I’m 48 and have been given another chance of love and family. I wanted a young wife because you know. “You’re only as young as the girl you feel.” And they smell nice, soft skin, youthful enthusiasm. And I have the maturity of a teenager a lot of the time.
I didn’t really want babies, but I wanted a woman that wanted babies. I remember how motherhood changed my previous partner for the better. And I knew that I would fall in love and want to have a baby to the woman I loved.
I stepped up during pregnancy more than I had in the past. I was really there for my wife Ricky. Our baby boy was born at home and within a week Ricky’s mum was there with us and pretty much took over looking after him. Within a few weeks we were back to our old routine of going out to restaurants every night. It was a bit weird. No broken sleep, no washing or changing nappies, grandma did everything. I would just play with him occasionally.
Then we moved to Lombok, grandma went home to Jakarta, and we thought simple. We can look after a 6 month year old. I mean I have done it before in a previous life I can hardly remember. A month later we were totally beside ourselves. I was so useless at looking after a baby. Ricky had to work out everything for herself. Every time I tried to help I just got in the way. In the end we decided I would just sit there and keep her company while she did the work, maybe pass her a nappy or wipe if she asked.
Something needed to change. Grandma was keen to come back so I tapped out. Now I could get back to work and do what I felt I was best at and I truly believed that my baby would get much better care from her than me anyway. We built an extension to the side of our villa to give her a granny flat and looked forward to happy days ahead.
There I was back on dates with Ricky and enjoying playing with my baby when I wanted again instead of looking after him full-time. A few months went past and Grandma wanted to go to a church retreat. We were a bit sick of Grandma living with us anyway, even with a granny flat it was a bit close. So we booked her a one way ticket to Jakarta. We’ve got this. He’s older now. We can do it.
A month later we are both exhausted. Again! I decided I had to change. Business was ok. I could work part-time and look after my baby. What an opportunity. He’s not going to be a baby for long anyway. I don’t want to miss it. I changed my schedule and took the morning shift. I would get him up when he awoke and he liked to just rest on my chest for a few minutes to wake up, it was nice. I would then change him and let him crawl around the floor and play with his toys – empty cardboard boxes and plastic bottles were his favourite. I would finish off my emails and maybe even do a few tasks until he began to squawk and then we would have some breakfast.
Always the multitasker (or perhaps just not wanting to be too intimate – or bored) I would listen to podcast while feeding him mashed pawpaw, dragon fruit, and toast. Once breakfast was finished back to crawling and playing while I tried to get some work done, until he got bored again so I would take him for a bit of a walk around the neighbourhood and continue with my podcast.
We’d come home and I’d hand him over to mum and then lock myself in my office so I could get some peace and quiet and carry on with my oh so very important business. What a charmed life. What a perfect plan. The problem was it wasn’t always so easy. Often by the time I was ready to start work in earnest I was exhausted. I had given him the main focus of my day. I might only have a few peak hours and he had been given them all. I can get by with doing very little work and I thought, why shouldn’t he get the best part of me each day? And for the most part I did enjoy it.
I would continue with work as best I could, finish up in the afternoon, and then spend time with my wife and him. My routine had always been work and spend time with my wife in the afternoon; walk along the beach, restaurant, or Netflix. Now it was 3 of us. Yay! I should be loving this. And we have a pool. Yay! It was just hard to enjoy. Instead of my wife focussing on me like she had in the past, now she was busy with another man. She was doing a good job, but tired all the time, and our intimacy was gone. I was tired all the time and felt like a failure. I was hardly working in my business and instead doing a lousy job of looking after my baby and wife.
I can do this, I thought. It will get better. I was acutely aware that I had felt these feelings only a few years earlier when my (now deceased) teenage son got sick and the family took shifts to care for his every need; tube feeding, washing, medication, walking him in his wheelchair etc. I wanted to enjoy the time I had with my son and wanted to be better at looking after him, but the more I did it the more I hated it. His mum (my ex) pushed me away and I let her. I tapped out then and said I couldn’t do it. Can I do for my new baby what I couldn’t do for my son who just passed?
I started to disassociate. I would sit and stare at the pool and feel numb. My thoughts would slow, but I wasn’t really meditating, I was gone somewhere in the ether. I lost all feeling; love, affection, compassion, empathy. It wasn’t even that unenjoyable. It was a void of emptiness. I was able to retain obligation and duty so I knew I wasn’t going anywhere, but in truth most of me had already gone, just my body remained.
I looked at myself from the outside like an impartial stranger. How did you get here? You wanted a hot young wife to make you feel sexually relevant and keep you out of trouble. You thought you would give her a baby so she could have a play thing and stop being so demanding on your attention. Now you have to look after the baby and lost the wife, I thought with a chuckle. At least I haven’t lost my humour.
There was almost some solace in my despair. That which can’t continue can’t continue. Change was around the corner. I just couldn’t think what it was, my IQ felt like it had halved. I knew enough to know this would pass.
“Baby I can’t do this anymore.”
“I know.” She said with a washed out emotionless face that looked like I felt.
Over the next week we rented grandma a little house less than a 5 minute walk from ours and then flew to Jakarta and rented 2 apartments. One for me and wife and one for grandma and baby. I wake up. It’s quiet. I don’t have the anxiety that our baby will scream any minute. I do my morning routine; clean teeth, yoga, meditation, journal, and start my days’ work. I get so much more work done. I enjoy it.
Wife sleeps in and goes next door to visit him. She comes back an hour later with him and I have a break from work. He is happy to see me, smiling broadly showing off his round baby teeth. We play on the floor with his toys. This is awesome. “I’m going to get back to work.” I say. “OK Baby. I’ll go back to mums.” She says.
Within a week we are well settled in. I work in the morning while Ricky visits here mum and then in the afternoon I meet them on the 5th floor facilities where he can play on the kids playground. There is a massive pool meandering between the 5 towers housing the 6000 residential units and a walking track with city views around the perimeter. I play with him in the playground for a bit and then go for a walk and a swim. The balmy city air of Jakarta blows against me. I feel good from head to toe. Oh how things can change.
I go back to see baby boy playing happily in the playground with Ricky and Grandma dutifully watching over him. He gives me his big smile as he sees me approach and I realise how happy he is. He has put on weight too – Grandma likes to feed him. I look at Ricky who looks relaxed and happy too. She smiles at me with a sparkle in her eyes and a glow in her cheeks. Completely different to the washed out, sleep deprived, vacant gaze of only a week earlier. This is how I want to live. I want to spend my work time working on my business, not looking after babies. I want my wife back and I want to enjoy my son, but not look after him. Does this make me a bad person? Maybe. I can’t expect Grandma to do everything for him. We will have to help a bit.
I stand next to Ricky as we watch our baby boy play happily in the playground. “I’ll be honest. This has been the best week I’ve had in ages. How do you feel? Do you miss not having Noah so much?”
“No. I love mum looking after him and just visiting. But I feel a bit guilty.” She says with a sheepish grin.
“I feel a bit guilty too.” I say. “But not that guilty. I’d feel less guilty if we had a someone there to help her. I really only have to pay them a fraction of my income. If it can give me a few hours extra work a week and allow me to focus undisturbed on the work I am doing then that’s a good deal.”
“OK. If you think so.”
We have a great couple of weeks and fly back to Lombok. Grandma was a bit offended we didn’t want her living with us, but approved of the house. It took a few days for her to settle in, but by the end of the week it was like she had always lived there. I had the house to myself all morning with few disruptions and felt like I could actually do the work that needed to be done to provide for all these people.
We go out for dinner at the end road sitting on the beachfront restaurant watching the sunset.
“I think I’m pregnant.” She says. “Are you mad?”
“No.” I chuckle. “Why would I be mad? We have pretty cute kids. God didn’t give us much of a pause did he. Oh well. I’m not getting any younger – either are you, might as well pop them out now.”
Red Pill Recovery 