From the moment my son uttered his first word, “Dada,” I knew I was in for a journey. His first sentence, “I want Dada,” quickly evolved into “Where’s Dada?” It seems that Dada is the one who constructs towering block structures and brings his favorite truck book to life. When it’s bath time or bedtime, it’s always Dada he seeks. Each morning, the first name he calls out is Dada, and as he drifts into that serene sleep only toddlers seem to master, Dada is the last image in his mind.
It’s hard to pinpoint when my son’s fervent attachment to my partner, Mark, began, but as time passes, it’s become increasingly clear that he prefers Mark’s company over mine. This preference has left me feeling rejected and heartbroken.
As a mother, it feels deeply unnatural to not be the one my child runs to when he tumbles and scrapes his knee. Dada’s comforting kisses seem to work wonders, while mine often provoke more tears. Dada has the power to elicit the biggest smiles and the most infectious laughter.
On good days, I find their bond incredibly charming and am genuinely thrilled for the companionship they share. They are partners in mischief, always laughing and inventing games with rules that seem to escape me entirely.
However, on my difficult days, I find myself in tears and contemplating whether I should seek professional help for the feelings of inadequacy that consume me in my own home. When I share my experiences with other moms, they respond with jealousy: “I’d love it if my kids favored their dad! I can’t get a moment to myself.” “Count your blessings. My toddler clings to me all day.” “I wish I could hear ‘Dadddd’ instead of ‘Mooommm’ for once.”
These remarks, while likely well-intentioned, only deepen my sense of isolation. I feel like the only mother who isn’t at the center of her child’s world, which amplifies my feelings of failure.
I know my child intimately. I understand his quirks, like how he only eats grapes if I slice them in half or how the car ride is the surefire way to coax him into a nap. I know he despises sleeping with socks and that he’s not shy—just observant when it comes to new kids. And I’m fully aware that he loves me.
After all, he resided in my body for nine months, and for six more months, he depended on me for nourishment. We share a bond that only a mother and child can possess.
When it’s just the two of us, our moments are precious. We visit the local bakery for bagels every Sunday to give Mark a break from the little one who is usually attached to his legs. We share laughter, sing songs, and genuinely enjoy our time together.
Yet, during our family time, it’s starkly evident that my son always chooses Mark. It’s a painful truth.
Mark is aware of my struggles with being labeled “The Unchosen Parent.” He encourages our son to come to me when he needs something. When our son approaches Mark with a book, Mark gently suggests, “Why don’t you ask Mommy to read that? Her animal voices are way better than mine.” And yet, my son never takes the bait, leaving Mark reading while I sit there with a forced smile, my heart aching a bit more.
This phase, like many in parenthood, will likely pass. Motherhood is a rollercoaster of joy and challenge, where overwhelming phases, like sleepless nights or teething troubles, eventually give way to delightful milestones like gummy smiles and self-feeding triumphs.
As we navigate this journey, I remind myself that this too shall pass, and I look forward to the day when my son’s affections will once again be shared more equally. Mark is eager for that day, and so am I.
For more insights on family dynamics and parenting, check out our post on the at-home insemination kit. If you want to learn about emotional support during conception, visit Make a Mom, an expert in this field. For additional resources on fertility treatments, Hopkins Medicine provides excellent information.
Summary
The article explores the emotional challenges faced by a mother feeling rejected by her child in favor of the father. It reflects on the deep bond between mother and child, acknowledges the complexities of parenting dynamics, and reassures that these feelings are part of the evolving phases of motherhood.