When this baby was concieved, my husband and I were technically separated. We were merely "dating" at his request to try to work things out. In the weeks following the positive test, we were nervous but very excited to provide a sibling for our son, especially after losing his brother at 20 weeks gestation just two years ago. We moved back in together. We began to feel excited, hopeful, and like maybe this happened for a reason.
Wrong. At least for the reason we thought.
Then came the diagnosis...then came another (different) diagnosis. I was heartbroken and terrified. I had finally come to terms with this unexpected pregnancy, finally started to feel positive about it, and then...this.
My husband withdrew completely. I thought he was dealing with his own emotions so I tried not to push, tried not to dig even though I desperately needed some one to talk to. I needed support, and it was nowhere to be found, at least when searching within my marriage.
As we began to talk with specialists, plan our move, search for new jobs, basically begin entire new lives, he became even more distant.
Then one night, he calmly walked downstairs where I was sorting laundry and told me that he isn't coming with us to Seattle. That he wants a divorce.
and that was that.
So here I am. This blog has taken on a new identity, as have I. Single mother, mother to be, mother of a child who will be born needing open heart surgery.
Facing this alone is nothing new, I haven't had the support from the start and honestly, having one less person to worry about through all of this is a relief. I am angry though.
How can some one just up and abandon their responsibilities like this? I picture him off hanging out with his friends while I try to memorize new terminology and research surgeons. While I look for a new job, considering I am already completely on my own financially as well. I picture a world where when things get hard, you can simply back out. I am now applying for assistance, and drafting up custody agreements. I feel as though I am drowning in appointments and paperwork.
I am thankful to my mom who raised me to be strong and taught me through her own struggles, that I can do it on my own. I am not worried for us, I know we will be fine. Probably better.
I am not seeking comments on this...I am not wanting feedback. This is just informational. While I continue writing about this journey, my "family" has taken on a new identity. So when I write about "us" and "our struggles" you know that the us is minus one. But the two (and a half) of us are enough.
We've got this.