I am lost

Anger and hatred has never left me.  It has always been here, scarring my soul with ugly dark cuts throughout.  It has been over 2 years since his daughter moved in.  What was supposed to be 6 months up to a year seems to be indefinite.  Her mother has failed to fulfill all necessary requirements to prove she is ‘fit’ to have her daughter returned to her as dictated by the foster care authorities.  And so this child, my husband’s daughter who was conceived through an affair, my unexpected addition into our home, into my life, has been forcing me without her knowing it, to deal with and accept my husband’s betrayal onto me.  I truly believed I was over it, or on my way.  With the pregnancy and birth of my daughter I felt I can get through this.  But every day that passes only fills me with more anger and hate.  I am angry towards my husband for all of it and I am angry towards my husband’s ex-mistress for not getting her life together and raising her own daughter or at least supporting us in doing so.  She enjoys her playtime with her daughter 3 days a week for 3 hours each day.  Nine hours total is what she is committed to as dictated by foster care specialists in supervised visits.  She does not help with clothing, food, supplies or guidance- supporting her daughter’s learning challenges, teaching her cleanliness and personal hygiene practices, nothing.  Her time is play time and everything else is up to me or her dad-my husband.  I was never asked how I felt about their daughter being brought into our home, she was simply dropped off.  I was certainly nowhere in their thoughts as he impregnated his ex-mistress, nowhere in their thoughts as he penetrated himself into her again and again, not thinking of the consequences. And yet I am expected to raise their child in my home, in my life.  This is not what I wanted; certainly not how I imagined my life.  I am so angry, I feel the burning inside. This worthless bitch can open her legs and enjoy the feeling of being fucked by my husband, but she can’t take care of the responsibility that came with it, not even part time.  I hate what he has put me through, I hate how he does not recognize how painful and fucked up all of this is to me.  I hate that his ex-mistress has no sense of responsibility only ignorance and denial.  I hate all of it…. I hate it, hate it, and hate it! 

Where did I go? I’m gone.  The only love I have and the only positive feelings I have are towards my daughter.  She is the only one who sees me; I am not me to anyone else, not anymore. What do I do? I am lost in this ugliness.  I am lost in this dark hatred.  I am a fake filled with false happiness and positivity.  How the fuck can I get my soul back in one piece and not broken up or scarred for life?  I am desperate for a cure to rid this ugly disease called anger and hate.  I am desperate for me to come back.

New Beginning

Four years had passed giving me what I desperately needed to heal, the only friend that helped me through my most difficult challenges in life, time.  The past few years proved to be challenging for me as I struggled to imagine the rest of my life with my husband.  Accepting his daughter who was conceived through an affair proved to be even more difficult.  I was trying.  My time hidden away from family, friends, and colleagues placed me into darkness fighting the anger and hurt within.  I cried, often.  I tried to keep a journal and believed that I was releasing my sorrows in words to a sheet of paper, my other friend who listened without judgment or sympathy or doubt.  But even further down in my soul I hurt for more than just this heartache caused by my husband.  I yearned for my own child, my true love, my new beginning.  I had to find peace with my husband to be truly ready to try to have a child with him.  But could I have a child?  Being married for over 11 years and still, no child of our own?  All of those years in our marriage, I dedicated myself only to my career all while hoping that someday I will become pregnant.  The clock was ticking as I grew older and the stress of it all only jeopardized my chances of it.  It was time, time to put all this behind me, focus on my marriage and try to create our new beginning.

My husband and I finally decided to seek out medical counsel to aid our efforts in having a child.  I decided to see a specialist who was affiliated with my employer at the time; I felt that was the best decision since there was a connection.  After waiting months for a consultation with the doctor the much anticipated meeting came to be with so much anxiety and excitement.  I was asked many personal questions by the nurse and some I felt were justified, others not so much.  But when it came to the question of my husband's children, it went too far, I thought.  One of the initial questions asked of me was how many years we had been married, "11 years" I proudly responded.  "How old are his children?" she asks while looking down at her paper tablet taking notes.  I explain the oldest is 17 years old and his youngest is three years old.  Her eyes finally looked upon me, glaring at me above her glasses repeating my words in a question, "three years old?”  Finally we make eye contact as most of the time she spent looking down, but the contact her eyes made upon me was filled with judgment and disgust.  "So he had a child with someone else while you two were still married?"  She spent the remainder of the meeting questioning my decision to have a child with someone who had a child with another woman during our marriage.  Before I was introduced to the doctor, it was clear the nurse shared 'notes' with her since the doctor questioned if this was something I really wanted.  I left the office feeling judged upon, punished, and ashamed, embarrassed.  And so after that mental punch in my gut, I straightened myself up and I made an appointment with a different specialist, outside of my network, prepared for the same shame and embarrassment that came from the first.  I thought maybe that is just part of the questioning process and they want to make sure I really am ready to bring a child into the world despite our challenges.  The second specialist I met with proved me so wrong.  She was like an angel, so genuine, so friendly and down to earth, helpful, explaining in detail and making it so easy to understand the process to come.  She asked the ages of his children, too and she got all she needed from my answer.  It was enough to satisfy the question that he may or may not be able to have children, now.  She did not linger any further in regards to that.  She wanted to help me, she wanted to help us, and I felt that from her, at least her kindness made me feel that way.  It was beginning.  We were finally on our way, together, hopefully.

Each day in our journey towards becoming pregnant felt so long and uneasy.  I often prayed for an angel from above to choose me as his/her mother.  I found words in music of Adele to relate to as I pleaded to this child to trust in me and believe in me that I will give my all as a mother.  I wanted to skip all the medical necessities of testing and medications and blood draws and office visits and anxiety that came with the process as directed by the doctor.  I just wanted to hear the words "you're pregnant", I desperately wanted to see the test stick read positive.  I yearned for a child of my own to call me, mommy.  The expense of it all began to lay heavy on our finances but I continued to juggle our bills the best I could until I knew we could no longer do so.  Our first attempt to conceive under doctor’s counsel was so anticipated.  I followed all directions with strict and disciplined eagerness and my husband did the same.  The time came to test after our first attempt.  Sitting in the doctor’s office waiting for the results was so painstaking.  As I looked upon the dim lighted walls lying on the reclined patient chair I read messages of support.  Support for couples who may miscarriage or who are simply unable to conceive.  I thought to myself how difficult and painful that could be and imagined the many women who sat in the very chair I was sitting in who felt that pain.  I hoped that I would never have to seek out that support.  

Our first attempt failed.  It was explained to me that we will try again, to be patient and expect this to happen many times. I explained to the nurse as my eyes filled with tears to tell the doctor I can only try one more time, we cannot afford to continue failing and I am not strong enough to go through it repeatedly.  While driving home from the doctor's office I am filled with sadness and disappointment, I was surprised by the sudden phone call from my doctor.  I explain that our second try may be the last, and as I spoke those words to her she heard the crackling in my voice.  I tried hard to speak clearly, but my crying was heard and felt through.  I parked my car hoping to find a moment to refresh myself and gain composure as she asked me, "Are you crying?”  I did not answer, and she continued to talk giving me words of encouragement and strength.  "We are going to get through this, together" she said explaining that it does not always happen so quickly and to not give up.  I cried in the car, parked in front of that old, ignored landmark restaurant hoping to not be seen by employees and visitors walking in and out of the main doors.  I listened to her with tears running down my face and mumbled acknowledgement as she spoke.  She was not just my doctor anymore; she was my support through this.  I was so grateful to her at that moment, and always.  

The time came to learn of my future, of our future, it was time to take the second test.  I was given a home pregnancy test to use on a specific day, early morning.  Of course I was so anxious throughout the night to take the test I hardly slept and was up much earlier than normal.  My husband always wanted us to test together, but I never wanted him to see my sadness when the test result came back negative. I took the test, alone.  I thought my eyes were still filled with sleep because I could not believe what I was seeing.  So many tests I've taken throughout the years, all negative.  I used to cry every time but then just got used to it, expected it.  But not on this day, it was positive!  I woke up my husband whispering with excitement "wake up... Look at this; does it look positive or negative to you?" I asked.  He looked much focused at it and replied with a hopeful surprise, barely awake as he whispered, "positive".  I still could not believe it and it seemed he could not believe it either.  We had to wait a few days before we could accurately confirm it at the doctor’s office, but in the meantime we had to test again to satisfy our doubt.   And to our surprise, it was a positive read, again.  I felt my husband's excitement as he mentioned that he wanted to save the test stick!  I thought, "Gross", but happy to feel how special this was for him, too.  I was overwhelmed with excitement; happiness... nothing else mattered to me anymore, I thought.  I felt happy and it seemed I could focus on our future, together, without the anger, hatred and sadness that overcame me those past few years.  It was a special time for me and I wanted to enjoy every second of it.

I do everything right, I follow the right diet, better managing my health and stress level, exercising accordingly; I am desperate to have a successful pregnancy.  I am thankful that my prayer had been answered.  I finally had the best reason to take my mind off my husband’s infidelity and the child that came from it.  I was no longer as bitter about the communication he had with his daughter’s mother to schedule visits, not like before.  I began trying to accept his new normal, his time spent with his daughter on their own time as I prepared for my own child, our child.  I had ideas for the open bedrooms in our home, how things will change, how we would prepare, what we need to purchase, make... so many things.  My mind was so inundated with ideas and vision.  

A few months after I learn of my pregnancy I am told that his daughter would be moving in.  Her mother got into legal trouble and rather than a foster home for their daughter, she could be with her father  temporarily until her mother was able to care for her again.  I was so accustomed with my husband seeing his daughter on his own time, without me, that was easy for me to deal with.  Now the reality of her being in my home with us seemed to have set me back, I was not ready to face the past so loud and clear in front of me, in my sanctuary where I hid from it all that time.  Now she is here, she being the child that resulted from his affair, now she is mine to care for, too.  I forgot my happiness and excitement for a time and drifted to that pain that came after I learned of his affair.  I allowed anger and hatred to seep into my soul again and put towards him.  I was selfish as I only wanted in my vision what I was so accustomed to seeing and the result of his affair was not a part of it, in person.  But in mind she was always a part of it. I questioned, shouldn't this make me happier to have a second child come into my life?  Is she too, a part of my new beginning?  

Adele - Make you feel my love

When the rain is blowing in your face

And the whole world is on your case

I could offer you a warm embrace

To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear

And there is no one there to dry your tears

I could hold you for a million years

To make you feel my love

I know you haven't made your mind up yet

But I would never do you wrong

I've known it from the moment that we met

No doubt in my mind where you belong

I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue

I'd go crawling down the avenue

No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do

To make you feel my love

The storms are raging on the rolling sea

And on the highway of regret

Though winds of change are blowing wild and free

You ain't seen nothing like me yet

I could make you happy, make your dreams come true

Nothing that I wouldn't do

Go to the ends of the earth for you

To make you feel my love

Hopeless

I needed his lips, I wanted to feel them on me, kissing me and I missed them, I missed him.  I was away for a short time, away in my sorrow and heartache, by myself at that lone, tourist filled hotel.  I cried most of the time with anger and hate flowing through my tears.  My phone continuously ringing displaying the nickname I gave him so long ago.  My anger would not allow me to answer the phone, but my love deep down inside wanted to reach for him.  I hated him at that moment, but I missed him.  My emotions, so up and down, I was so confused, I hated him but I loved him, I missed him, I answer the phone.  His voice arrests me for a moment before my rage took over.  I asked hate filled questions about her, about what they did, when.. where.. why.  I get off the phone only for him to call back and it is repeated- again and again.  My yearning for him grows, I was away too long, I could not be away any longer. 

Our reconnection begins that late September night upon my return.  He holds me close and I allow him.  He lays me down gently and I want to be closer.  He kisses me softly and I wanted more.  Our emotional, physical attraction intensifies as I embrace his every move on my body.  Soon after he holds me closer and I cry, tears of reconciliation and tenderness.  So many thoughts clouding my mind as I try to find understanding and acceptance, I am desperate for strength to move forward.  How are we going to get through this?

Who is she?

Everywhere I went, I was looking for her.  Every woman matching her type, I wondered if it was her.  I was angry at them, all who I suspected, strangers to me I deemed enemy.  I was unable to function, lacking focus and sincerity to those I judged.  Who is she?  Who was this person that brought my husband to complete submission?  Is she beautiful? Is she physically attractive? Did she do everything to him that he wanted, that he likes?  Did he like it?  Does he still see her?  How often?  How long?  Where?  How did they meet?  Where was I?  Did he talk to her about personal things?  Did he kiss her?  Where did he kiss her?  Did she go down on him?  Did he go down on her?  Did he hold her afterwards?  I could not stop thinking about what they may have done together.  I could not stop thinking about her, what she looked like and what my husband seen in her that failed his commitment to me.

I falsely accepted what happened, my husband’s infidelity and the child that came from it.  I tried to move forward supporting him in his effort to be in his child’s life.  I asked him to keep his growing relationship with his daughter at a distance, on his own time, without me.  But as time continued moving, I stood still, my mind and soul still trying to recover from the heartache.  My attempt to recover failed in the therapist’s office as the phony demeanor deterred me.  Most days if not all, I cried- alone.  At work, the single, self-locking bathroom became my sanctuary, somewhere I could flee to when I could no longer pretend life was good.  So many times I remember standing in there, crying, trying to get myself together and refreshing my makeup, putting on a façade.  No one had any idea what I was going through, I was always smiling, so work focused, on the surface.  But deep down, I looked at those strangers who I seen as enemies and I wondered, maybe she is the one.. or her.. or that one.  I had to begin my healing process to get past this ugly, hate filled thing growing within.  Every day was a struggle and on top of it all, wondering, who is she?

In his efforts to build a relationship with his daughter, my husband of course communicated with her mother to coordinate pick up and drop off locations.  It was understandable to me, expected, but I despised it.  Normally he would coordinate visits on his own time but I happen to be in the room when a call had been made.  He was to pick up his daughter at her daycare and her mother would be there, too.  As my husband explains that he will be leaving I could not resist the opportunity to rid my mind of so many unanswered questions about her.  “I’m going too.”  No, no, no… he did not want that and I did not care.  I was clear, I was going and there was no way in hell he was going to stop me.  The drive was long, I was so anxious to see her, to meet her.  He was tense, nervous, concerned that I was going to do something stupid, but I was confident.  I finally can get this part past me, no more wondering, no more suspecting this person or that person, no more hatred, no more enemies. 

As I waited in the car for them I imagined what was going on in the daycare; so much time had passed after my husband went in, did she not want to come out?  Is their daughter not ready?  Are they talking? Talking about what?  So many thoughts as I waited intently in the car.  Finally the door opens.  My husband walks out carrying a bag and she follows behind, holding their 3 year old daughter in her arms.  I stared at her as she walked towards the car, giving her time to make her way closer before I act.  As she approaches the vehicle I open my car door and walk towards her offering my hand in an attempt to be civil.  My demeanor is strong, confident and eager.  I shook her hand “It is finally nice to meet you” I said.  Her hand shake revealed so much to me, I, for a moment felt pity for her.  And at that moment I found closure, I did not heal, but I woke up from those trivial thoughts that wasted my time.

That day in September

"I fucked up" is what he said to me.  While driving on the interstate heading North, my thoughts were pleading to God to "please help us through this, whatever he is about to tell me, please give me the strength to handle it and help us through this."  I never thought he would say those words to me, the words that followed.  For me, I thought all was fine, I had no idea his devotion to me diminished.  I did not believe he would ever do that, have an affair.  I did suspect at one time but deep down I believed it would never happen. 

My day was going so well before he told me.  I had gotten the phone call I was waiting for from our mortgage company letting me know we were approved for a refi at a lower rate.  We had been waiting for some time for a final answer after a long tedious process.  During that time we were struggling financially and it seemed things were falling apart around us in regards to our finances.  I was so happy to hear the words on the phone telling me "you have been approved", tears flooded my eyes while sitting at my desk at work.  I finally seen light at the end of the tunnel.  I was so excited I immediately called my husband to tell him the great news.  No excitement, no emotion, nothing.  His words to me, "We need to talk".  I asked him several times what it was about, but he was very clear that it needed to be in person after I got off work.  I got home and found him lying on the bed looking down, tense, nervous-unable to move as I looked over him asking him what was wrong.  Silence.  Finally, he got up, no eye contact, no words only communicating to his son that we will be back.  He said that we will talk about it in the car as we take a drive.  I felt at that moment that yes, something is wrong, something pretty significant, but not that.  All I could think is that he spent money putting us further in debt?  I could not think of what it could be other than that.  I thought, we can get through this.. it is just money. 

The drive was quiet, unemotional, still in the mood.  I gave him his time to speak, and during that waiting period to hear what he had to say, I silently prayed.  "Dear God, give me the strength to handle whatever it is he is going to tell me, help me through this, help us through this.  Please help us through this, please help me through this, whatever he is going to say.  Give me the strength to make it."  Over and over I silently repeated it, while looking out the window onto the highway periodically glancing over at him while he quietly drove the car.  He finally spoke "I fucked up, I made a mistake and had an affair with someone a year ago and she got pregnant and is trying to say it is mine."  I thought to myself that it could not be true.  Really? Stunned at first, but could not stop asking myself, why?   How did this happen?  Why?  With who?  Why?

He finally got it out, a year after he got her pregnant.  He obviously was with her since the September before being their child was born in May.  I left for about a week that last September to attend a conference in Denver, surely he was with her during that time, maybe before that even.  I do not know.  And yes, with her after for "a couple months" which is code for a lot longer than a couple months, I believe.  How painful it was, hearing those words come out of his mouth.  I hurt so deeply, it cut so deep.  I considered, for a moment, to open the car door and just let it all go, all the pain that is.  How easy that would have been.  But that was just for a moment of thinking until my anger took over the pain.  He wanted to drive and talk about it.  What was there to talk about?  I wanted to go home, leave him at the house and go on my way somewhere else.  Where?  I did not know at the time, just away, away from him. 

We had been married for 8 years at the time he told me, 7 years when he had the affair.  During those years we were not actively trying to have our own child, but we were hoping it would happen soon.  I wanted to have a girl, I wanted to give him a girl, that was my dream!  He already had a son from a previous marriage and I dreamed of being able to give my husband a little girl.  I thought I was fully ready to share my story, but I see now as I emotionally communicate this part I struggle the most with this.  I asked him with hesitation the question I did not want the answer to, "is it a boy or a girl?".  "A girl" he answers.  So painful it was for me.  Damn, 6 years later and I still struggle with this.

As we make it back to the house, I am so ready for him to leave my side, get out of the car- get the fuck away from me.  Just let me go on my way, let me be by myself.  I needed to grieve the loss of our marriage.  Before I drove out of the driveway I tell him with angry, teared filled eyes, "I hope you are not like some of these other assholes out there who do not take care of their kids!"  I drove off, crying in the car, looking for somewhere to go.  Where?  I cannot go to anyone in my family, my mother, step dad, friends.. no.  I was so embarrassed, ashamed, I did not want anyone to know about it.  I ended up at a hotel in Iowa, and I cried so hard, my head hurt, my stomach, my whole body ached of pain and heartache.  In the shower, I cried, on the bed, curled up holding my stomach, crying, I could not stop.  All while asking, Why?