Given what I know now, I can’t believe how foolish I was. And naive. I defended my then-husband right down to the wire. I covered up that he wasn’t living with me (and later found out everyone knew anyway). I was furious with my obstetrician’s office, which wrote on my chart in pretty big letters “husband not living with her, high stress”. It was embarrassing. I felt like every time I went in for a check up there was a big pity party. I often brought BsDaddy lunch at work (he worked evenings, so theoretically it was dinner) and then I would buy him a shirt or something and bring that too…I was nurturing HIM, when I should have been being nurtured. I promised him we would get him feeling better. Only my closest friends knew I was living alone in the height of my pregnancy with my little B. Nights, I would lie in bed, reading aloud to my ever-expanding middle, feeling her move and talking to her. I always told her “It may be just the two of us girly, but your Mommy will make sure you never go without. You’ll have everything a little girl needs and your Mommy loves you more than anything ever”. She started moving and seemed to love classical music and oddly enough, Rage Against the Machine. What a mix. She’s still like that. Diverse in musical genre. We bonded over those several months. I worked on the nursery with my Mom, had a baby shower at work, and two others, one with the in-laws and one with my family. It was all coming together, except for the marriage.
One day, my parents were at my house and the husband stopped in and was stalking through the house, grabbing things left and right, all attitude and very weird. He freaked out thinking we hid his shoes on him, so he couldn’t leave…and really he’d just forgotten where they were. He threw out a McDonald’s bag in my garbage and stormed off in his truck. My parents just sat there, completely stunned. He was a totally different person. Finally, I had him take an online test to diagnose depression and he scored severely depressed. He went to the doctor and got medication. Slowly he got a bit better. Some nights, he would come and stay with me and rub my back, helping me to fall asleep, but would sneak out shortly thereafter and I would awake at three am, alone in my bed. And there was never any sex during that time. No way…despite my raging horomones. I’m not THAT dumb. I remember specifically one night when he left, I sat in the middle of my kitchen floor sobbing, trying to figure out how I was going to do all of this…pay for this house, take care of this baby, go through childbirth. Sometimes I would call his parents house, where he was supposedly staying and he wouldn’t be there and they would say he was at his friends house. A friend I knew…and when I called there he wouldn’t be there…or it would be too late to call. (All before cell phones…it would be easier now to catch someone!).
One night, he came home, crawled into bed and when I awoke he said, “It’s all going to be ok, I’m back now”. He was still there when I awoke the next morning. This was May 1st, 1999. I remember acting affectionate and him saying “It’s not all better, but I’m here…we’ll be ok, it just takes time”. It was a sunny, gorgeous, beautiful morning and the birds were chirping. I thought my life was coming together finally-the future I’d dreamed of. I was so hopeful. We went outside, to wash our cars and play with our dog…(we miss you Scout)-and a black Honda drove by ever so slowly. I asked about it, and he hadn’t seen it. Then…it came back. And stopped, down by our front lawn, across from our mailbox. The window was down and a blonde yelled “BsDaddy, what the hell are you doing here?”. He quickly grabbed his shirt, put it on and walked down the lawn to the car, after telling me to just “hold on a minute”. I heard his reply to her “I LIVE here. This is my home.”. And then, I went inside. I grabbed the phone and called my in-laws house and described what was going on. My father-in-law told me to get outside and stop it right then. But I couldn’t breathe. I sank to the floor in the nursery, was having false contractions and listened through the window. What went down next shaped the rest of my life and the future of my little girl. And I felt idiotic, it seemed what others had suggested might have been true-was he having an affair while he was gone??? How could it be since I’d given him every chance to get out? And he claimed to love me, and want us to remain together always.
Stay tuned…you’ll get to meet the blonde. There was another girl in the car…but I still don’t know who that was. She’s obviously irrelevant.
P.S. If it’s kinda scattered, it’s because although I’ve always wanted to write all of this out…I never have. And I’m just typing as I remember it all. It’s a bit cathartic, so we’ll see how I feel at the end.