So I will skip over the fact that we had many, many, many discussions about what went down with him and this Jen girl. We talked about it even more than it needed to be talked about. I wanted out. He begged. I ended up letting him stay, or at least agreeing to it until the baby was born in a month or so. So we went on. And I felt like an idiot. But I was busy getting ready for the princess. She was overdue, I expected this, as I didn’t want to share her. I gained 28 pounds by the time she was born, and about a week later, all of it was gone except for eight pounds…and that stayed until she was about a year old and stopped nursing. I went into labor the day I was due to be induced. Everything went well, and my eight pound, two ounce, 21 inch long baby diva arrived. And she was gorgeous. And by the way, that’s a big baby for someone my frame. 😉 I was then so busy with the munchkin and all that I didn’t really deal with the marriage. Just trudged and plodded along. He stayed home with her during the day, then I came home around 3 and the he went to work and I stayed alone with her until about 9 or 10 when he got home. AND he kept playing in the band. To save this marriage, he should have quit. But I refused to ask him to. I wasn’t going to be WHY that band fell apart…it had to be done on his own. And it never was. He offered…but never followed through. So, for three years I endured and trudged through. Baby went into the daycare at my work at a little over a year old and life went on as usual. But I never felt the same. I felt ill when I thought about it. And I had lost all respect and trust. And periodically I’d get a phone call while I was home nursing the baby, that Jen had tried to talk to him at show or was chasing his car out of the parking lot. And the major kicker…the week after this all went down and the big show-down, she sent letters and pictures to my work. I went to the mail box, saw a huge yellow envelope with my name on it and knew…so I went and got a co-worker (the only one who knew really) and told her and she said “Let’s pray”. Did I mention she’s born-again? 🙂 We prayed. And I opened. And there were all these huggy, drunk pictures of them and letters on scraps of paper…intimate letters. And typewritten letters. Those I wasn’t sure of the authenticity of, and still am not. But what was definitely legit, was the pictures and the little notes about how he missed her and loved her. And how he loved how she smelled. It sounded like he didn’t even have a wife. It sounded like what he’d write to ME! Weird. This all from the guy who came home and begged me to stay with him and professed his love and grovelled…huh? Well, still pregnant then, I called my family, called the husband…reached him and met him on my way home. It just was a mess.
So needless to say, staying for 3 years was nice. But dumb. When I finally told him that was it, that I couldn’t force it anymore…people thought I was mean to leave. They had forgotten. Something that took away the joy of the only pregnancy, the only child, the only birth I will ever experience…had been forgotten. Man people suck sometimes. I was the bad one. And still am in the eyes of his “band”. And some of his family…the rest were understanding. His Mom has been great to me…always…and very much so to my B.
But he moved out and I kept our house for three more years alone…and never really moved forward until I got out of that house. Once I did, then I really left him behind. He still lies, all the time, and I still cover for him somewhat with his daughter. I want her to believe in the father that he sometimes is-rather, than who he actually is.
So more to come, I’ve got to finish up some lab stuff.