stuck in the box of the “other mother”
I am in. it. Really and truly. It’s Thursday in a “visitation” week, and my brain is struggling against a label I don’t remember earning but I suppose I have in some respects.
So we’re all on the same page here – my husband has a thirteen-year-old daughter who stays with us every other weekend. Over the past six years, things have gone from confusing to great to awful to confusing and everywhere else in between. To keep a very long story short, to prevent myself from venting and to protect the privacy of a minor, let me just say there is a lot of hurt now from various things that have happened between my husband and me and his daughter’s mother, things that happened between my husband and me and his daughter and things that happened as a result of my inability to be myself while I was recovering from all of the miscarriages. It has not been an easy road, and now we’re all in this in-between where we don’t quite know how to move forward.
I catch myself living in this pain and fear and anger, and I wonder all the time why I can’t just let it go. I try. And I pray. Over and over and over. And things seem to keep coming up, and it all snowballs into one giant mix of pain and fear and anger.
How do you resolve things when you’re up against another mother and you don’t know what’s being taught or said over there, especially about you? You’d think we’d all be on the same side, but it sure doesn’t seem that way.
Perception’s a bitch.
How do you resolve the pain in your heart when there’s no understanding, there will never be an apology, and the hits just keep on coming? How do you show grace and mercy in that?
Rely on God? I’m trying. I’m trying so hard.
I knew when David and I got married that this blended family stuff would be messy, but I was not prepared for this – the constant battle in my mind, the struggle, the anxiety.
I have no clue what I’m doing. I know (I think) all these emotions and negative thoughts come from a place of sadness, grief and fear – for myself, for David and for David’s daughter. That sure doesn’t make it any easier, though. It’s all so confusing.
Maybe it’s not. Maybe there’s a simple answer here that I can’t see through my pain and fear and anger.
I’ll keep looking.
Please don’t judge me too harshly. I wanted to step into it and write about it while I’m here – in it – instead of after. I don’t know if there will ever even be an after, since this is a relationship and it’s constantly evolving and morphing into something different. I just know my pattern, my number one defense – to run away. And I don’t want to do that here. Because maybe, just maybe, someone else is in it, too? Maybe we’re not alone after all?