My son, Max, is five years old. He is playful yet sensitive, kind-hearted but cautious. As my firstborn, I cherish him deeply. I express my love daily—when I greet him in the morning, when he heads off to school, at bedtime, and throughout our day together. Yet, I can count on one hand the times he’s uttered those three little words back to me.
Typically, this doesn’t trouble me; I know he loves me. His face lights up as he runs to me, joyfully shouting “Mom!” after even a brief separation. When he feels scared or upset, he instinctively reaches for my hand. He creates elaborate drawings full of monsters, hearts, and planets just for me. He confides in me about his day. Still, there are moments when I long to hear him say it.
About a year ago, shortly after his sister was born, Max went through a phase where he would declare, “I hate you.” The first time he said it, it pierced my heart. I calmly explained that those words carry weight and can hurt feelings. He seemed to get it.
Then one day, while driving home from school, we encountered a situation involving nail polish that had been gifted to his sister. When I told him he needed to ask her for permission to use it, I heard him mumble from the backseat, followed by the unmistakable: “I hate you.” We had just arrived home, and I felt the weight of his words as I silently unbuckled everyone and carried the baby inside. I went to my room and cried, feeling overwhelmed. I had given him everything—nourishment, warmth, love, and even life. I didn’t expect a “thank you,” let alone a “I love you,” but “I hate you”?
After a long while, I finally composed myself enough to come downstairs. I was ready to discuss things with him, but as soon as I saw his face, the pain surged anew, and tears flowed. Max, alarmed by my tears, cried out, “I’m sorry! Don’t cry!” But that wasn’t what I needed to hear. I needed to feel his love.
Days later, while tucking him into bed, he said, “Mom, I made a mistake. When I said I hated you? That was wrong.” I reassured him, “I know it was.” He stopped saying “I hate you” after that, but I was still left waiting for “I love you.” His sister, Lily, is much more expressive with her love; she often exclaims it without hesitation, even to relatives. One night, while talking about family, Max expressed uncertainty, saying, “I don’t know if I do.”
Love is complicated. How do you explain it to a logical child who thinks deeply? I thought I had moved past needing verbal affirmations from him, but then came Monday. My husband typically drops Lily off at school while I take Max, which is challenging since their schools are in opposite directions. As we left, we saw Lily’s face pressed against the window, sobbing. I told Max, “She’s really sad right now; it’s hard for her when Daddy drops her off.” To my surprise, he replied, “I like Daddy.” Then he added, “I like Daddy more than you.” Ouch.
I said calmly, “That’s not very nice. That hurts my feelings.” Flustered, he replied, “I mean, I don’t know. I like both of you.” Internally, I thought, “Like? Really, like?” (And maybe a twinge of, “You don’t know who brought you into this world!”) Out loud, I said, “You don’t need to choose who you like more.”
I let it go, but deep down, I really wanted to hear him say it. Why was it so difficult for him to express love for me? He can easily declare his affection for Ninja Turtles or new markers, but not for me? After a few moments, I said, “I love you. I really love you a lot. I know you don’t like to say it, but I feel you love me too.”
In the rearview mirror, I caught his gaze; he bowed his head as if to shake it in denial but then looked up with tears in his eyes and reached out his hand from the back seat. There was no way for our hands to touch, but I reached back, jokingly quoting a show, “I can’t…reach…you.” We both laughed, and though he didn’t say it, I knew he felt it.
For more insights on navigating parental emotions and home insemination, you can explore resources like Cryobaby’s at-home insemination kit and ICI Blog, which offers valuable information. Additionally, the UCSF Center serves as an excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary
Navigating the emotional landscape of parenting can be challenging, particularly when seeking affirmation from our children. While a child’s love may not always be expressed verbally, their actions often speak volumes. The journey of understanding and accepting these dynamics can be filled with ups and downs, yet love remains a powerful bond that transcends words.