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Ah, those days of backsliding. Questions, questions, questions, that you know that even if you got the answers to them, it wouldn't take the edge off of the pain.
Baby H is gently nursing and snoozing in my lap. He's such a blessing. Truly. I often think that I don't know how I would've survived any of this, except that I know how much he needs me and how beautiful he is.
Everything happens for a reason, they say, and I struggled with that saying for a long time.
Really? God put me through this on purpose? It sure as hell wasn't making my life easier, better, richer. It wasn't helping my girls. The worst thing that could happen continually was happening, every time, no matter how hard I tried to make up for what I'd done. And then I'd make a mistake again and....my ex used to say he believed in disproportionate justice. If someone (including our children) acts in an undesirable way, the best way to get them under control was to immediately enact disproportionate justice.
My life was a series of disproportionate justice. Kiss another man? Find out your entire marriage was built on lies, affairs, and manipulation. Everything I touched started to crumble. Adultery is horrible, but most people cheat and they go back to their spouse and work things out and life goes on. Or they amicably divorce and life goes on.
Nope. I got sent to psychologists, told I was a danger to my kids, emotionally and psychologically beaten within an inch of my life, and when I fought back with a restraining order, was gifted with a judge who deemed it appropriate to tell me to continue to live in the house with my abuser.
I need to let go of that anger and hurt and resentment, but it's hard when my 5 year old wants to stay with me and I can't even communicate with her father because every email or text he sends is a backbite trying to pull me back into hating myself.
But back to the baby. I can't help thinking that it's wrong, somehow, that he can't have both of his parents in his life. I have no desire to be back with his father. And I realize he didn't want the baby and that had I not decided to keep him, he would've just signed away his rights and that would've been the end of it.
But that's not fair. Why shouldn't his kids have a sibling? Why shouldn't his son have a father figure, even a temporary one? If he grows up, and has only ever known life with his dad taking him a few evenings a week, it will just be his life. If he grows up with no father, then in 10 years, I have to explain somehow that his father chose not to be in his life. I'll try to make it sound noble. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure he knows he is loved and wanted. But I can't guarantee anything. It breaks my heart. At what point, as his mother, should I start fighting for him to have what he deserves?
Go away thoughts. Stop driving me back there.
I went to Kohl's yesterday and heard the following songs while I was there: "Just Haven't Met You Yet", "Fine By Me", and "I'm Yours". Kohl's somehow had our summer playlist down perfectly. Ugh.
Tomorrow I'm going to go watch one of my colleagues direct her music program dress rehearsal. She is pregnant with her first baby and I finally am to the point where I love to see people who are in love with their families.
Tomorrow will be better.

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