A Serious One This Time

My 1st born was no surprise. I calendar watched and counted days to get her here. I could barely sleep the night before because I had decided, after being six days late, that I'd take THE test. After supplying the sample,  I put my head down, anxiously tapped my foot, as I waited the requisite three minutes to view the results. When it was time, I nervously turned the test over and those two solid lines jumped into view.  I. Was. Pregnant. I swung the bathroom door open and went over to my husband at the time and sang, "Guess whattttt?" Instead of verbalizing it, I handed him the test. He looked confused at first but he soon got it and a big smile spread across his face. We hugged, I skipped around the tiny apartment while he called everyone he knew.

At the time of this revelation, three months after the ceremony, I'd already begun to question the strength of the union. I'd written in my journal, the same month of the wedding, that I wasn't sure it had been the right move. However, since there had been such controversy leading up to the nuptuals (like NO ONE thought this was a good idea) I chose to push on. Maybe it would get better, maybe we would defy the odds. Maybe a baby would change things (that'll be your only chuckle of this  particular post). So, now I'm pregnant. We are both excited about that and that was unifying at the time. Short lived.

As my belly grew bigger, we grew farther apart. Two months after my precious one was born, he presented me with divorce papers. I signed, disappointed that we would not defy the odds while also mad that he'd beat me to the punch. 

We parted ways and attempted to craft a co-parenting plan. On a scale of 1 to 10 where 10 is stellar collaboration, we never made it past 5-6 on our best day. She was my primary concern and responsibility. I'm not 100% sure what she represented to him. He'd move on to remarry the woman he'd been briefly married to before me and they'd have two children together. There were some early attempts at family/sibling integration but it was never smooth.

See, one of the things that REALLY sucks about parenting is that you can't always control who is in your child's life. Yes, I chose her father (and having pushed through with that choice is a shining example of going against EVERY single sign God sent). However, I couldn't control every one he'd bring into her life. While some have been warm and welcoming, other key players have been 100% the opposite of that. While striving to be kind to myself, it's hard when you know you set a play in motion that would ultimately bring a world of hurt into the life of someone you'd kill for.

MY girl is strong and smart and compassionate. She is love and light. She is victory and overcoming. And mine.  Completely and totally mine no matter what others say or attempt to lay claim. 

If you too set something in motion that brought pure shit into your baby's life, forgive yourself, fix it the best way you can and love that child so fiercely in word and deed that they have no idea there's even a void.