Hope ya'll have a Merry Christmas!

Love,

April, Reese, and Carson

It's that time of year again...

Mmmm, Christmas time again. Not the easiest time of year to be a single mommy, but defintely not the worst either. Yes, I get emotional thinking about past Christmases with my ex. You might even say I miss him from time to time. Decorating the tree was difficult because he wasn't there to see the smile on Reese's face. Christmas parties are tough because he's not there to make everyone laugh. I am sure Christmas Eve will be hard because he won't be with me putting our kids' presents out...he will be with her putting her kids' presents out. Then almost immediately, I realize no he's not here and he won't be here, but I am. I will always be here. Every single Christmas morning I will see the excitement on their faces when they see what Santa brings. I will be here making sure Santa comes. I will enjoy those moments that I made possible. I will do everything in my power to make sure my children have memorable and meaningful holidays. I will come up with fun traditions for our new little family. I will have the honor of watching their eyes light up and the pleasure of knowing I did that. So, yeah, this time of year can bring to light some old sentimental feelings, but it can create some new ones too. :)

To my precious baby girl...

"We need to teach our daughters how to distinguish between a man who flatters her and a man who compliments her, a man who spends money on her and a man who invests in her, a man who lusts after her and a man who loves her, a man who believes he is God's gift to women and a man who remembers that a woman was God's gift to man. "

A friend posted this as his status (which I thought was adorable that a guy posted it) and it brought tears to my eyes as I read it. I began thinking about my sweet little girl. Sometimes as a mommy I lose sight of the big picture. I get so busy trying to teach her rhyming words, inside voices, and not to put my makeup on that I forget to use every opportunity to teach her about becoming a Christian woman. Granted, these are very important, age appropriate lessons; but I need to do more. I looked through her baby book the other day, remembering what it was like to be a family with a mommy AND a daddy. I read the letters I wrote to her the day I found out I was pregnant and the day she was born. I told her that I was already praying for a strong, sweet boy that would grow up to be her husband. In the midst of my own boy drama, I quit praying for that little boy. My prayer has become a plea that she will never feel the pain that we have felt in the past year. I think somewhere in my scattered head that I decided she should avoid it all together, all because of the pain her father caused us both. That is not only unfair to her, but an injustice to that little boy that I used to pray for. The one who could love her the way she deserves and be lucky enough to be loved by her. My little girl has a heart that knows no bounds. It is tender, kind, forgiving, and so full of love. I want her to share that with someone one day. Someone worthy of her. Someone who will cherish her, respect her, and grow with her. Someone who will stand by her and love her enough to never leave.

I know there is no gurantees that he will never break her heart. Boy,do I EVER know that. But when I think about the day of my wedding. The day I promised myself to her daddy. I want my little girl to know that feeling. I want her to be overwhelmed with the love that she feels for her mate. I want her to be able to look into his eyes while holding his hands and say "I do" with no hesitation. Outside of the birth days of my two babies, my wedding day was the happpiest day of my life. Regardless of the outcome of the marriage, I have no regrets. I loved him with all my heart and I made those promises with forever in mind. My job is to teach Reese to be selective and choose someone who she believes will put God first and his family second. I need to show her the importance of finding a man who will be a good father to my future grandchildren (WHOA! I have never said that. Feels weird!). I want her to love and to be loved, but the right way, the way God intended. My promise to both of my kids is to do everything I can to prepare them to be a good husband and a good wife someday. It's scary, I am scared I will make one wrong move and mess them up for life. I am scared they will look at their paternal being and think that is the way things should be done. This just means I need to work harder to teach them the sanctity of marriage. I need them to understand the meaning of "til death do us part". I need to continue praying for them, but also I need to begin praying for their future husband and wife.

So thank you Clifton Angel, for your wonderful post that caused this chain reaction in my brain. :)


This is the letter I wrote to Reese

Reese Katelyn,
Today I was reminded that one day you will grow into a beautiful woman. I try not to think about you growing up. I block out the fact that my baby girl will will not be a baby forever. But on these rare occasions that I let myself think about the not-so-distant future I think of all the things I want for you.

First and foremost, I want you to remember God. Put him first in everything you do. Pray, pray, and then pray some more. I want you to know that you are loved. There are so many people who love you, but no one loves you like your momma. Sweetheart, I prayed a long time for you. Even before I met your daddy, and you are a living breathing answer to that prayer. You have brought me more joy than I could ever describe. You and your brother are the best things that have ever been mine. I also want you to know that me and your daddy were happy at one time. I loved him and expected to be with him forever. Grown up stuff happened that had nothing to do with you and Carson. I hope that you will always remmeber our trip to the beach. I will always believe that was the happiest the 3 of us ever were. (4 if you count Carson in my belly)

I want you to cherish your baby brother. Be an example to him. Stay close no matter where in life you are. Your Uncle Bubba is one of my best friends on this earth. Be there for Carson when he needs you and lean on him when you need him. Your brother will always look up to you. He will ask you for advice and stand up for you when you need it.

I want you to work hard, be honest, and love with all you have. Forgive those who hurt you. Don't be afraid to cry, ride roller coasters, or fall in love. Never give up on your dreams and your goals. Be choosy when choosing your friends and even choosier when choosing a husband. Study hard in school. No, you won't see the need for Algebra at the time, but it will come in handy later. When your heart gets broken, I want you to remember it won't hurt forever and you will most definitely be stronger on the other side. Be selfless, and help others. Stay loyal, wither it's to your favorite football team or your best friend. I would like for you to play softball, but if you don't want to I won't be disappointed. But if you do decide to play, practice hard and be proud of your accomplishments no matter how small, and never slide into home head first!

I want you to appreciate your teenage years. Don't wish your life away. But keep in mind every action has a consequence. What you do when you're young doesn't vanish with old age. Always apologize when you are wrong. Learn from your mistakes. Learn a second language. Make moments count. Slow down and breathe them in. Hold your babies close as long as they will let you. Love your husband completely. Take a cooking class. Don't waste your first kiss, make it count. And if a boy loves you, he will wait for you.

Respect your elders. One day you will realize they knew more than you thought they did. Find something you are passionate about. Don't waste your talents. Use your hard headedness wisely. Wear sunscreen. Never, EVER, settle in anything. Strive for great, not good. Embrace your roots. Fairy tales can happen, you just have to work at it. Appreciate your in-laws. Know how to change a tire and drive the speed limit. I want you to make good choices. When in doubt, read your Bible. Take lots of pictures, you will be glad you did one day.

Reese's Pieces, I just want you to be healthy, happy, and have the life you dream of. I love you more than words can express and will be with you every step of the way. It's ok to be scared. It's ok to mess up. It's more than ok to want your mommy every once in a while no matter how old you are. And baby girl, I will be there.

Love,
Mommy

Somethings I Wish I Was

Since becoming a single mom, or actually a mom period I find myself watching other moms. At Bible class, in the grocery store, at restaurants, in the park...I am always observing other moms with their kids. Sometimes I admire these moms, with their calm and positive reactions to misbehaving children. They seem to have their stuff together. Their diaper bag is perfectly packed with all the necessities, they have on matching clothes AND makeup, their kids all have shoes on BOTH feet. These moms don't seem human to me. They have superhero qualities. I have to admit, I also spend sometime judging some moms too. These moms look like they haven't slept in days, their kids are dirty and loud, they are usually either not paying attention to their kids or yelling at them. They often don't have a diaper bag at all. In fact the only thing they seem to have is their smartphone which they barely look up from. I see myself as somewhere in the middle of these two categories. There are plenty of things I need to improve on and somethings I have down to an art, but there are somethings that I wish I was.



I wish I was graceful. I see moms who seem to float into stores with their double stroller and they browse around as if they have all day. I see moms with their infants on their hips as if the child is weightless. On the other side they have a toddler holding their hand. They move at a steady pace with all the grace in the world. Ok, this ain't me! I'm the chick who gets the stroller stuck in the door, runs over anything in the way, trips, falls, bumps into stuff. I usually have Carson on my hip a huge diaper bag on the other shoulder and most of the time I am chasing Reese. I'm the mom who manages, but doesn't make it look very pretty. You know in football when the quaterback throws the ball to a receiver, he bobbles the ball maybe even deflects it, maybe a huge lineman accidentally catches it and rumbles into the endzone for a touchdown? Yeah, I'm that huge lineman. I get the job done, score the 6 points; but it certainly isn't an attractive play. There are many times like when my stroller wheel is caught on the door at wal-mart, or I fall UP some concrete steps while loading the car, or I look like I am about to drop everything in my hands while I unlock the front door that I wish I could be more graceful. I want to be like that floating mom. I want to be the receiver who makes an amazing catch on the tips of his fingers and trots effortlessly into the endzone.





I also wish I was organized. No one loves organizing more than me. I am a nerd. I love my Sharpies, calenders, Excel spreadsheets, baskets, and labels. I like the IDEA of organizing. Keeping things in order is a whole nother story. That mom that has the diaper bag perfectly packed with everything she needs makes me so jealous. I want that bag! I want those things in my bag. If Reese skins her knee, I want to have a band-aid handy. If I need Carson's shot record, I want to know exactly where it is. I try, I really do. I put forth a ton of effort to organize and stay on top of it,, but it never works. I am the mom digging to the bottom of the bag in the middle of worship services trying to find the snacks that are more than likely still on the counter where I fixed them that morning. I'm the one who never has the wipe container filled up. When I need an extra outfit for the kids, it isn't there. My car is a wreck, there are toys, goldfish crackers, and dead flowers all over the floorboards. There are clothes piled to the ceiling where I have been going from house to house to save on gas. I try to stay in Southaven if I have things to do up there so I'm not driving back and forth from Arkabutla. My room is clean, but I have no idea where anything is. I live with my grandmother, so my stuff just got put where there was space. I want to be organized and resourceful. I want to be on time. I want to remember appointments. I am always rushing , which makes the craziness even crazier. I always look like I just ran a marathon when I arrive somewhere usually 10-20 minutes late. I try to look put together, but I don't. I look like I was together at one point, but came unraveled at some point. That point may have been when I spent 20 minutes looking for keys or my cell phone which was in my pocket the whole time. Maybe it was when we were walking out the door and Carson has a blow out diaper, or Reese falls in the dirt. Possibly, the unraveling occurred when I drove 10 minutes up the road and realized I forgot the paperwork I needed for an appointment or my wallet. Again, I manage, but it most certainly is not a pleasant sight. It is the epitome of chaos. It's entertaining enough for a reality show, but not what you would call organized.

I wish I was more patient and positive. No, I don't scream at my kids. I don't ignore them while they wreak havoc on the playground. I don't jerk them up and pop their bottom when they misbehave. I do find myself saying "No!" or "Stop!" a lot. No, not a lot. CONSTANTLY. While I was in Texas last week (which I plan on blogging about soon), I noticed my cousin Shana Kaye didn't automatically give those type of commands. She asked nicely for Reese to not play the piano at 7:00 am. She found other things for Carson to keep him from pulling the XBOX out on the floor. She was very positive and patient when dealing with my kids and hers. We do fine at home, but in public I get anxious and feel the impending breakdown from both kids coming so I get flustered and rushed. I don't count to 3 before I say anything. I get caught up in trying to avoid the climax of the fit throwing and forget any methods I have learned and just want to get out of the situation. I have left people's homes, grocery stores, Bible class, and restaurants because the kids are ganging up on me and it's not worth the work to continue to stay there. My kids aren't bad. In fact, they are very good. Yeah, Reese seems to be running on a motor and reminds me of the Tasmanian Devil on Looney Tunes; but she is a good girl. She has a tender heart, and is eager to please. She just has focus issues. Carson is 11 months...enough said.


So while I do a good job, I would like to do a better job at somethings. I'm a work in progress!

To My Favorite Boy On Your Birthday

Dear Carson,
One year ago today the doctor laid a precious 7lb 2oz baby boy in my arms. I can't describe the feeling I felt when I looked at your chubby little cheeks and counted every finger and tiny little toe. I lifted your cap to see a full head of dark, soft hair. You looked a lot like your big sister did when she was born. I will never forget the pride that I felt. I was so proud to hold you after waiting so long for you. I didn't realize it till that second, but I had been waiting for you my whole life. The day before you were born some yucky grown up stuff happened that left mommy in a lot of pain and very scared, but when I held you close to me I forgot it all. It was like you were meant to save me from the hurt. You were my gift from God. You and your sister completed my life. When Daddy decided not to live with us anymore, I thought there was no way I could do it without him. I was so scared that I couldn't give you and Reese what you needed, but once I held you and felt your sweet little hand on my face I knew I would do whatever it took to give you and Reese the life that I promised you. In the past year, you have brought me so much joy and laughter. Your smile is what I live to wake up to each morning. When you say "Mama" my heart melts. Your sweet, slobbery kisses make my day, ever day! People tell me how strong I am and how I'm a good mom, but it's you and Reese who are the strong ones. The two of you make it easy to be a good mom. I named you after your Grandaddy because of his generosity, his strength, his love, and his forgiving heart. I hope that these are all qualities you will get from my amazing daddy. I hope that one day when you are old enough and you hear stories about before you were born and right after that you will be strong and loving and forgiving. I pray that you will not let the mistakes made by me and your father affect the relationship you have with either of us. I hope you never forget how loved you are, not just by me, but by lots and lots of people. There have been so many people who were there for us and helped us get through this past year. I love you Carson Wesley, and I plan on spending the the rest of my life showing you and Reese how thankful I am to have you. Thank you for giving me a reason to smile. Thank you for giving me hope and happiness again. Happy first birthday little man! Mommy loves you and will do everything in my power to protect you and give you the kind of life you deserve!

A Two Day Emotionfest!

With the one year anniversary of my husband leaving and my son's birthday approaching, I am beginning to wonder what kind of emotional state I will be in. What am I going to feel, think, and remember? What thoughts are going to run through my head? I am sure both days will be bittersweet and full of memories.

Will I be mournful? Will I remember the husband that is now dead to me? I can see myself thinking back on the good times that we had, and digging up significant memories that we shared during our short marriage. Will I torture myself by reliving the day he left over and over in my head? As much as I don't want to think about it or dwell on the pain, there are always reminders that stop me dead in my tracks. Even on the best of days, something will cause my head to be flooded with thoughts of him and the life we would have had. Little things such as a movie, a song, something one of our children does or says. These things come from out of no where and catch me off guard. Granted they come less frequently than before, and their effect is less intense...but they are still there. They say mourning the end of my marriage and the death of the man that I married is healthy. It's just part of the process, right? So naturally, on the one year anniversary that he walked away from me, our family, and our life together I can only assume the pain will be more present on this day than most. It's scary, I used to hurt all the time. Now that I have become accustomed to being okay, is the pain going to be overwhelming? I feel like I'm waiting on a surgical procedure, unsure of how bad the recovery will be. Will it be a twinge of uncomfortableness here and there? Will I be in constant agony like before? How long will it last? How can I speed up the healing process?

Will I mourn the first few months of my baby's life? Those awful months that I can barely remember. Will I go back to the day he was born and the mix of emotions I felt that day. Will the guilt be stronger than it is every other day that goes by? It seems impossible that Carson will be one year old in four days. I missed out on so much with him, beginning with his birth. My head and my heart were on emotional overload. I was happy and excited to meet my son, but that was overshadowed by the tragedy that happened the day before. I was worried about his health. Had he been in distress too long. I had not slept the night before and stayed up all night crying. Did I hurt him? I was delighted to be able to tell my daddy I named my son after him, but scared to death to tell him my husband moved out the day before. I had to try to keep it a secret. For Carson's sake. I wanted him to be born into a happy family. I wanted every one's focus on the baby, not my ending marriage. I wanted so bad for Paul to hold him and realize that he made a mistake and there was no way he could walk away from us. My emotions were literally all over the place. Some birth day, huh? Luckily, Carson can't remember that day. He was happy, healthy, and beautiful. I missed out on the precious bonding that I had looked forward to for eight months. I couldn't hold him and stare at him with love and adoration. Don't get me wrong I loved that boy with all my heart, but I always felt like I was hurting him more by holding him. When I looked at him, I hurt, I cried, and I got angry. My husband had tarnished the entire process of bringing a baby into the world. Those first few months I was robbed of all the excitement of being a mommy to a newborn. Again, luckily Carson won't remember that either. Will this be what I think about the day my baby boy turns one? When he's blowing out his candle and making a mess with his cake will I be in tears? Will my heart break all over again because he was born a year ago into such awful circumstances?

Maybe I will be appreciative on these days. I have learned in the past year to be thankful for what I had and what I have. I had an amazing husband for four years and 3 months. I was married to the most loving, sincere, kind, and patient man. We had a good run. I have so many good memories that no one can take away from me. Our wedding day, Disney world, my first live NFL game, his first trip to the beach, getting him hooked on General Hospital, the night we met, and of course the birth of our daughter. He may have broken my heart, but before he did he made me a mommy. That trumps anything else. He made my dream come true. He gave me two perfect children. So, yeah I went through hell on earth for the past year but I have my memories and I have my kids. I have all I need, and I am eternally grateful for that. I can be appreciative of the fact that Carson was born, yeah it wasn't the best of circumstances, but he is here. He is healthy, and I have the rest of my life to love him. In the past year he and Reese have given me more joy than I can measure. They have pulled me through the darkest times and been the reason for the best of times. Hopefully, over the next few days I will be able to remember how lucky I have been. God has blessed me with so much. These anniversaries are an opportunity to remind me what I DO have, not what I DON'T have.

I am sure I will feel a sense of pride. Looking back at where I was then and how far I've come in a year, I am extremely proud of myself. I was a mess. I didn't want to get out of bed. I was disappointed when I woke up in the mornings and realized the world was still going on. I never considered ending my life, but I could definitely see how some people entertain the thought. I just wanted the pain to stop. I went from rock bottom to here in 362 days. I have worked hard to bring myself back, learn from the experience, and move forward. I am in the process of getting my degree in a field that I love. I am proud of my grades and my effort in school. Mostly, I am proud of the mother that I have become. I try everyday to be exactly what these kids need. I'm not perfect by any means, but I strive to be. When I was in that deep, dark place I never thought I would get out. I was so sure this was life now. I was afraid this was a permanent condition, but it wasn't. Slowly, I began to find my way out. I didn't do it alone, I had my kids, my family, and some incredible friends who helped me. I can be proud of my son. He is resilient, smart, and has gorgeous blue eyes that make me melt. He seems unphased by the chaos that has whirled around him since he came into the world. He is loving and gentle, but a tough little boy at the same time. So when the time comes for me to acknowledge the fact that a year ago my world fell apart, I pray that I realize that in one year I managed to put it back together. A year ago, a 7 lb 2 oz little boy was born in a less than perfect situation, but he was still able to grow into this awesome little man who has my heart!

Like I said, I don't really know what to expect to feel, but I hope that I am excited and optimistic. Excited about the end of all the firsts. I will have gone through every holiday, every major event, and even minor activities as a single mom. In the past year, I have experienced life without my husband. There are no more firsts looming in the future. I made it through Christmas, our anniversary, the first grocery shopping trip, a new home, and the signing of the divorce papers. From here on out I've been there and done that. I can move forward with out questions like the ones in this post. I can be excited that my baby is a year old and I can celebrate him. I can be optimistic for the future and this new life I have built. My fresh clean start will truly begin. The past year has molded me into a new person and I can see great things down the road. I can look beyond the pain caused from the past and see my goals being met. I have this gift of a second chance and a new appreciation for life and the blessings I have.

These two days will definitely be emotional and full of meaning. I will probably feel a little bit of everything. All I know for sure is that I have made it through some pretty traumatic stuff this year, so this should be a piece of cake!

I'm Pumped!

As cheesy as it sounds, I decieded to become a teacher in order to make a difference. I remember the teachers that made an impact in my life and I want to do that for my students. I always cheer for the underdog. I want to take the child that doesn't have a chance and give them that chance. I just watched a video of my professor who has cerebral palsy. She was told at the age of 5 that she would never go to school. She is now teaching Intro to Special Education for Ole Miss. She can't walk, has limited control of her hands, and can barely talk; but this woman fought her way in and through school. She mentions some of the educators who helped her and changed her life. I want to be that teacher. I want to influence students to do better in order to give themselves more opportunities later in life. I want to convince the kid who gets run down at home that he is worth something and capable of whatever he sets his mind to. I want to show the girl with ADHD that with certain strategies and techniques, she can use her "disorder" to her advantage. I always say I was born to be a mom. Well, what better way to use my talents than be a teacher? The pay is awful, the benefits are probably not that great, and the lunch is nasty; but the rewards are lifelong. I want to witness that a-ha moment when the kids comprehend a skill that I taught them. I want to teach my students lessons they will carry with them to high school. I've also been researching Asperger's Syndrome for this same class, and there is a part of me that thinks I would love to deal with special education students. I am facinated by this disorder and the functionality of it. Children with Asperger's are often bright and some even wind up in gifted classes. I'm not sure about being strictly a special education teacher, but I do know I will welcome the opportunity to teach in an inclusive enviornment. I believe it is extremely important, not only to the children WITH the disabilities, but to the ones WITHOUT as well. We need to teach our children to be sensitive, supportive, and accepting of those with disabilities. I do not feel that sticking special education students in a seperate room all day teaches that concept.


Anyway, after watching that video and seeing what all Dr. Harper had to go through...the heartache, the setbacks, the skeptics...I know I can do this. I feel ridiculous and selfish for thinking I couldn't finish school just because I had a crappy husband who left me as a single mom. I know I can do this, and I am more determined than ever to reach my goals and be that teacher that makes a difference.

Here I Go Again On My Own...Chapter Two

Well, I did it. I got divorced. Even though my marriage had been over for almost a year, last Friday I signed the official documents that dissolved the vows and promises we made to each other. I was pretty emotional that day. I cried all the way to the court house. I sent my ex a text telling him it was the last time I could call him my husband and pleaded with him to be the man he wanted. I told him he was better than this, and better than her. I told him to never give up on the dreams he had and that I hoped he found his way again. Blah. Blah. Blah. 30 minutes later he was accusing me of everything under the moon. I apparently leave my kids any and everywhere, go out of town with my friends' husbands (dripping with irony, huh?), as well as bought myself a Tahoe that I never got to drive. Anyway, I gave in on the money so I could get my kids every Christmas morning and sole legal and physical custody. I can move anywhere in the world I wanna move and I have complete control and care of my babies. I got everything I wanted! I even got the stupid TV that he wanted so bad. He told me after the lawyers left that I really hurt him with the TV. Really?!? Dude, are you serious?!?! I hurt you? Then he called me selfish. At this point I was beyond ready to scribble my name on those papers and get out of there. Since then, I haven't cried. I haven't felt anything, but relief and excitement for the future. I have been dealing with this for so long. Friday was like a huge, deadbeat, lowdown, lying, cheating weight had been lifted off my chest.

So on to chapter two!! I'm excited about my new life with my kids. I have some awesome things in store for us as a family. I plan on focusing on being the best mom I can and getting through school. I couldn't help but think about the past year as I was signing those papers. The pain, the disappointment, and especially the progress I have made. I'm not one for complimenting myself...EVER, but I have done a pretty decent job of not going insane and muddling through this train wreck. I kept trying to save my marriage until I was comfortable letting go. Once I realized I didn't want it anymore either, I was able to move forward and start the healing process. I know that I am not 1oo% in the clear. I am sure at some point it will all hit me and it may still be hard at times. But when I look back at where I was 11.5 months ago or even 6 or 7 months ago, I know I will be fine. I made it through those dark and intensely painful months, I can make it through anything this divorce has left for me. I'm ready, bring it on. I got this. I am thrilled to think of the new doors that have been opened to me. Life took me down a road I didn't understand, and I still don't get it completely. One day I will. One of these days I will say "Huh, that's what I've been waiting on." This new chapter will be full of learning experiences, goals being met, and dreams coming true. Of course life wouldn't be complete without some heartache. Like I said though, after what I've been through I have faith that I can make it through anything.

So if you can bare it, stay tuned for the next exciting chapter in the story of a single mom with two amazing kids who keep me on my toes and make life interesting.

Letting Go of the Hate

No, pigs didn't fly and as far as I know Hell is still hot, but I DID talk to my ex-friend who is now living with my husband. She came with Paul to drop the kids off one day. My blood was boiling. I couldn't believe this piece of junk brought that huzzy to my house. I thought all the way to church how much I hated the two of them. I hated them for hurting me and my kids. I hated them for being able to be happy while I was in agony. I hated them for breathing. Once I got to church the lesson was on anger. I realized that I had focused too much on the people who hurt me. I had let the anger and hatred interfere with my relationship with God. I decided that I was letting it go. He was gone, I had known that for quite some time. Why was I wasting energy hating them? I was exhausted. It was time to give it up. Now, please don't get me wrong. This new epiphany was not going to result in double dates or cookouts with them. The best I can do at this point is stop hoping they contract a flesh eating virus or their eyeballs fall out. And guess who texted me the next day! Yep! Devil woman herself. What a coinkie dink! I answered her questions about Reese's Jessie doll and why her kids call me Pookie. Then I just came out and asked her, "How is it you can talk to me like this now, but on facebook and in public with your family and friends you hate me and berate me.?" We had a long chat via text messages, and got to the bottom of some rumors she had started and some issues that I had. Then, for the first time in 10 months (to the day, no doubt) I got a heartfelt apology from someone I used to consider a close friend. I'm not sure forgiveness is ever going to be possible. Even in the Bible for a person to earn forgiveness there has to be a change in the behavior or actions. For now, I can only let go of the hate and move forward with my life. I think this is another important step in the healing process. No, I'm not over it. If I never saw either of them again, I'd be just peachy. But I am so done with the obsessing over the how and when. I am sick of getting upset over people who obviously didn't care about me and who are a complete waste of my time and energy. Now, I am embracing my new life. I can start over and be whatever I want, including a little less bitter....just a little. :)

Downhill from here???

I haven't posted in a while, mainly due to not having access to internet. Another reason is I didn't want another depressing post so I just kept quiet. In the month of April, I had to reread all text messages from my husband and his girlfriend. I found messages from 3 weeks before he left telling me how much he loved me and never wants to lose me. I found messages from her telling me she wishes she could take the pain away and how she loved me and he would be back. I had to relive the entire situation. Then as soon as I turned the papers in to the lawyer I found out I was losing my house. I had to pack up 5 years worth of memories. I ran across cards Paul had given me, wedding presents we still hadn't used, and pictures of our life together. I found the scrapbook I made him the night before we got married. I opened a box that had ticket stubs, notes, and the boxes our wedding bands came in. I had to pack up my children and move them out of the only home they had known. Not to mention, I didn't really have a definite plan on where we were moving to. I decided to take them out to the country in Arkabutla and live with my Mimi. It's quiet there. No access to Facebook, which was driving me crazy. Barely a cell phone signal to be found. Somewhere I once called my home, would now be my children's home. The weekend we moved was also my fifth wedding anniversary. On that day, his girlfriend posted songs such as "Boom, I Got Your Boyfriend" and "Number One." She publically laughed and thought it was funny that she ended up with my husband. So needless to say, April was a rough month. I spent the entire month in the past. Remembering the good and reliving the pain. It felt like the day he walked out all over again, but just like I lived through last July, I lived through the month of April.

Well, April showers bring May flowers, right? It is finally May. Today is the ninth day of the month, and I am feeling much better. I am getting settled in our new home. I am taking the next step in the divorce preceedings. I am putting one foot in front of the other. I am digging myself out of this hole. People tell me all the time, "I don't know how you do it." Honestly, neither do I. I just do it. Sometimes it is still hard to make myself get out of bed, but I do it. It makes me want to puke to let him have my children, but I have to do it. There are days when I don't feel like being strong, but I just do it. Sounds like a Nike commercial, huh? But that's really how it goes. No secret really. I like having distractions, but they come and go. So, now that I have this new outlook and positive attitude, does that mean it's all downhill from here? Am I finally seeing light at the end of the tunnel? I know for a fact, the pain isn't over. The pain is going to be there. And the wanting him back has been gone, so I'm super great there. I'm pretty sure this divorce being final will be a weight lifted off my shoulders. I can really move on, in every sense of the word. I'll be free. CAN. NOT. WAIT. I'm so ready for the next chapter in my life. I have a clean slate; a new beginning. I learned a huge lesson about settling, and I won't do it again! My kids and I will have everything we deserve in life and I will make sure of it.

Bouncing...

I watched this movie years ago called Bounce. Not a very good movie at all. I only watched it because it had Ben Affleck in it. It was way to much of a chick flick for me. Anyway, in the movie a woman's husband dies in a plane crash. Her friend tells her the plane crashed, not her. She tells her she has to bounce. Later in the movie, the woman tells someone, "That's what I've been doing...bouncing. It's like crashing, but you get to do it over and over again." Well that's what I am doing. I am bouncing. The lows are awful. They come from out of no where and sometimes for no reason at all. I find myself wondering how in the world this happened. I miss the life I had before. I wonder what it would have been like as a family of four with our little girl and baby boy. I dread our upcoming anniversary. I experience firsts without him all the time. Then there are the highs. Just when I get comfortable in this rut of self pity and sleepless nights, something happens. Maybe a small something or a big something. Maybe a string of somethings, but somehow I always bounce back up. A lot of the times it is something my precious Reese says, or the smile on my baby Carson's face. Maybe a phone call from my favorite person in the world, or dinner with my oldest and bestest friend. Things just start to come together for me and I see all the positives of this situation. Last week was hard. I don't remember what brought it on, but I cried a lot. I missed my husband a lot, and I asked "Why?" a whole lot. I get so used to doing well and not hurting as much that when it does hit...it hits HARD! I miss my old life. I miss having someone to share my life with and talk with. I see my baby girl's face when she tells me she is sad and wants her daddy to come home. The pain is almost unbearable for a little bit. It reminds me of the day he left. The physical pain in my chest comes back. The uncontrolable crying starts again. It all comes flooding back. It doesn't happen often, and it is pretty random when it does. On Monday, I found out I got back into the education program at Ole Miss. This means if I work extra hard and do well in all my classes, I could be teaching in Fall of 2012. I was so excited and proud of myself. I did that without him. In spite of being broken and alone, I accomplished something for myself and my children. The future, and I mean the NEAR future was looking brighter. I have also come to realize that I have not been bouncing alone. Sometimes, I feel so alone I can't stand it. That could not be further from the truth though. I have some of the most amazing people supporting me, encouraging me, and helping me. I have become closer to some very fabulous people because of my situation, people that have been through similar situations in their lives. I have had people offer to keep my babies to let me get errands done. People have brought me groceries, cooked me dinners, listened to me cry, made me laugh, bought things for my kids and even for me. None of this surprises me about these people, because I know the extent of their kindness. What surprises me, is that I am lucky enough to have so many of these people in my life. I would not be where I am now, as well as I am now, without the people God has put in my life. I am grateful beyond words for my family and friends that have done so much for me. I have my own cheering section! I know that I can do this and it means the world to me that I have people in my life who believe I can do it. These people help me bounce. They are there for the highs and the lows.

Happy 8 Months Carson!

Yesterday, Carson turned eight months old. He was with his daddy, but I thought about him all day. I thought about how shocked I was when I found out I was pregnant with him. I thought about how scary it was when I went to the hosital at 26 weeks because of high blood pressure. I had already fallen in love with this baby and would do anything to protect him and keep him safe. I felt so helpless not knowing if my body would allow me to carry him to term. I thought about the feeling of accomplishment I felt when I made it to 34 weeks with no blood pressure issues. And of course, the memory of Paul walking out passed through my mind a couple of times. I thought about the day Carson was born and wished it could have been a sweeter story. I wish it had been different, but it was still one of the 2 most amazing days of my life. I was given a gorgeous, healthy, baby boy. I remembered the past eight months. The first few months of Carson's life I was not the mother I wish I would have been. I suffered from post pardom depression. I was unable to let myself bond strongly with my son. It was unphatomable that I could love him so completely and so dearly, but I couldn't bring myself to hold him at times. I felt helpless when he cried, and I couldn't stand to hear it. I fed him, changed him, and bathed him. I did what I was supposed to do, but I was in a fog while I did it. I couldn't enjoy him being a newborn. I couldn't look at him and not hurt. I was scared to death. How was I going to give him everything he needed. I wanted him more than anything in the world, but how were we going to get through all this. I felt terrible for him. He didn't ask to come into this world, much less to arrive without a father and an incapable mother. He had no idea what was going on. He was an innocent baby who was thrown into this awful situation. I felt so guilty. I was failing as a mother. I couldn't protect him, and I wasn't what he deserved. At this point, I knew I needed to go to the doctor. I was diagnosed with PPD and learned to get through it. Since then, I have spent every second with my son trying to make it up to him. I am devistated that the entire experience of Carson's birth and newborn stage was tainted by the actions of his father and the mental state of his mother. I made him a promise. I promised to spend the rest of my life striving to be the best mother that I can be. I promised to never leave him and always be there when he needs me. I want him to know that I love him with every fiber of my being. I want him to know how wanted he is and how privaledged I am to have him as my son. He is the happiest baby. He is always smiling. That smile lights up my entire world. He adores his big sister and she feels the same about him. He has the brightest blue eyes that sparkle when he sees me. His laugh is contagious. And his ears.....wow! Dude got some massive ears, but they are adorable. He is perfect. I have made it my life's mission to love him and Reese with all that I have and raise them in a loving, Christian home. Yes, it will be unconventional, and it will be difficult to overcome the influences they will face in the other enviornment they will be exposed to, but I am convinced if I do what I should as a mother they will turn out just fine. Eight months ago, God answered another life long prayer by blessing me with Carson. I am eternally grateful for that. I cherish every minute I spend with him. I don't want to take one second for granted. I look forward to the future, but I am perfectly fine with living in these moments happening today. So happy 8 months to my sweet, perfect, baby boy. Mommy loves you monkey boy!

Busy, Busy, Busy

Somtimes when things are at their craziest, I stop and think how in the world did I get here? I get mad because I know things could be better for all of us if the kids had more than me to depend on. Then in the same moment I think the kids CAN depend on me. They have me and I have them. That is enough to be thankful for and enough to keep me going. Reese may not get her drink as soon as she wants it, and Carson may have to cry while I make his food at night. The important fact remains that they will get what they need, and they will get it from me. When we first get home in the afternoons, both kids need me at the same time. Carson needs to eat. Reese needs a snack and a drink. Reese wants to tell me about her day, and Carson wants me to hold him and play with him. They both need my undivided attention. It is this time everyday that reminds me that he did this. He left us here to fend for ourselves. He broke our home and made things harder for me and my babies. A few months ago, I would cry. I would feel sorry for myself. I would wonder how this could happen. These days, I don't cry. Sometimes, I even laugh. I consider myself lucky. Him not being here, gives me the honor of caring for these children. I get to be the one to provide for them and love them on a daily basis. I am blessed to have this time to be needed, and come through for them. When life happens like a whirlwind it makes me grateful. As far as how I handle the situations, it's kind of a trial and error kind of thing. Now I have juice boxes and snacks that Reese can get herself while I make Carson's food. While I feed him, Reese tells me all about her day and asks the 7,643 questions that she has stored up for me. Once Carson is full and happy we all play in the floor together. It took a little while to get it right, but it runs pretty smoothly now. I've learned to adapt. If something isn't working, we try something else. If I get thrown a curveball, I've figured out how to correct my swing and go with it. Never a dull moment and life just keeps looking up!

Bad Day Again

No matter how many good days I manage to string together, a bad one always sneaks up on me. I think it will be like that for a while. The good news is the good day streaks keep getting longer and longer. These days it takes much more to set me off than it did before. I remember not too long ago a Titans logo on a loaf of bread caused a major meltdown. Now it has to be pretty significant to bring me down. Like this past weekend, I found out he took her to his mom's for family game night. I new it would happen eventually, I just wasn't ready for what it would feel like. She already replaced me with Paul, now she was a part of the family now. She was in my spot at the table. She was playing with my nephew. She was where I was supposed to be. My head totally understands that his family would eventually accept her in as his girlfriend. My heart on the other hand was crushed. I know it's selfish, but she caused me so much pain and cost my children the life they should have had...so how can anyone welcome her with open arms? How can everyone not hate her? Like I said, my head gets it. I know that's not how it should be. I just need to exit stage right, and let her have it. I need to separate myself from the life I had with him and as break as many ties as possible in order to make this easier on myself.

Anger is the emotion that I feel the most and the strongest. In fact, anger doesn't really seem to be the word to describe what I'm talking about. Loathing, fury, enmity, bitterness, rage, contempt, repugnance...those sound a lot more accurate than "anger." I'm mad that they feel no pain, no regret or remorse. I'm infuriated that they get to have their happy little situation over there, while on the other side of town I have his children that I am caring for and supporting on my own. I hate that he gets to go on vacations, buy new things, go on dates, and have no responsibilities. More than anything I hate what he has done to my daughter. From the core of my being, I detest his actions and the effect that it has had on my baby. When he leaves her crying because she doesn't understand why daddy doesn't live here anymore it makes my blood boil. When I have to answer questions and dry her tears because he crushed her world for his own selfish desires it makes me want to punch him in the throat. On the bright side, I am working on the anger issues, and am making great strides at getting along with him in order to make this easier on my children. Hating him is a waste of energy. Hating her is inevitable and eternal. She sent me a message this weekend about something her son said about me being hot and proceeded to tell me she always thought I was gorgeous and still does. SERIOUSLY?!?! Yeah for 2 seconds I was sad because comments like that from her used to make me feel better. Messages like that used to evolve into hour long discussions about nothing in particular. Once that passed I remembered who she really is and what she did. Anything that reminds me of her, makes me want to puke then karate chop someone in the face. Again, I'm working on those little mental outbursts.

Other than these sporadic little episodes, I am doing pretty well. Good days are great and bad days aren't that bad. I think having a bad day here and there is good for me. A) It helps me appreciate the good ones that much more. B) It shows me how far I've come in almost 8 months. Before a bad day, was beyond bad. We are talking fetal position on the floor in the bathroom kind of bad. 48 hours of no sleep bad. Seriously, bad bad days! Now a bad day is pretty minor. Piece of cake compared to the old days!

Lucky Girl

Although, I've been through hell on earth in the past 7 months I am a very lucky girl! I have a whole list of reasons why I consider myself blessed beyond belief!

1. I have God. He loves me unconditionally and will never leave me.
2. I have two amazing children who light up when I walk in the room. I was put on this earth to be a mom and now I am fortunate enough to be one.
3. I was in love and I was loved. I don't regret one second with Paul. I loved him completely. He made me happy. Happier than I thought I could be. He made me feel beautiful, like I was the only woman in the world. We had a wonderful marriage. He was a devoted husband and father until last summer. I was very lucky to have him in my life while I did. I will always be grateful to him for the time we shared and the two gorgeous babies he gave me.
4. I have a home waiting for me.
5. I learned a valuable lesson. I'm not sure if there will ever be someone else, but I know with out a shadow of a doubt no man will ever do this to me again. I'm older and wiser. If there is a next guy, bless his heart, he don't stand a chance. And friends....well I know to choose them more carefully and trust them much less.
6. I have a second chance, a new beginning, and a fresh start. You can't go wrong with those things.
7. NO MORE TITANS JUNK IN MY HOUSE! :)
8. I can sleep on either side of the bed and leave the tv on all night.
9. I'm a sucker for a boy in boots....not Jordans.
10. Baseball is back on the tv.
11. More room on the DVR for my shows.
12. More closet space.
13. I have proven to myself that I am strong. Though all the issues with my mother and her problem I adopted her way of thinking. I was weak. I "couldn't handle" stressful situations. HA! How's this for a stressful situation?!? I am not my mother. I got my daddy's strength, I just never knew it.
14. I'm hard headed as they come. I'm half Jones. Tell me I can't and I'll prove to you I can.
15. I have plenty of family and friends to remind me of these things if I forget! :)

Plan B

When I got married, I got married for life. To me, marriage is forever. It's not just a piece of paper or a trial run. I had planned on spending the rest of my life with Paul and our children. I was going to finish school next May. I would be teaching by the time Reese started school. We would buy a bigger house, have one more baby, and get a SUV. We had vacations planned, movies we wanted to see, and concerts we wanted to go to. Madden weekend was coming up in August. There were years of Cuddle Fests, trips to the zoo, anniversaries, and family portraits to come. Then in one day that plan was blown. All the plans we made were no longer options for me. So how do you come up with a plan B? I started small. I planned the next hour for a while. In time I was able to move up to the next day. These days I can make short term plans, but nothing spectacular. The life I knew was over. Everything was different. Part of me was gone, and I couldn't function. Planning supper made me want to throw up. Making decisions was never my strong point, but now it was impossible. I made lists, with my Sharpies of course. I made lists of priorities, lists of things to do, list of ways I could get him back, lists of how to fix me. It all made more sense in different colored Sharpie ink. So, my plan B started forming. I would continue with school. I had to hurry up and finish so I could find a job that would allow me to support me and the kids. I would attempt to stay in my house and do this myself. I wanted to avoid as much change as I could for Reese's sake...and mine. Sadly, that's as far as I have gotten with my new plan. I'm not sure where we will live six months from now. I have no idea how long I can keep my job. Right now, I know that tomorrow we are having lasagna for supper. I know that Friday Paul will pick the kids up at 5:00 for his weekend. I know that from here on out I will do whatever I have to in order to provide my children with the life that I want them to have. They will always come first. That plan is good enough for me.

Speaking of changing plans. What gives him the right to completely call an audible? His name is not Peyton Manning. How is it fair to change the play after the hand off? He made me so many promises. He made these plans with me, then left. Now he is making plans with her, and I'm left to suffer. It breaks my heart that I have to miss every other weekend with my children because he decided to up and leave. That wasn't my choice, why should I lose time with my kids? Why should I lose my home...our home? Why should I struggle to make ends meet? It's wrong of me, but I want him to suffer. I want him to hurt. He did this. He was wrong, yet he is living it up with a new family. He gets to swoop in every now and then and play with the kids for a bit then bring them back. He doesn't deal with the real stuff. The sickness, the discipline, the nurturing, the financial support...all that is not his responsibility anymore. I am good though. I am determined to be a good mom to these babies. I am determined to make myself a better person. I am determined to make it through this. I am determined to come up with a plan B and enjoy my new life.

A Little Bit Stronger

As the months went by, I always wondered if I would ever stop hurting. I wanted to know exactly when I was going to feel better. Everyone kept saying, "It just takes time." and "It will get better, I promise." I was convinced I was broken forever. I just knew I was going to always want him back. What I didn't realize is that with each day that I made it through, I was getting a little bit stronger. Each breakdown was one step closer to sanity. I had to get through the awful, dark, depressing days to appreciate the happier days ahead. Looking back, I did not react to everything as I should. I would go as far as to say I didn't react to everything in a completely sane way. In my defense, there is no instruction manual on how to deal with your husband leaving you for your bff when you're eight months pregnant, and having a newborn and two year old on your own. I did learn many valuable lessons going through this. Mainly, I learned that I am stronger than I ever thought I could be. Yes, I broke down. Yes, I messed up. Yes, it was hard, but I did it and I am doing it. There are a few things that helped me survive.



So one day about 6 weeks after he left, I was browsing iTunes. I ran across a Sara Evans song so I got it without listening to it. I burned the cd and left the house. In the car, when the song came on I had to pull over. The words to this song were incredible. I listened to it all the time. The words became more and more true. It was like an entrance theme for a wrestler, or locker room music for a football player. I guess the more I heard it the more I believed it and the more I believed it the more it happened. I had other music to aid in my recovery. I made two cd's. One was a "Tonight I Wanna Cry" cd. It had all the sad stuff on it. When I needed to let it out and cry I would torture myslef with "The Last One to Know" and "Unbreak My Heart." The other cd was an "Deuces" cd. This one was much more fun! "Riding Solo" and anything by Eminem made it all better! It's cheesy, but my music really was theraputic for me. Although, me and the radio had it out many, many times due to song selection.

Something else that helped me through the worst times was friends and family (including my inlaws). Listing everyone would be impossible, and I am sure I would forget someone. I was very lucky. I had different types of support. I had people who had been through what I was going through in some way or another. They were able to warn me of the upcoming battles and give me the promise of better days ahead. They knew what I was going through. They didn't just feel sorry for me, they had felt this way before. I had my Christian friends and family who did not let me forget to keep praying and to stay close to God. I had my amazingly strong Daddy who did all he could to make his little girl stop crying. At times, I could see the pain in his eyes. I knew if he could he would take the hurt away. The two people who helped me stay somewhat afloat are Reese Katelyn and Carson Wesley. Those babies pulled me through this. If not for them, who knows where I would be. I love my kids with all my heart and soul. They needed me and I needed them. I didn't have time to get too lonely. I didn't have the ability to stay sad when I had them in my arms. They brightened everyday. They were living proof that I didn't waste six years of my life on nothing. I came out of this marriage with a broken heart and the two most amazing gifts from God. Those gifts were worth every second of pain. Even now, they do something each day to help me get a little bit stronger.

Praying is the only other thing that I knew to do. I would lay in bed for hours talking to God. I would beg him to let Paul come home. I would plead to keep my family together. The more I begged and pleaded, the more I realized I am not asking for the right thing. I am asking God for what I want not what I need. What I needed was what is best for me and my kids. In hindsight, that is obviously not Paul. It took a long, long time to understand that. My love for him couldn't keep him here, it couldn't even keep him faithful to me and his family. Therefore, he does not deserve my love. Praying allowed me to get it all out without interuption or unwanted advice. All my praying brought me understanding. Now, I will never understand how it all happened or why it happened. I just have an understanding of what I need. I can make the most of this. "Sometimes goodbye is a second chance."

The Foggy Months From What I Remember

The next few months are blurry. I remember the pain very well, but most of the events are hazy. I remember bringing Carson home. I had hoped I could be excited and Paul would help make it a happy occasion. It didn't happen that way. I cried a lot. I looked at Carson with pity and pain instead of joy and amazement. These feelings made me feel worse as a mother. I wanted to enjoy every second with him and soak up the experience of being a mommy again. Instead, I felt desperate and in shock. Walking in the house that day, I realized how alone I was about to be. Paul quickly unloaded the stuff from the hospital, set everything up, and picked up my meds. He did everything a new daddy should....except stay. We just brought our newborn son home and he was rushing out the door. I was there with my gut split open with a baby and a two year old, but that didn't phase me. I was there without my husband, my best friend, my other half. I was incomplete. I was broken, and now I was responsible for these tiny beings alone. I didn't sleep for weeks. I couldn't eat. I tried breastfeeding and failed at that miserably.

I remember Ashley, so helpful and supportive. Always wanting to help. She would call and talk to me for hours. She would hold me when I lost it. She would hold Carson when I couldn't bring myself to do it. She convinced me Paul was just stressed and he would be back. She told me she knew how I felt. She lied and lied. And then lied some more.

I remember the night I caught my husband sneaking out of Ashley's house to walk to his hidden truck. I remember the feeling I got when I realized my family and his had been right all along. He was cheating on me with my friend. They had both been lying. He had made this all my fault while he was persuing a relationship with my friend. I remember the tremble in my voice when I asked her how she could do this. I remember the look of guilt in her eyes as she denied he was even there.

I remember finding out he went on vacation with her to Destin. We were just on a beach 3 months earlier planning our next family vacation. We talked about growing old and living close to a beach. We walked on the beach at night holding hands. How could he be on another beach with another woman planning their future so soon? How could he walk away so easily? How can he be so happy and me be so broken? What about his kids? How could he walk away from him the way he did?

I remember finding the messages they sent to eachother. There wasn't much left of my heart at this point, but whatever was there was now destroyed. He loves her. She loves him. When you see another woman telling your husband things like, "I miss you like crazy. I can't wait till you get home today." or "I love you so much baby. Kisses." Its bad enough. But to see your husband, the man you love, the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with telling another woman, "Good morning baby. I hope you have a good day. I miss you." It is an indescribable pain. Nothing was left. I was empty. The pain took over. The numbness I had felt was now smoothering me. I threw up. I remember the physical pain I felt in my chest as I tortured myself by reading these words over and over. I had my proof. I had what I needed, but I didn't want it anymore. He was in love with her. After all we had overcome and all we had built together, he loved her not me.

I remember the lonely nights, the crying spells, the triggers that would cause my meltdowns. I remember the anger that began building and snowballing. I remember the hatred towards her that tried to consume me. I remember the dissappointment I felt, the guilt I felt. I remember wondering how I could have let this happen. What did I do? What could I have done to prevent it? I remember wishing I could go to sleep and not wake up. I didn't want to hurt anymore. I didn't want to hear a song on the radio and break down. I didn't want to watch him leave the house and feel like it was the first time again.

I remember all of this very vividly, but unfortunately most of the good stuff is gone. I have a few memories here and there of Carson as a newborn. I have a few stories to tell about something cute Reese did. Other than that those months were full of pain and haertache. I was cheated out of something I can't get back. I lost too much time while I was under this spell. I remember the day that I convinced myself to be better. To take one step at a time and the first step was my babies. I learned to enjoy them through the pain. I learned to hold them close to me to make me better. I learned that their smiles and blue eyes made me almost whole again. I remember realizing "I got this!" I can do this. I will do this for these babies. I was ready to be me again and to be the mom I promised God I would be if he blessed me with children. I was ready to come out of the fog. I remember wondering how in the world am I supposed to do this?

Enter Carson

The day after Paul left I had a doctor's appointment. He met me there and we went in for my routine ultra sound. I had pregnancy induced high blood pressure throughout the pregnancy so they had to keep a close eye on the baby. I was still in shock from the day before. I had not slept yet and was very nervous about my appointment. The ultra sound tech had a serious look on her face as she did Carson's cord doppler readings. She said don't be alarmed we will just do a couple more. After she finished she walked out quickly and brought a nurse back in with her to check my blood pressure. 162/117. I was horrified. I knew the risks of having a bp that high. I knew by the look on everyone's face it wasn't good. She took us to a room to wait on Dr. Williams. When she came in she told us it was time to take the baby. She said it wasn't safe for me to carry him anymore. I thought the safest place for a baby was inside their mother's belly. I had failed at carrying him and protecting him already and he wasn't even born yet. She said he was not getting the oxygen his brain needed. We then had to rush home and throw a bag together and grab Reese. I was on my way to give birth to my son less than 24 hours after my husband walked out. I was furious. This was his fault. He did this. He put my baby boy in danger. He caused me to have to go through this amazing experience in the shape I was in. I begged him to pretend just for this day that he loved me and we were ok. I wanted our son to come into this world the way we had planned. Once I was at the hospital, I had two panic attacks. I freaked. I didn't want to do this. I begged them to let me leave. Paul couldn't hold my hand or kiss me. He never even made eye contact as we waited for them to take me to the OR. Once I was on the table and had my spinal block, I was scared and mostly alone. Paul was a million miles away. He looked like he was getting a root canal, not a beautiful baby boy. All I could think was about my son and if he was ok. I prayed and prayed that he would be healthy. I wanted so bad for Paul to touch my face and tell me everything was ok. I wanted him to hold my hand because it was hard to breathe. I knew if he would just talk to me and calm me down I could do this. I got NOTHING. My anesthesiologist was the one who supported me, the one who talked me through the csection, the one who held my hand and told me I was doing a good job. Not my husband. They pulled my precious baby boy out and gave him to Paul. He brought him around for me to see. He was perfect. His cheeks were puffy, his eyes were open, and he was breathing perfectly. He was healthy. Once again, I fell in an indescribable love with this tiny human. I glanced up at Paul. His eyes were empty. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. I had never seen that look before. It wasn't the proud, adoring look he had when he saw Reese. My heart broke all over again. Who was this person? Where was my husband? Where was the man I loved more than anything? How did we get here?
The days in the hospital were miserable. I didn't sleep. I woke Paul up crying and begging him not to do this. Begging him to not tear apart our family that we always wanted. I begged him not to walk out on us. I got nothing. I was ready to get out of there. I needed to get my son home and be with my baby girl.

D-Day

It was Sunday, July 18. It was so hot and muggy. I was so over being pregnant. Once we got home from church I couldn't take it anymore. Paul had been so distant and weird for the past week. I had begged him to tell me what was going on. He kept saying it was the fact that he lost his job again. I knew it was more, and deep down I knew it was bad. I had pulled over on the side of the road Friday night bawling. I wanted him to tell me what was wrong. I wanted him to talk to me. I wanted my husband to tell me everything was going to be ok. I wanted to be wrong.
I did some digging when I got home. Something wasn't right. Something about the way he had been with Ashley on Wednesday night. He picked her up and twirled her around the room. I threw up in my mouth. Something about the way he answered the phone the Friday before when I was in Arkabutla for a baby shower for our unborn son. I was expecting him to be with his brothers for guys' night or with Dusty his bff hanging out. "I'm at Ashley's watching a movie." These words sent chills up my spine, but I didn't react to them. I told him to tell her I said hi and that I loved him and would see him tomorrow. There was something about the numerous times that he had to leave abruptly to take her milk or a movie. There was something about the day she needed him to come babysit for her....and she never left the house. There was definitely something but I had no reason to not trust my husband and my dear friend. So I checked the phone records. He had talked to her all night the night before and the night before that and the day before that. Tons of texts back and forth between the two. Phone calls that were interupted by me where continued the second I hung up. Hours of conversation in the past week. He had avoided me for this same length of time. I knew. I knew then but wouldn't accept it.
I asked him about all the calls and texts. His words...."I haven't cheated on you with Ashley or anyone else for that matter, but I'm not happy and I haven't been in a long time." Those words will never disappear from my memory. The feeling that I felt...I can still feel it if I let myself. I immediately started thinking back to moments that proved he had to be wrong. Our anniversary 3 months earlier. On the beach in Alabama, only two months earlier. The date we went on 3 weeks earlier. How could he say he's been unhappy for a year and I had no idea??? We talked a few minutes the end result was he was going to stay at his moms and hopefully he would miss me and come home. THAT was his plan??!??! THAT was how we were going to do this?!?! So I told him to leave before my baby girl woke up. I did not want her to see me crying and him walking out. He was knelt down at the end of the bed and I was sitting at the head of the bed near the door. He stood up, put his head down, got to the door and mumbled, "I'm sorry." and walked out of our home and shut the door. He was gone. I broke. I laid there crying and thinking to myself, "So this is what this feels like?"