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?"