DUMPED

I’m better off. There were things, lots of things that I ignored. I always make things sound better than they are. Of course you could always do worse… there’s worse out there… I’ve had worse. Maybe we should try again, see if we can make it work. I mean after all, we both love the baby so much, or so I thought… I wonder what I did wrong. I wonder if I should call. I wonder where I have some chocolate…damned healthy house, not a Dorito in sight. No, I’m not calling. It’s over… I deserve an explanation, but I’ll have settle for a new pair of shoes…ooh, how bout a pizza! I need something because getting dumped like this, without so much as a reason why... “It’s all my fault, it’s not you, it’s me…” total bullshit. It’s me isn’t it? I did something. Sometimes I say things…I don’t mean to…Well it’s all water under the baby now isn’t it? An explanation won’t change history. I have to move forward now. I have to be strong.... I have to eat a donut. That’s what I have to do. Maybe then I can figure out why my Nanny left me.

I’ve never been lucky in staff. Two hours into working for me on the 2nd day of my son’s life, my $250 a day baby nurse informed me she needs four hours off every morning and 4 days off the following week and my first nanny was sick 5 out of the 8 weeks she worked for me. So when I met Dalia, I was gun-shy, wounded from the last nanny gone awry. I vowed never to need someone that much again. “I won’t commit to full time,” I told myself assuming that a 3-day a week nanny could be kept at a distance. But with each passing day of witnessing Dalia’s gentle way with my son, I slowly thawed. I made myself vulnerable and let her in.

And then out of the blue, I get a phone call. A stranger claiming to be her “cousin” says, “Dalia won’t be coming to work today. She can’t tell you why. She asked me to call to tell you.” I wonder what that means. Is she just not coming to work today or everyday? Days before, we were laughing and reminiscing about play dates and purees. But now, she’s gone without a trace, leaving my keys in my mailbox without so much as a goodbye or I’ll miss you. By days end, I’m mainlining junk food; just days away from a full on break up-butt, the thought of a nanny-less life just too much for me to bear.

I begin to question my judgment. “How could I have thought we had something when clearly she was cheating on us with another family?” I tell myself as I replay our months together over and over in my head looking for a sign, a red flag, a something that I should have seen. But there is nothing, there were no signs. And as much as I try to forget, I can’t get her out of my head. I turn on the TV only to find HBO featuring “The Black Dahlia.” I can’t watch, I can’t hear her name. I read the Times’ book review, but stop when I see the review of a new novel, “The Last Dahlia.” It seems that my Dalia is gone, but reminders of her are everywhere. And while I know I need to put the past behind me and accept that she’s gone, I just can’t. I want her back. I can’t go through this heartbreak again.

It’s not just being left without help that sends me into a tailspin; it’s the loss for our family and for my son. Sure my boy is little and may not know the difference, but I do. I can feel the loss for him. This is the first of many losses he’ll encounter in his life. He’ll lose friends, family members, someday his parents. Then, he’ll be old enough to feel the burn of having someone leave your life without a goodbye or an explanation. He’ll know what it’s like to go through an experience with someone, think you’re close, only to find that person was passing through your life and you haven’t made an impact. Sure finding the right nanny is hard work, but finding out you meant nothing to someone you cared about his harder. It’s heartbreaking to say goodbye, but worse to find out you were irrelevant. And ultimately, I’m to blame. By bringing someone into our home, I’ve brought loss into my son’s life. Even though he doesn’t yet know how to say hello, he now has to learn how to say goodbye.

I resolve to move forward. At minimum I’ll be teaching my son that a break-up doesn’t have to break you. You get back on the horse, put yourself out there, and try to love again. So I put it out there. “I’m looking, I’m ready to try,” I tell friends. I even think I’ll bite the bullet, ignore the clichés, and go through an online staffing service. “It’s the way everyone’s finding someone now,” I tell myself. Sure enough, resumes and referrals come at me in droves. But after my first interview, a 400-pound woman with a mustache who refers to my son as “chubby,” I realize how much I miss Dalia. She was kind, hard working, gentle, and had no obvious facial hair. She was perfect for our family, I’m only sorry we weren’t perfect for her.

A few days later my phone rings. It’s Dalia and she’s crying. It seems that the other day when she was leaving for work, her husband informed her that he was leaving her life. They sheared 15 years, 3 children and he left with no explanation and no closure. I want to tell her I understand how she feels, the shock, the confusion, the resentment of being left without an explanation, but truthfully you can’t compare the loss of a trusted staff member to the loss of your whole life. No one deserves to be dumped, left to pick up the pieces of their own bad judgment, left to explain to their baby why they have to say goodbye, why they don’t matter.

As much as I want her to return to work to take care of my baby, I know that she’s got her hands full with her own. Hopefully she’ll be back with us, we’d hate to lose her. But just in case, I’ve got some work to do on of my own. So out go the Doritos, the Flaky Flix, and the bulk Cheetos. I’ve got to get in shape, just in case I need to start seeing other nannies.