Tag Archives: grief

Son, I Too Have Asked “Where Is Your Daddy?”

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Another month in 2020, another month under a Stay at Home Order. t was my intention to release this blog last week but I spent my free time searching for a dog for my son. No such luck yet, but the rationale behind him getting a dog is an entirely different blog altogether. I’ve recently written a few blogs detailing how my son has been questioning and for as much as a toddler can- working through the answer to his burning question “where is my daddy?” This is something that I’ve continued to both pray on and blog about. I’ve gotten some good suggestions from you all and for that I thank you. This particular blog is going to take a different turn. It’s something I wrote to my son’s father on my son’s first birthday but never sent. When I found it in the notes section of my phone I debated writing it out and putting it away for my son to read at a much later age-not because I want him to hate his father but because I originally thought it would help if he saw that he wasn’t the only one with that question. As I sat reading the letter I decided against writing it out for my son to read; I feel it’s too emotional and I honestly don’t want him to combine my past pain with whatever pain he may be working through at that (future) stage of his life. I also flat out just don’t want my son to worry about me, that’s not his job. I have however decided to share the letter with my readers. I want people to know and “see” that healing is possible. Yes, healing hurts and it takes time but it’s worth it. I want people to understand I wasn’t always strong, or forgiving. I want whoever needs to hear this to know someone once walked in your shoes; felt your pain; and plans to make it to the other side. The other side being not only healing and forgiving my son’s father BUT also opening my heart to love again. You, too can do this. So here goes:

11/13/18 this day was so painful. It should’ve been very happy and honestly in spurts it was but as has been the last month, there were random periods of tears. Yup, our child’s first birthday and I cried….several times actually. The first time I cried was because I wanted to text you, well obviously that wasn’t an option but I realized the very reason I wanted to text, you honestly wouldn’t have been able to share with me. I wanted to reminisce, recall what was going on at certain points, reflect on how we felt or reacted to different events on the day I brought our son into the world. Slowly, I remembered you weren’t there. I couldn’t reminisce or recall with you; and there certainly could be no reflection because you weren’t there. Flashback to one year ago, I needed you so much that day. I needed you to hold my hand; to calm my nerves; to reassure me that everything was ok and I was doing a good job….cuz well I didn’t believe the nursing staff. I thought they kept telling me that just to keep me calm, to keep my blood pressure and heart rate down, to keep me from throwing up. I remember finally deciding to get the epidural after approximately 24 hours of labor with very little pain meds thinking “I don’t want this but if I end up having a c-section I also don’t wanna be knocked out and in recovery for 2 hours and not being able to hold my baby. My baby needs to feel one of his parents within the first few minutes of life…not after 2 hours.” I agreed, and in came the anesthesiologist explaining to me that I needed to be very still while he was placing the epidural in my back, even if I had a contraction I had to be still. If I moved I could risk him hitting a nerve and paralyzing me. Welp, the first time he tried I had one hell of a contraction, moved, screamed….he jumped and barely got the thing in. He took a step back, looked at it said it was terribly placed and he was gonna take that one out and reinsert it. Sir, I barely got through one attempt now you saying you wanna do it again? I guess the second time was a charm because he placed it perfectly and once it was in I immediately felt the medicine(sweet relief). 

After getting the epidural I remember falling asleep, finally some peace. I woke up  2-3 hours later, got rechecked, assured I’d finally made it to 9cm (because if they were wrong again I would’ve found the energy to scream at them) and being told “whatever you do don’t push; we’re gonna break everything down and set up for your son’s birth.” The. Longest. 30. Mins. Of. My. Life. I wanted to push so many times while they were setting up. It took forever, or so I thought. Finally, the doctor came over and asked if I was ready to deliver I told him no. 26.5 hrs later, the moment I’d been waiting on and I told him no. He asked me why not and I told him you weren’t there yet and you couldn’t miss it. He gave me an empathetic look, stared right into my eyes and told me it wasn’t like the ultrasound where they could keep playing around until you got there. This was different and the baby couldn’t wait. It was time and I had no other options. Fighting back tears I took a deep breath and said ok. Thus the delivery of our son began. 

For as terrible as labor was delivery was  surprisingly easy. It took us about 30 mins. I wore the oxygen mask between pushes to ensure my levels stayed high and that the baby was getting enough energy. It took around 7 pushes, no seriously it didn’t take much. Around the 4th push I looked over at my mom and asked where were you? I whinned about you missing it and her response was he’s probably with his daughter. I asked if you’d texted for an update and she said don’t worry keep pushing…..which meant no. Again, fighting back tears I kept pushing and a few minutes later the most beautiful baby I’ve ever laid eyes on was born. For the first time of many over the course of the last year I had to put my feelings aside and care for him. He made that easy, he immediately snuggled right under me once he was placed into my arms. Which, by the way took a little extra time as they originally didn’t like his heart rate. After a few minutes, his heart rate slowed to a pace they were comfortable with, they cleaned him, measured, weighed in and placed him in my arms. True love at first sight. Looking at him made me happy; holding him made me happy; him snuggling into my chest made me happy. And suddenly I felt too much joy to be sad. All I could do was wish you were there too. 


It dawned on me yesterday while reminiscing on the day our son was born that the day of his birthday was the second time I felt he and I weren’t a priority in your life; unfortunately it was the first time I felt you rejected us. Yesterday I realized I hadn’t forgiven you for not being there, but how could I? You were not there the day I needed you most. On top of that you never apologized for missing it. Ok so you started a new job that day, but you could’ve came back after work. You could’ve called and talked to me, hell you could’ve FaceTime-d me. I would’ve at least felt like you made an effort had any of that been done. Instead you did nothing, you didn’t even communicate to me that you weren’t coming back. Yea, that was the first instance of rejection and that realization triggered this particular burst of tears. That’s our son’s birth story, now you know how it went…and as a result why I cried. 

A Parent’s Worse Nightmare

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The world stopped Sunday upon receiving news of Kobe Bryant’s untimely death. I personally almost passed out in disbelief. According to my mother she knew someone had transitioned based on the tone of my voice. I was totally taken aback and once I heard the number of victims who were on the flight it sent me over the edge even more! ” Oh my God, was Vanessa with him? If so that means ALL the girls?!? Oh my God, please don’t tell me an entire family is gone. As the we weaved through the rumors and (mis)information being presented at the speed of light we learned Vanessa wasn’t with him; which in my mind reasonably meant the baby wasn’t aboard the helicopter. This should’ve calmed my nerves, lightened the blow but it didn’t. I immediately screamed “GiGi”!!!!! Her death was yet to be confirmed BUT I was already gone. I bawled the entire day; and once her death was confirmed well it became too much. My own son staring at me in horror, not understanding what’s going on didn’t make the situation any better. I attempted to talk to one of my close friends about it and I immediately realized why I was taking this so hard. Yes, he was an amazing player; yes his death was so untimely and so unexpected but none of that is what drove me to the brink of unbearable sorrow. None of that was why I couldn’t look at; deal with; or be involved with my own son. This hit differently, it hurt like hell because I’m a parent; a mother and whether it’s for the good or bad things affect you differently as a parent.

Motherhood, parenthood in general has a way of uniting us. It’s one of those things that we inherently understand. We may have varying circumstances but realistically there is more about being a parent that unites us than divides us and well we aren’t afraid to show that, to build community and relationships from it. The unbearable pain I felt was as a a parent; it was so complex and yet once I was able to somewhat dissect it it made so much sense. The realization of more children and broken families built on the grief I was experiencing. This piece is in no way indicative of what’s going on or me trying to say how they do or should feel, It is no way what I know to be happening. This piece is just what I FELT on their behalf and the mini directions in which my mind wandered. For me writing was necessary to process my own grief.

Fear, Failure and Realizing Mortality:

I can’t imagine nor do I want to experience what it feels like to know what’s coming and to not be able to do anything to save your baby girl. Like seriously in the moments leading up to the crash I imagine all he could do was tell her he loved her; pray with her; and hold her. While spiritually and maybe emotionally that’s a lot and the best thing to do(prayer); physically and mentally it’s nothing. I HATE feeling helpless in minor situations with my son….you know he fell and I couldn’t catch him; he’s teething; and I can’t take the pain away; things like that. Can you imagine how hopeless that has to feel; to know he couldn’t stop the inevitable; to know he couldn’t take the pain away; to see that fear on her face?!?! I’m sure for a brief moment he felt like a failure. Parents but men especially pride themselves on providing for and protecting their families. Even in those last minutes I’m sure it messed with his manhood to know he couldn’t do anything. In all honesty I’m sure for another brief second he felt responsible for what was happening; after all it was his helicopter. Even if he didn’t feel those emotions (and I seriously hope he didn’t) knowing she won’t live out her potential; knowing she’s about to be robbed of her future; and that he is about to lose time with his other children…that’s so much pain. It hurts to fathom he died possibly blaming himself for her death…and in the end felt helpless. I would imagine his emotional death hurt more than his physical death.

Disbelief, Brokenness , and The Unthinkable:

Not even sure where to begin with this one. To carry and bear a child; watch them grow up; witness their milestones; prepare for the future because you know greater is coming and then to have it all snatched away in the blink of an eye -the immense grief the surviving parents must feel. What those parents wouldn’t give for one more hug; one more kiss; one more I love you mom/dad; more time to watch them grow….I’m honestly not sure how anyone finds closure from that. I imagine it feels as though a piece of your heart has left. How do you move on from that?

If you’re V how do you still mother your other children young children at that while grieving. How do you explain to your toddler who has very little sense of what’s going on that her sister and father won’t be back? How do you not get annoyed with her for continuously calling out for them? How do you separate their lack of understanding from your own grief? How do you mother a newborn and continue to unselfishly give of yourself when you’re in shock; horrified; in disbelief?

The father with the toddler who kept crying out for mommy……how do you deal? My heart broke again listening to him talk about how his baby crying out for mommy broke him. Jesus, how does one attempt to process grief when you have a toddler adding to it? You hurt for your children!!! Let’s be honest, as a toddler what memories will they have of their parents or siblings? Not very many. You hurt because their robbed of a parent, continuing a relationship, and what could’ve been. Mourning both the present and the future can be extremely hard, almost crushing.

AND in my opinion it gets worse for all the parents that have to identify and bury their children. How do you bury a child? No one is prepared to do that; we aren’t taught how to; aren’t given any direction. How do you get closure, you have to identify a body?!?!? Not a whole body possibly riddled with needle wounds after a fight with a terminal illness; not a body riddled any other bruises or wounds…unfortunately and perhaps what hurts most is possibly a mangled body; charred; in pieces, missing pieces; or no body at all. It’s hard enough to lose a child; it makes closure and acceptance even harder with the possibility of the gruesomeness these parents must face. They honestly can’t get that last hug; look at the gentle faces again; kiss their cheeks; or move their daughter’s hairs behind their ear.

My Jesus how it must feel to lose a piece of your heart and to grieve without physical closure. In the words of the hymn, “Oh what needless pain we bear.”

Horrified, Guilt, and Regret:
I don’t know how true this is but it’s been said on several occasions that Kobe and his parents weren’t on speaking terms. While I hope this isn’t true, I mourned for them too, but in a different way. If it is true they weren’t on speaking terms there’s a sense of guilt and regret that probably hits them. A case of the “what if” or “should’ve, would’ve, could’ve”. Maybe even a case of “I thought there’d be more time.” Unfortunately time is a fragile thing, it is both with us and against us. We never know how much of it we have and so it’s important to make every moment count; to attempt amends; and to do our best to have functional relationships with the ones that matter most. I honestly hope they aren’t mourning the loss of a son and granddaughter as well as the loss of possible reconciliation. I hope they aren’t mourning a granddaughter and the lost ability to get to know her. I hope they were at peace with their son. Yet, if they weren’t that’s a different type of loss altogether. It’s a loss I can’t exactly put into words but I felt and understood it all too well. While everyone’s loss is devastating if there was no relationship with their son and granddaughter that loss is more devastating because it comes with a side of guilt and resentment.

In the End:

In the end it took me a few days to sort through my feelings, and to compose myself enough to to put this into words yet after dissecting all of this I understood exactly why I felt her pain; why I felt his pain; and the pain of his parents and all the parents involved. I mourn(ed) those things with and for them. For some reason this commonality of parenthood really allowed me to empathize with them and perhaps understand a smidgen of the pain they’re feeling. It was important to understand this burden; this grief; this pain because while I need to pray for them I also need to learn from it. Even though Ionky have a toddler sooner rather than later I need to figure out a way to explain death and grief to him. And while this may not be a common idea I think it may be smart for me to game plan how to deal with grief while parenting; after all I am a parent and it will happen. In the end I wish this never would’ve happened to them but I no matter how it hurts I’m not going to question God. We just have to pray for the families, it”s really all we can do.

And Now We Celebrate

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As I stated in the previous blog, I was over it. Over arguing with someone I wasn’t with, over arguing with someone who continuously showed he didn’t want to co-parent, over overextending myself to make sure he understood he was wanted and needed as a parent…just over it!! I was driving myself nuts trying to make the best of this situation for my son and not realizing that I wasn’t my best self for him because I was allowing my emotional boundaries to be overstepped. I remember walking into my therapist’s office and proclaiming “IM DONE!!!” She didn’t even ask with what, she said finally!!! Then she told me she was glad I finally learned I couldn’t make my son’s father want to be there AND I had no reason to feel guilty. That was an extremely freeing moment!! We’re celebrating that lol! I finally figured out his absence wasn’t my fault, I did everything I could. I wasn’t shutting the door on my son’s ability to have a relationship with him because there was no relationship to be had. Once I let go of that guilt I actually cut him completely off. The conversations we were having weren’t helping my son, they weren’t helping me so why was I still allowing them? Yup, done. Cut him right off….talk about peace.

You know what else we’re celebrating? We’re celebrating the fact that I am finally happy with my family as is. Yes, it took some time; I mourned what I lost, my possible future with this man; I mourned the loss of my ideal family; I mourned my child not having a father but then..I became content(I actually blogged about it this sometime this summer). Instead of focusing on what I lost I decided to focus on what I had…which is a mom who LOVES spending time with her grandson, and loves helping out. I had cousins who love him and don’t mind the fact that he’s always with me; I had my sister and best friends who were there for whatever my son and I needed. Realizing that I had just as much if not more than what I lost gave me a new found hope and thus was and is worth celebrating.

I switched careers and am handling ALL of the financial responsibilities for my son on my own. I’m not so much basking in the fact that I have to handle all the financial responsibility for my son on my own( that’s something I forgive my son’s father for daily in order to keep from being pissed) but I’m basking in the fact that I had the ABILITY to switch to a career that was more parent friendly, and in switching careers I am able to handle everything I need to. Now I could write an entire blog about hits point alone but I’ll try not to(today anyway). Like so many single parents I thought about going for child support. I even filled out the application but I never pursued it beyond that. At the end of the day I don’t want him to think he has rights to my child because he sends a check. Just wasn’t what I wanted to do. Even though I decided not to pursue child support I still felt bad and even angry on a monthly basis….specifically if I was paying daycare tuition or if something popped up unexpectedly that my child needed. I remember getting so pissed off and cussing him as I struggled to figure out how to maneuver the money I had. One day I was having a conversation with one of my married friends and daycare tuition came up and she spoke about how her and her husband didn’t want to have more children because the cost of daycare was too much….how paying for one child was a balancing act for them. Now I wasn’t happy that they found themselves balancing money BUT hearing that made me feel good to know that even with a co-parent I still would’ve dealt with the same issues. So I’m celebrating!!! I’m overcame my anger, and frustrations around this part of single parenting and found a way to get it done!

You know what else we’re celebrating? We’re celebrating that my child hasn’t missed a beat!! My child has so many great experiences, he’s so happy and I was honest afraid he’d miss that. He has done so much in his almost two years of life. He’s gone to sporting events both pro and collegiate; he’s been to amusement parks; live shows; concerts; museums; zoos…all the kid hotspots lol! He seriously hasn’t missed a beat. The only reason we haven’t gone out of town yet is because I switched jobs…..and daycare tuition could care less that I was between careers Lolbvvs! So many toddlers only have material things: clothes, shoes, toys. It meant to much to me to give him experiences and I admit I was afraid that would decrease or not happen at all once his father left us.

We’re going to celebrate the fact that my stalker popped up at my house( and yes my son’s father knew this was an issue way before my son was conceived) and I was able to secure protection for my son and I by myself. Scary as hell, but guess what it needed to be done so I got it done. The last time I got an Order of Protection against this stalker my son’s father was with me every step of the way, it was so different going to the police stations and court dates by myself. I won’t lie, even getting my weapon and going to the classes was tough and intimidating but at the end of the day my son needed protecting and I wasn’t going to let him down. I’m proud of myself for the courage it took to do it alone.

I’m celebrating the fact that this same stalker decide to release via social media some extra old ( dry close to 10 years) videos of he and I being intimate…and Instead of cowering down and looking for someone to hold me down and remind me of who I am, and help me protect my son I held my head up and endured the situation alone. Now please believe me it was t easy. I was already emotionally battered and warn from the single parent situation, I was insecure about being a single parent and trying to find my identity as a single parent so that was not something I had room on my emotional plate for. In fact I had no tolerance whatsoever for this, but I had to find the strength to push through this as well. Thank God for His strength and again my core group of friends. Not sure how else I would’ve made it through that ordeal.

Stalker nonsense aside, I am also celebrating the fact that men still find me desirable. Yes, I won’t lie once my son’s father left I temporarily gave up on marriage. I thought no one could or would ever want me because I was now damaged goods. I figured no man would want to be bothered with the perceived drama of dealing with another man. I’m sure hare reading this and wondering wth is wrong with me, but remember this guy was my first love, we planned on getting married…and this thought was planted in my head since high school. In my mind when he left he took that possibility with him. I was so broken. I am thankful because one I didn’t hop into anything right after this went down….so no rebound dude issues (a previous break up with my son’s father is how I got the stalker in the beginning) that was growth. But also, at the right time God sent men along to remind me that I was still beautiful, and intelligent, still had a good head on my shoulders…and that have a child didn’t make me less desirable BUT them seeing how I was with my child made me MORE desirable. Now those potential relationships didn’t work out but I don’t feel as if they were meant to work. I feel like those dudes were sent to show me that at the appropriate time God will send the man who will love me the way Christ loves the church, He’ll send someone who will be happy with me and treat my son as if he has his DNA. That restoration of confidence is worth celebrating.

What I am most proud of myself for, what I celebrate the most is no matter how depressed I was, how down I felt, no matter how insecure I might’ve been, no matter how angry I was on the inside….my countenance remained the same. I was dying inside but laughing outside. I was dying inside but sharing, and still compassionate with others. I was doubting if I was worth marrying and would ever get married BUT able to celebrate with my girls when they got engaged! Not once did I get stingy and decide not to give to others, or decide to forgo celebrating with others. I did the opposite and gave with no grudges. I celebrated as if it were my own feat. It is this stability, this outward stability that I celebrate most. I still don’t know why I went through this. I have no clue why after 19 years my best friend, first love, and father of my child decided that he was better off doing life without my son and I but he did. I still can’t answer why we were looking for houses and talking about marriage one month and the next month he told his mother “ we took a DNA test and our son wasn’t his”. I don’t even look for answers anymore or try to understand it all. What I do know is I did my part. God told me to apologize, forgive, and seek therapy and in turn He gave me peace…not answers but peace. I am so happy and at peace with my life and the direction it’s going in. Yes, every blue moon I get down about something but I look at my son and reflect on God’s grace and know that everything will work itself out. In closing it’s my single mom-aversary and I AM celebrating!!! I am celebrating peace, joy, overcoming, and most importantly finding myself deeper in God! I’m an overcomes! I survived what tried to take me out!!! It’s a celebration MITCHES!!

Grief. Part 2

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Third, I mourned the loss of my best friend. Every time life sporadically changed you were there. When I didn’t believe in myself you believed in me. When I questioned whether or not I was good enough you were there to remind me of my accomplishments. When I got caught up in my thoughts you guided me back to reality. When I was scared and felt vulnerable you were by my side. When I felt alone you reminded me I wasn’t. Even when we weren’t dating you were my other half. No one ever understood the dynamics of our relationship; why we were so tight, why we were inseparable , why we always came back to one another. I’m not sure we understood it, I just know we always found our way back to each other. We always balanced one another. You were my calm, I was your storm. We bounced off one another, always laughed together, always shared. If I take things out of the relationship context you’re still there. Your absence is still hard to fill. Your presence is still very well missed…and honestly losing you in this respect is much harder than losing you as a mate. The unexpected loss of 20 years of history is unfathomable. The loss of a connection is indescribable. At least once a week I am inadvertently tasked with figuring out how to fill that friendship void. I’m STILL mourning this loss. Each situation I’m presented with where I want to reach out to you is always different so it causes me to deal with the loss from a different angle. They say time heals everything, I guess 20 years takes more than 9 months. I. STILL. MISS. YOU.

My idea of family?!?!? Busted! You, your shenanigans completely ruined that. This took took forever to get over, yet accepting this piece is what actually brought my newfound PEACE. I used to think our family would be a love story for the ages, a dream…something straight out of a fairy tale…after all not everyone lives to marry their high school sweetheart. Before we ever found out I was pregnant WE. WERE. IN. HEAVEN. House hunting, planning, supporting you as you relentlessly pursued your dream career, you supporting me in total entrepreneurship, us making it work. I honestly don’t think I’d ever been happier; it felt like the stars finally aligned in our favor. I daydreamed about our future children looking like you. I dreamt about all the extracurricular activities we’d have them in…actually we talked about them….family gatherings at the kids’ events…..celebrating milestone. I dreamt of how good you’d be with them. I dreamt of us celebrating marital milestones….silver and golden anniversaries…vow renewals with our children by our side. I cloaked myself in the idea of finally breaking the curse of single moms in my family. After all you already had a daughter whom you were very engaged with. I saw the care and love you out into her and I said “wow, my future babies are going to be so lucky.” Then we got the news, and everything changed. Our beautiful boy was born and you weren’t there. You weren’t involved. You missed everything….literally everything. Work was always your excuse. I knew it didn’t feel right, didn’t seem right but I was still optimistic, taking you at your word….then the other shoe dropped and all of a sudden I was a single mom. You were no longer there, not an option. The dreams I had died the day you couldn’t answer where the hell your mother got such a crazy idea. Our plans died, my future died that day. No more marriage, no more house, no more kids(or at least not all by the same person), no more seeing you as a loving father. My vision of you died. My family died that day. Clearly there was no way I could ever open my heart or trust anyone ever again. And really who the hell dates with kids? You mean I’m supposed to trust another man around my child? Ha! No thanks. DEATH. DEATH OF HOPE. DEATH OF DREAMS. DEATH OF FUTURE. FEAR. LONELINESS. DESPAIR. While losing you as a friend was the hardest to mourn and certainly took the most time, death of a future is a hard pill to swallow. How do I get past this? How do I not sink into a depression and give up?

I prayed; I cried!! I prayed on the way to work, throughout the day. I silently cried myself to sleep at night, or every time I saw what presented itself as a loving family. I cried every time your name came through my phone. I sought therapy. I cried there too. I talked about how much I love and now hated you all at the same time. I cried. I prayed while I cried…I cried while I prayed. I repeated that cycle for months. I went on with my life as though nothing changed. The facade was REAL. I immersed myself in my son and his happiness, afterall his happiness and wellbeing was all that matter at this point. I mourned. I haven’t mourned this much or this hard since losing my grandmother. I. MOURNED, but I held it together in public. The majority of my friends and family had no clue what was going on. I carried on and spoke as if “we” was still a thing. “Our” family was fine. I informed you of things going on with the baby. I wrote your name on all pertinent forms, you were still very much apart of “my” life. My mom circle was still that of 2 parent families; dads of the families still asking “when is he gonna take a day off and have a family day with us?” No one knew I was dying inside, I was miserable and I was attempting to come to grips with a new reality. The one thing I needed was time. Time to mourn, time to grieve, time to cry, time to heal. Time is the ONE thing I felt I couldn’t give myself….because I was now a single parent and my everything needed to go into my sweet baby boy. It’s been 9 months and I’m still processing; I’m definitely healing. I feel stronger, I feel better, there’s no longer a pit in my stomach when I see a 2 parent home. No longer a twinge of jealousy and pain when I see a dad with his child. This is still my cross to bear, my child will NOT bear it. Afterall the mother must bear the pain for the son. For the moment I am no longer grieving and all it took was time…..which led to…..acceptance!

Grief.

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I’ve been a mom 19 months; a single mom 9 months, and yet I only made peace with this maybe 3 weeks ago. Sounds crazy right? How is it that my son’s other 23 chromosomes hasn’t seen him in 9 months, hasn’t helped financially in 6 months, calls….no scratch that texts to check on his child once every 6-8 weeks and I JUST came to terms with what I am?!?

Optimism! Hope! Faith! (All lies)

Turns out when you grew up with someone; have known them more than half your life; had one of the deepest multifaceted relationships with that person; know the cycle of the relationship, and down right love them with every fiber of your being….it takes time to let go of that.

First. I mourned for my child. I mourned the fact that he wouldn’t have a relationship with his dad; mourned the fact that he wouldn’t have a relationship with his father’s family; mourned that my child, my innocent baby boy was flat out rejected. Not only was he rejected, he was kept a secret, and to add insult to injury I was lied to about the rejection!! I was crushed, I was devastated. It honestly felt like I’d failed my son. I never wanted him to be the product of a single parent, never wanted him to know the pain and rejection of being unwanted by your father-a parent who’s supposed to love you, protect you, and take care of you….here he was going through the same thing I went through. What am I supposed to tell him when he gets older and asks about a father? How do ai look him in the eyes and tell him that by no fault of his own his father decided not to be in his life? How do I shield him from thinking “his father’s rejection is his own fault?” How do I stop him from thinking “he did something wrong, or that he’s not good enough?” How do I stop him from feeling unloved. How do I tell him that he was named after his grandfather and father who originally was all in? How do I expect him to want to carry the name of the man who rejected him? Oh. My. God….how could I do that to him? SHAME. GUILT. FEAR. PAIN. IMMENSE PAIN. DEATH. I honestly don’t know how long it took me to mourn all of this. Realistically I’m not sure this part is completely over. My son can’t talk, can’t ask questions, right now has no concept of missing anything so I’m sure when these discussions come about this place will be revisited…but for now it’s dead.

Secondly I mourned the death of my future with this man. He and I dated since the age of 14. If we weren’t dating we were best friends. We’ve weathered sick parents, the death of grandparents and other family members. We weathered terrible relationships, broken engagements, multiple job and career changes. We’ve weathered one unplanned child (and not the one we have jointly), we’ve managed a long distance relationship, jailed siblings. We’ve shared our dreams with one another, encouraged each other, supported one another as we pursued said dreams. We’ve been one another’s peace, rational voice, stress reliever, one another’s biggest challenge. We were discussing marriage, looking for houses, financial planning together, discussing our future children then I have our first child and all of a sudden he’s not yours?!?! RAGE. ANGER. DISBELIEF. INSANITY. USED. MISLED.STUPID.CRUSHED.SHAME, GUILT. PAIN. Did I mention STUPID? DEAD. How am I supposed to handle this? How do I process this? How am I supposed to ever want to open my heart to anyone again? How am I supposed to trust? How could I not see this coming? How could I be so stupid? What about our future? How can you throw everything away? What about our family? So Im just supposed to grow old alone? You’re rejecting me? You were there when my donor died, I told you how it felt to be rejected by him. You said “I’d never have to feel that pain again.” You LIED TO ME? You’re rejecting me?!?! AND our son?!? I don’t even know how to feel. I’m confused. I. Feel. NUMB.

I can’t even process this the way I need to because there’s a little boy involved and he needs me. If I’m happy, he’s happy. If I’m calm, he’s calm. I have to act like everything is fine lest I transfer these emotions to my child. How the fuck does anyone do this shit?

……the mother must bear the pain for the child, he can’t bear this.