So- Its been a very long time since I actually wrote directly to- myself. I have to write. I write only when my heart and soul have been pushed and pulled so hard that one more tug and I would crumble into a sobbing, snot soaked pile on the floor, barely resembling the strong woman that I know I am. (Besides, when you are already covered in breastmilk and spit up, adding snot to the picture is just gross.)
My son was born! It was an amazing day- filled with laughter, hope, and unbelievable pain. Pain in my body, but also in my heart. The man who promised me he would be by my side (forever, but we will just concentrate on the delivery) shows up with his mother, a woman whom I love, but alas a woman who never ever gave me a chance and determined she hated me before she ever met me in person (thank you, facebook). A woman who's last spoken words to a then pregnant me were "You might as well sign over custody of your child now because I am going to take it from you anyway." While I am not sure what world she was living in where she thought this might be possible, it was still, probably the most cruel thing you can say to someone who's one true purpose in life was to be a mother. To someone driving back after being so heartbroken and disappointed that she took her child and left the state because it was either that or continue to be the above mentioned sobbing pile of snot, minus the breast milk, and to say that while I was on my way back home, or on my way back to house that used to be home, after finding just enough healing in my heart to attempt to face the broken dream that was at this time my life. I digress...
He brought HER into my labor room, and she walks directly passed me, does not even say hello to me, or ask how I, the woman carrying her unborn grandson, was doing. She barely acknowledges anyone in the room there to support me, and proceeds to glare at me and shake her head, as if SHE has a right to be there and I- the one in labor whom GOD gave the duty to bring this child into the world, had no right to be there. The entire mood of the room changed, so much so that the midwives and nurses commented how they could not believe that kind of behavior had just occurred. Anyhow, it was not HER anger and hatred that bothered me, over the last two years or more I had learned to look passed it and love her anyway, to try and be as kind and loving as possible as this woman was the mother of the love of my life, and I was not going to come between them. It was him. He, who knew she hated me, who knew she was not there to support me, who knew that in my last labor took THREE days and I was so stressed out that my daughter's heart had nearly stopped and she had to be vaccuumed out of my body so she did not die. He KNEW all of these things, yet he brought her, with her self-righteous belief that she had a right to be there during MY labor. The fact that after all we had been through, after being completely ignored by him throughout my pregnancy despite giving him every opportunity to be a part of his son's life even before birth, telling him the date and time of every OB appointment, and having him not show up time and time again, even to the appointment revealing that our son was indeed our son and not a daughter (I told him it was a boy from day 1), that he would bring someone filled with venom toward me to my labor, and to think that it would be ok, that I would just shut up and allow this woman to bore holes into my body with her eyes for 16 hours until my son was born. I am sorry, but I am not a doormat, and I would not be walked on as she was determined to walk on me. This was to be a day filled with joy, and love, and support from the people who cared about me. The joy and love was to extend to him as well, but he refused to believe it, because I guess he could not believe after all he put me through, that my friends and I could still love and support him. So I had the nurse ask her to leave. You might think this is cowardice, but this was MY labor day. I was in charge of keeping calm so OUR son's heart did not almost stop because my body succumbed to stress, and I was not going to allow her to take that from me in any way. And it PISSED them off, so much so that I had to BEG him to come back into the delivery room, and he did not do so until I was in full on SCREAMING labor. Another thing that baffled me as to why he might have brought her- she is a strong woman who would never let her grief show or stop her from supporting her son- a quality in her, among many qualities, that I admire... but she herself had a still born, and do not quote me but I believe the last time she was in a labor room was her own, and I cannot imagine what unbelievable soul crushing painful memories that must have brought back for her, when I had spoken to her when she was by my side at one of the early ER appointments and I had said I know this baby stuff is difficult for you, and she had nodded in agreement. I cannot believe her own son would be so thoughtless as to choose her for his support... perhaps they discussed it, and perhaps she had needed to be there in some way to help her heal... and as I said before, despite her hatred for me, I loved and still love this woman, I looked up to her, and I would have let her stay if she would have simply smiled at me and said hello Megan, how are you and my grandson. I would have loved to include her in my day of joy, which the rest of the day proceeded as minus the text messages begging him to not miss his son's birth and to come back into the labor room (which he did with Chad- THANK YOU CHAD FOR BEING THERE FOR HIM, and for me.) If she would have just made an effort to be part of the rose and not the thorn, she would have been a welcome part of that day. I won't even get into the next day where she walked into my labor room less than 12 hours after I gave birth and told me that I had no choice of her being there. I did however, and the only reason I did not make her leave MY hospital room was because I would not make a scene in front of the two precious babies that I loved like my own and hadn't seen in 9 months because I was not allowed to. I would not make her leave and possibly ruin any chance for my daughter to again establish a relationship with the children and their father that she loves so much since she was three years old, and to this day still refers to as her brother and sister, and to him as her "daddy" even though she understands that "daddy" isn't coming home. These were reasons I did not assert myself and show her that I did have a choice, but the most important reason is that our son deserves to know the love of his grandmother. This strong woman, while for some reason choosing me to be on the wrong side of her revolver, is a wonderful grandmother, and loves her family to the point that if you are on the wrong side of her revolver, you better watch out. My son has a right to the love of all of his family, regardless of their feelings for me, and my need to be right far pales to my son's right to be loved. So I shut my mouth, allowed her disrespect, and let her pick up our son, because a mother never puts herself before her child. And I am a mother.
I recently discovered a pod cast in which my ex was interviewed about our relationship, and in which he revealed some moments that were very private, that he has insisted this entire time that we should keep this between ourselves and to not involve the outside. I guess I did not realize how much he must have been getting dirty looks or something, and how much he indeed cares about what people think about him despite how he professes he does not, because that is the only reason I can imagine that he would need to throw the mother of his child under the bus to make me look like an awful person and to make him look justified for leaving me. (I do care to a good extent what people think, but I write for catharsis, not for public opinion.)I am not angry that he left me, because if he wasn't happy then he should not have been with me. I am angry because he had to have known that there was a chance he would walk away from me, because in less than four weeks after making love to me with the intention of creating a life, a life that deserves the love of both parents, all siblings, and is not broken, he was gone. Less than four weeks... and yes we stopped trying for a child after that time, because with my health taking the unknown road, we decided that I should get better first. You do not promise someone their dreams, and create an innocent life knowing that you might not want to be with the person who would carry this life. You just don't do that to someone... unless you are trying to make yourself feel better. He has given me a million reasons why he left... one being an ugly text message I sent him, which is in fact the reason he is now publicly choosing to display... but a hormonal fueled text message is not something you throw away an entire relationship over, so he must have known that things were not solid. While I knew we were having our issues, I whole heartedly believed in every single word he breathed, in every kiss, in every action up until the day he left, that told me he would not walk away, that he was in this for the long haul. I believed that our issues were that of any family undergoing major stress, major changes. I had just graduated, and began a new job, and while some people may think that I was on top of the world, those changes were positive, but majorly stressful. I was now not a student, I was one of the working class, learning how to balance a budget, to take care of a family, to save enough money to give not only one child but now three children a Christmas they would remember in their new home with their new family. We were learning how to combine two seperate families into one... and that is a tough thing to do... to be under one roof that is not a temporary fix as it was before while he was looking for another place. We were both learning what it was like to be parents to these three kids, and they were learning what it was like to have to share the love with another sibling, and how to gain the love and discipline of another parent. I guess he never thought it would be that difficult... but I thought it was all part of the settling in, and didn't expect things to go smoothly at first. I guess I never really let on how petrified I really was about all my health issues either... but to have half of my body go numb periodically was frightening, especially in light of me being the only parent my daughter can rely on. The thought of something happening to me that would render me unable to take care of my baby, and to possibly not have more babies, was the scariest thing I have ever faced in my life. I remember crying to him about it one night and he admitted how frightened he was too. The only thing that got me through it, the MRI's, the lumbar puncture, the bed rest and the massive pain after the LP leaked, was knowing that he was there, and that he told me that he would always be there, and knowing that if anything ever happened to my daughter, he would take care of her, because he was now her daddy. I had faith in this man, my hero, who I was so proud of, who worked his ass off for us, at work and at home, I knew he would be there. But I really didn't know, because he never told me that he was falling out of love with me... I know he didn't quite look at me the way he used to... which is why for my birthday and christmas I asked him to give me... him... just a night out with him so we could forget that we were employees, and parents, and people with all this responsibility, and remember that we were just two people who were in love... the love that I still felt and thought he felt too... cause I mean, you don't tell someone that you want to create a life with someone if you don't love them with a forever kind of love, do you? I didn't think so. I trusted his words, and his love, for the first time in my life I truly trusted, and it was a mistake. Sometimes I feel foolish for that mistake, but then I say, no. I will not feel foolish, because I would rather be the person who gave everything to someone, including their body to create a life, and who's heart was broken by that person, than to be someone who never believed that that kind of love could exist. I still believe that love is out there, its just hard, even to this day, to believe it wasn't him.
I guess it is harder, holding our son, to let it all go. To look back at all the cruel things he has done to me, the silence being the worst... to all the broken promises to me, and at the broken promises to our son after I told him not to promise me anything else, and that if he wanted to make promises, to promise our unborn son... (after all, she, the new girlfriend, will never be more than a broken promise to our son, and he knows what that means), even with all of this, to not want to make our family whole again. I know that I deserve someone who has not broken me, and who would not walk away, but when a person is the least deserving of your love, isn't that the time when you should love them the most? I think so, but he does not need my love, and I can accept that. I do accept that... but it doesn't mean that the mother in me, and the dreamer in me, does not picture an alternate reality where he comes home, and I hear the kids laughing, or playing, or fighting in the background, and he is there to share the smiles of our baby boy, and he can hear the cooing, and the crying, and the sound of our son saying thank you in his baby language... thank you mom and dad for loving me, and for being there for me... because the hardest part of this all is to have imagined all these precious baby moments happening and having someone who loves this child as much as I do- is wanting to share them with someone... with the person who looked at me and said "I love you- I want to give you a baby and I want you to know what it is like to be supported during your pregnancy and to bring a baby into an intact home- I love you and you deserve to know what that feels like". The hardest part is not being able to share that with him.
So no, he should have walked away when I told him that not having a baby would be a dealbreaker... he should have walked away when I told him that I was wrong and loved him with or without a child and marriage and all my dreams, because having someone to love, and having our three (four with his oldest) children, was more of my dream than I imagined I could have, and his love was enough for me to still have the forever love without the ring and the baby carriage... he should have walked away then... instead of coming to me a week later and telling me the words that changed our lives forever... I want to create a life with you. Because I sit here, day after day, month after month, feeling every kick of our unborn son, and hearing his words, and now looking at our son, whom I would never ever take back having because he is meant to be here, and meant to be our son, and his smiles and cries, and coos and sweet baby smell make my life worth living, but I wonder what it would have been like if he had just stayed, and known what it was like to be with a woman whom had just had her dreams come true because of him...
Our son has been on the outside world for 48 days... and has only seen his father on three of them. A man who said he would stand by me through the pregnancy and to raise a child even after he left me... has not been there for anything but his first breath... and it was a fight to get him to be there for that... and no matter what I do... no matter how many pictures I send, no matter if I say I will leave him the baby for a couple hours ALONE so he can bond with our son and I won't even be there, I will just stay within a few minutes drive in case our son needs to eat or needs me... he has not had anything to do with our son. I just do not understand how he can turn off every feeling inside him and bury it God knows where (or in God knows who)... and not know his son, and not allow his son to know him... I just cannot comprehend how that can happen... it hurts me because it has to hurt him, and it does not hurt my son now, but someday it will hurt my son, and I do not want my son to be angry at his father ever.
I will survive, I am surviving,I am beginning to thrive... but some days like today I just breathe...
I want our son to know that no matter what mama said or texted or did wrong, and no matter what his father has done, or how his mother and his father hurt one another, I love Henry's father, even if I don't like him right now. ... and even if he has been cruel to me, and is not here to help or to know his son today, I still believe in him... I still believe that he will probably never come around enough to have the family I wanted, and he may never even allow himself to heal enough to be my friend... I don't even know if I am ready for that, although I will always try, but I still believe he will come around enough for our son to know his love, because no matter how imperfect, that love is huge, and my son deserves to know the love of his daddy. I want my son to know that his mother and father once had a love that neither of them imagined they could have and for awhile it was beautiful... Henry, my love, my son, my light, you were made out of love, and you are meant to be here. I love you my son. Love, your mama.
