motherhood I felt for my son, and I felt guilty for clearly preferring to spend time with my daughter than with my son. I felt guilty because Martin’s notebook only contains a handful of pages of journal. I tried to rationalize, I sought help in my husband, and I found the support I needed to hang in there and wait. I wondered when I would know that I really loved my child as my own.

I knew I was rather cerebral and connecting with a one-year-old or two-year-old on an intellectual level can be challenging. I was patient, or at least somewhat patient. It was so easy for perfect strangers to stop in the street to comment on Martin’s charming looks, so why wasn’t it easy for me to want to love him more?

In Martin’s notebook, on the development part, there is an entry that reads: “two-year-old: speaks in two-word assemblies.” Then, the next entries go: “two years and a half: three-word sentences,” then a month later: “complete sentences, tells me about his day.” He was speaking. He was speaking to me. I couldn’t get enough of it. He was giving me flowers, or rather dried leaves, and telling me they were for me. There it was. I wanted to be with him, for I had at last found the connection that I had missed until then. It was only words.

There are still times when I am just ready for the moment when the children will be in bed, but I don’t feel guilty then because I know it means I have enjoyed the day with Louise and Martin.

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