Nightmare

I'm a giant ball of anxiety today. Unfortunately, I can't really get into too many details yet because this is too public and I made the mistake of telling too many people irl about my blog.

But here's the thing. When you have a baby with someone by accident, someone you barely know, it's kind of fucking terrifying. With Rodolfo, I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew his flaws but I also knew all the reasons he would be a good dad. And he's still a good dad. In fact, he's been a good dad to both of my girls. I'm lucky in that way, because despite everything, despite the fact that I accidentally got knocked up barely a year after we split, he hasn't let me go through this alone. He hasn't watched me struggle- emotionally, financially- and thought to himself "not my problem". To think about it now, to say I knew his flaws before we ever had a child, isn't giving him nearly enough credit. Because I did know his flaws, but I realize now that I never gave him nearly enough credit for how deeply good he is at his core. Despite it being in his nature to be harsh sometimes, judgmental even, when it came down to it, Rodolfo has been there for me. And I probably didn't deserve it.

On the other hand, I have Alex's bio dad. The one who has fought me every step of the way. The one who questioned her paternity the moment he didn't get his way. The one who went behind my back and tried to turn my own family against me (Ha. Good luck with that one, asshole). The one who forced me to go to court to prove her paternity, but has not before or since once asked about her well being, has not once offered to buy her a diaper, has not once made the time to meet her. He is the guy who, when we are due back in court in a couple of weeks, will paint me as the bad guy who kept him away without even so much as a drop of self-reflection on his own shitty behavior.

The worst part, the part that is giving me nightmares and stomach cramps and a constant sense of dread, is the fact that, in the end, he will still have rights to her. He will still get to see her. He will still fight me every step of the way despite never showing a drop of genuine love or attachment to her. Because that is who he is. He's that guy who always gets his way, always proves he's "right", always justifies his own flaws. And I have to hand her over to this man who I do not trust. My baby, who I love more than life itself, I have to give her to him and walk away and try to hold it together and not show him how scared and sad and desperate I am, because that will only further motivate him to spite me. I have to explain to Caitlyn why her sister leaves us at regular intervals to go stay with a stranger who has barely acknowledged her existence.

I'm overwhelmed. I'm emotional. I'm doing everything I can to put on a brave face and I'm failing.

Please, wish me luck in the coming weeks. I'm going to need it.

What the Fuck is Wrong With People?

As I'm sure you have heard, there was a shooting at an elementary school in Connecticut today. Since it just happened a few hours ago, I don't have a lot of the details. Even if I did, I certainly wouldn't want to rehash them here. The truth of the matter is, I want nothing more than to stick my fingers in my ears and repeat "LA-LA-LA-LA I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" any time someone at work (or on my Facebook feed) brings it up.

I'm not trying to minimize the tragedy. I'm not saying I don't care. It's just that this is the sort of thing I can't even being to think about without completely breaking down. My stomach ties itself in knots just reading the headlines for these kinds of stories, let alone the gory details.

The thing is, I lost a child. Obviously I did not lose a Kindergartener who had been the biggest part of my life for years. My loss was much earlier than that, so I won't claim to know how the parents of those children must feel. The thought of their babies, terrified and crying for them in a place they are supposed to be safe... it makes me shake in horror. It makes me want to puke. I can't even imagine how it must make their parents feel, knowing their children lost their lives in such a gruesome, violent manner.

My point is just that things like this hit me differently than they do a lot of other mothers, I think. My Facebook feed is filled with friends, family, and aquaintances talking about how they can't wait to get home and hug their kids. How terrifying it is to think that, even in elementary school, you can't ever be sure that they are safe. The difference for me is that is how I feel all the time.

I feel like it would be absolutely disrespectful to compare my stillborn baby to the children who were tragically gunned down this morning, so I want to be careful to say that I'm really not trying to do that. My point is more the reaction from other parents.

When I lost Nicholas, every drop of "that could never happen to me" left my body. I don't ever doubt how quickly and unexpectedly a tragedy could cross my path. Or Caitlyn's. For the most part, absent of a current, relatable tragedy such as the one that happened today, I think most people fall on the other side of the fence. Most people want to believe statistics. They want to believe that if there is a 98% chance something will never happen, that of course they wouldn't be part of the 2% with the terrible luck.

During my pregnancy with Caitlyn, I had an overlap with both of my sister's pregnancies as well. April was near the end of her pregnancy when I got pregnant, and Samantha had just found out she was a few weeks before I did. My loss was certainly on everyone's mind, because it was just 6 months prior. In fact, April was already a few months pregnant when I lost Nicholas. They never talked to me about their fears for their own children, but my mom told me not too long ago that they were both terrified. "That will never happen to me" just hit a little too close to home.

I wonder though, if now, years after the fact, they still have the same fears I do. I mean, every parent worries for the safety of their child, but i think I do to an excessive degree. I never feel 100% sure that I'll see Caitlyn again. Every time I strap her into her carseat, I kiss her goodbye. Just in case we are in a terrible car accident and she doesn't make it, I want her to know she is loved. Even when she is being difficult and crying and fighting me while I try to strap her in, I give her a kiss and tell her I love her. About half the time in the mornings, I wake up and think to myself "she's sleeping too soundly. Did she suffocate in her sleep?". On the rare occasions when I make plans without her, I always find myself fearing that something will happen to her before I return, and I'll have squandered my last precious hours that could have been spent with her doing selfish, unimportant shit.

Sometimes I have to tell myself that I'm being obsessive, or that she will almost definitely be fine. I have to remind myself that my sanity and my ability to be a good mother to her depends on occasionally giving myself a break. But I never, ever tell myself that something could never happen. Unfortunately, the older she gets, the more there are outside influences in play. I'm surprisingly not a crazy overprotective mom, but I mostly attribute that to the fact that my own mom never stopped me from doing things I wanted to do and always trusted and encouraged me. I know when it comes to decision-making, she will be trusted and trustworthy. It's all the stuff outside of both of our control that utterly terrifies me.

Ironically, Caitlyn had her first taste of preschool today. Our babysitter's son celebrated his 4th birthday today and his preschool allowed Caitlyn to stick around and join in the festivities. It was very nice of them, and I got a bunch of very cute, very big girl schmoozing with the other big kids pictures sent to my phone. It made me a little excited to see her so very ready for the next step that will eventually come, but also a little sad to see her embracing such a big step without me. And then all hell broke loose and I had to breathe and type and try not to cry at my computer.

Trials and Tribulations (and Shitty Fucking Fords)

Fuck. I really was planning on posting something a little... I don't know, funny? Not completely depressing maybe? I guess I'm just not in the right frame of mind to be funny again just yet.

Anyway, this weekend I had a little trial run of my near future. Nadine was going out of town and asked me to stay at her house and watch her cat while she was away. Besides that, she knew I could use a break from home. And so Caitlyn and I went and spent the weekend on our own.

You guys? It was fucking depressing and lonely. Everyone keeps telling me it will pass, this sadness about being alone for the first time in my life. But I'm struggling.

I suppose it's normal. Divorce isn't an easy thing. The thing is, I had such a nice time on vacation. Stress-free and relaxing and a break from the constant strain in my marriage. I guess I sort of expected it to be more like that. Except, well, I'm NOT on vacation anymore. I'm not surrounded by my friends all the time. I have responsibilities that I'm used to sharing that I now have to deal with on my own. And it sucks.

Part of it is that Rodolfo has been nicer to me since I told him I was leaving him than he's been in the last 6 years. He doesn't bust my balls about every little thing I do. I'm not constantly being picked apart. I have to keep reminding myself that this is the exception and not the rule. That he's being pleasant because he no longer has a stake in my life and so he doesn't care what I do.

This afternoon, we made our way back home and my car died on the highway. I tried my dad (yes, he's an asshole but an asshole with at least minor knowledge about car trouble) and then my sister. My dad wasn't answering his phone and my sister was at the zoo with her son. She was willing to come pick up me and Caitlyn, but I knew I couldn't leave my car on the side of the road. And so I caved and called Rodolfo. He left work to come help, and when he couldn't get my car home, he called a tow truck and drove us home.

A big part of the problem in my marriage has always been Rodolfo's insistence that I am incapable of doing anything "right". My car has always been one of the things he liked to bust my balls about. He would yell at me if he found a mess in my car. He would call me irresponsible if I went even a few miles over the recommended mileage for an oil change. He would insist that I shouldn't take my car more than a few miles because it was "about to die at any minute" (for the record, he's been saying that any time I went further than 10 miles for the last 4 years).

My point is that it was really hard for me to call him today and ask for his help. I hung up with him and started to cry. I felt like a failure. I half expected him to show up and ask me how I thought I could survive without him if I couldn't even get my car home without his help. He didn't say any of that, of course. No. He did what he always does: he fixed the problem and made sure Caitlyn and I were safe.

Sometimes it feels really hard to walk away from someone who always makes sure we are safe. And so I have to remind myself. I can do this on my own. It isn't a failure to call and ask for his help when his daughter is in the car too. Because before I met him, I wouldn't have called anyone crying. I'd have figured it out on my own. Because back then I believed I could do it on my own. And I know I can feel that way again. It's just going to take some time to adjust.