Monday, February 4, 2013

Single Mother. The life of wife...

Single motherhood. Call me nieve but when I married my highschool sweet heart at the ripe age of eighteen, divorce was never ever a thought in little mind. And certainly when I gave birth eighteen months later, to our precious ten pound beauty single motherhood was not something that ever crossed my mind. You don't get married and plan a family to leave them. Apparently some men, lot's of "men" can't handle it, they self sabatoge, they cheat, they abuse, they leave.

Being a single mother is something that I find a lot of shame in. I feel like people look at me when I hold Addy's little hand, with no ring on my finger, and they think I'm some young stupid girl who got knocked up having unprotected drunk sex with a random stranger. They don't know that we planned for Adaline, that we expected it to take six months to get pregnant, at leastand were extrememly surprised when we saw that pink plus sign in the first two weeks. They don't know that we owned our own home, and that I drove a beautiful car. They don't know that we sacraficed, that Adam went to war multiple times, and I stayed home and waited. They don't know the struggle that you constantly have as the months lead up to them leaving...the way they retract and push you away. The way you struggle for months waiting, trying to do your best to keep the love alive, and send enough care packages to make sure they know you think about them every second. They don't know the stress that reintigration causes, and the panic that starts setting in after a few months of them being gone. Once you find your groove, it's time to start worrying about them coming home. You wait and wait and count down to that minute, drive around for hours in circles waiting for the plane to land so you can finally throw your arms around him. The national anthem plays, you cry tears of pride. You see him walk down those stairs and shake the hands of eveyone that is important, and your heart swells. You are so proud. You made it. You both did. Look how strong you are. He finally spots you in the the cry, he doesn't smile. Your Heart Breaks.

He peaks in the back of the suv and looks in at his little baby, who isn't the little baby he left earlier that year. Your heart breaks. He has you drive home because he hasn't driven anything in months, and the highway freaks him out. Your Heart Breaks. He drops his multiple huge bags on the floor as he walks through the door, and heads straight for the bed. To Sleep. Your heart breaks. You put the baby down for a nap, take off your sexy outfit, and make his dinner. And cry, he's safe, he's home, you can breathe. Your heart breaks. You go lay next to him and hold him, he cries, you make love, his eyes aren't the same. His body isn't the same. Your heart breaks. The tears fall, and you lay there holding eachother crying, ugly crying. Then the baby cries over the monitor, she's standing in her crib and has thrown everything onto the floor. You get up, wipe the tears, get dressed and go bring her into your bed. This is something that has become really normal for you, the crying, the surviving...your heart breaks. Days, weeks, months pass...he doesn't speak. You make yourself believe everything is fine, you smile, inside you cry, you made it, he made it. He made amazing friends while he was gone, and so did you. You have a new family. And you spend every free moment surrounded by them. You loose eachother. Your hear breaks. Around the fire on Saturday nights you hear stories he never told, stories you never wanted to hear. Ever. Your heart breaks. Later you hold him tighter, love him harder. You don't ask about the story, because if he wanted to tell you, he would have already told you. Your heart breaks.

Four months pass, and he's already got oreders...again. Your heart breaks. The next sixty days fly by...deployment check lists, trying to fit in all the family fun he will miss, you wash his clothes, you pack his bags, you make his favorite dinners, you cry and cry and cry, but he never knows. You can do this, you've done it before, you'll be fine, he will be fine. You know this isn't true. Nothing will ever be fine again. Your heart breaks. You don't speak at normal volumes any more, the amount of times that a simple question turns into you held up against the wall by your throat, is more then you'd like to count. Your heart breaks.

Through it all the only thing you can see is your little baby. You have to do this for her. She needs her father. A girl needs her Daddy. Before you know it the day has come, you wake up at two am, put the baby in the car, he drives to the plane. He hugs you both, kissses you a million times, and just one more like it's the last time he will every get to kiss you again, gets his stuff and walks away. You get into the drivers seat and watch your heart walk away...again. Your heart breaks. You drive home, blairing your sad heart soundtrack, and cry. Big ugly cry. Get it out and overwith. You pull in the garage, put the baby to bed and lay in bed and wait for the text to come that says he's on the plane. Your Heart Breaks. For the next fourty-eight hours you wait for the calls, then that final call saying "I'm here, I made it". Your heart breaks.

This time you know what to expect, or do you? Your friendships get stronger, your marriage gets weaker...In three years you have spent a total of ninteen months apart. He comes home, it's a lot of the're surviving, trying desperately to be a family again. It isn't working. More of the distance, more of the yelling, more of the being pushed up against the wall, both literally and figuritively. Your heart doesn't break anymore. You survive, you get through the day, you try your best to do everthing right, you are strong, you get strong, what choice do you have, really? You won't be a single mom, besides you practically already are. He started traveling as soon as his R&R leave ended. For two weeks he was yours...or was he? The months tick by, he's gone for a week, home for three days, gone again. Your life becomes a constant cycle of two am drop offs, last kisses, and first kisses. You are so lost. Your heart is already can't get any worse. But it's gotta get better, rite?

It doesn't. And before you know it, he comes home with a girl friend. He doesn't love you anymore. He tells you he hasn't loved you since the first time he left and came home. You fight to hold on. You will not be a single mother. You already do this won't do this alone alone. Your daughter needs a father, you need a will you look? What will everyone say? How are you going to start over? You refuse. Then it gets so bad that one day you find yourself locking him out of the house, you run across the street to your best friends house, leave the baby where she will be safe and loved. Something you've been doing more often then not the last two weeks...Before you know it you call home... You're packing your bags, saying goodbye to your home, hugging your friends, and saying goodbye to him. This isn't permanent, he will come after us. By Christmas we will be back here. Christams comes and Christmas goes...he doesn't come. He doesn't apologize. He doesn't beg. He doesn't cry. He doesn't care.

Your daughter will grow up with out a father. You are alone alone. You have to start over, you have to build a life, you have to be two people. You've done it before, this will be the same rite? Wrong.

Thirty percent of couples who married under the age of twenty end in divorce. Add that to the ten percent of military divorces...the odds weren't good.

I am a single mother. At age 22, after four years of marriage, I am a single mother. I hate to even use that term, so much negativity surrounds it. So much pressure is behind those five words, so much shame.

Adaline and I have been struggling to find our groove. We've spent more time kicking our feet, yelling at eachother and holding eachother crying then I ever expected before she turned thirteen. Making a peanut butter and jelly sandwhich with out ruining my makeup has now become a victory. Making it through the day with out falling to pieces has become a win. When did life turn into this? How did this happen? How do I fix it? I am a single mother...of a two and a half year old, struggling, crawling, falling apart. My heart is broken.


  1. I am praying for you. You have been on my heart since I started reading your blog. I too have a 2 1/2 year old little girl and it breaks my heart to read what you're going through. You are a strong woman, even when you don't think you're strong, you are. I'll be praying for you.

    "I Can Do All Things Through Christ Who Strengthens Me" Philippians 4:13

  2. silly girl, you will never be alone ALONE. :) love ya! stay strong, it will get better. and it will get easier. things don't always turn out how we plan them, but they do ALWAYS turn out how they are suppose to.

  3. You are so strong! And you will only get stronger! My husband left when my son was 14 months old...and returned a year later. That was six years ago. We are now better people and a better couple because of it, but I know all about the victory of making it through the day without completely breaking down. Getting healthy and loving myself more is what saved me. Kickboxing is awesome therapy!!

    You have so much ahead of you. And your path is leading you to somewhere great - trust in that.

  4. You are so much stronger than words can say. Trust in this. Every day, every week, you will get closer to being okay with the way things are and you will realize that being without a father isn't the worst thing for a little girl if that father wasn't really invested to begin with...
    I hope you have a good day and I hope you know that, through this little blog of yours, you are never alone and you have friends far and wide.

  5. She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future. Proverbs 31:25

    That is one of my favorite verses. I think you are beautiful and strong. You have done what had to be done for the wellbeing of yourself & your child and I admire you for it.

    I read your post from today too (2-4-13) and will give you all the reminders you need to take care of yourself. You have a beautiful little girl who depends on you.

    Sending my LOVE from MN!

  6. You can do this. I can't imagine what you're going through. I am a young mother and wife too and I can't imagine how hard it is but you are doing an incredible job. You are so strong. I'm praying for you and Addy

  7. You can do this momma! At 22 you are much stronger than I will ever be at 34. I will be praying for you girly, but know that you will be okay.

  8. Love you!!! You know I am here for you! God has the perfect husband for you and the perfect Daddy for Addy! I was EXACTLY where you are and if you would have told me I would meet and fall in love with Jeremy and things would be like they are I would have seriously LAUGHED in your face!!! We are here for you!

  9. You can do this! Just you writing that shows how strong you are!

  10. oh my gosh this had me crying at are stronger than you think, I promise. My mom was a single mom for as long as I can remember and I look back and think "how was she so strong?" I never saw her cry (that I can remember) and she had to be strong for me. That little girl will grow up thinking that the momma she had was better than any momma and daddy she could've had. She will be proud of you and so so thankful for you. You can make it girl. Be strong<3

  11. I am sorry for the pain that you are going through. You are strong and you will conquer this battle of being a single mom. Hugs to you.

  12. I just found your blog and I completely understand. Coming from a 29 year old woman who went through (almost) the same thing, you will be okay, I promise. Your daughter will see that she has a strong amazing mother and she will never see you be abused mentally or physically. She will learn to be a strong woman, and you will both be happy. One healthy parent is far better than two unhealthy ones. Huge hugs from one single military wife to another.