One Year Anniversary

Today it has been a year. One year ago today Flaco announced he was done. Our marriage was over. He moved out the following Saturday and this began the heartbreaking saga of me losing the baby and enduring this dual loss and all the fall-out for the rest of the year. I’m thankful that I am in a much better emotional state today than I was a year ago. Unfortunately, I remember this day in a very visceral way.

I had the day off from work because Flaco and I were supposed to journey to Hershey to see if we would be accepted into an infertility study on PCOS. Instead, I had spent the night at my parents place and spent the day pacing and feeling miserable in my own skin. I just didn’t know what to do with myself, my anxiety was palpable and surely rubbing off on the baby, despite my efforts not to affect him. I tried to play with him, but I could not concentrate, I tried to force myself to relax but the waves of emotional terror, regret, disappointment, sadness, and anger flooded every fiber of my being. When Flaco came home later in the afternoon, that is when he made his pronouncement of our demise. On the day of love my heart was cruelly shattered, callously crushed and discarded like invaluable garbage. But, for the sake of the baby, my son, I held it together. I marched on each day at a time. Until they took him, simply because I was no longer a “we.” “They” wanted him to be in a two parent household, and as my family worker said “Doesn’t he deserve that?” Perhaps. But, he was doing really good with me, learning new words by the dozens, decreasing the intensity and duration of his mighty temper tantrums, and just generally being an active and happy little boy. And yet, he was once again ripped from what he was accustomed to and placed somewhere else. In my heart, I believe his new parents are as loving and kind as could be and that he is happy. For the sake of my sanity I cannot imagine it any other way.

I’m grateful that I have endured the worse year of my life and that the malice of this world did not crush me beyond repair. I knew I was a strong person, but I have never had a cause to prove it before last year. Now, I know that I know that I know I am a strong person; my strength is gathered through my faith, through the goodness of God, and through the wonderful, caring people around me. Since I began taking in foster children again, I haven’t really felt as lonely. But, when Hurricane Sandy hit and I was lying in my bed listening to the forceful gusts of wind rip through my community and tear at my house, I felt a profound feeling of loneliness. I wished to be cuddled in Flaco’s arms, sharing his warmth and knowing we would be ok together. Cuddling with the cats and dog for warmth was a poor substitute and only compounded my feelings of solitude. Even when I was living in a foreign country, an outcast because of difference in language and culture, I didn’t feel as alone as I did that night. I spent the next night on a friend’s couch, only partially due to not having electricity. Today, I am struggling to not feel bitter. Seeing the exchange of flowers at work, hearing about last-minute Valentine’s Day gifts on the radio and news, and knowing I am alone makes me wish for things to be different. I’ve dabbled in dating but seem to find mostly needy “boys” or men looking for only one “thing.” It makes my stomach churn. And truth be told, Flaco has never really left. He still shows up at least once a week or he texts me or calls me. Generally, I feel like I am in a better place emotionally and don’t feel the need to rush into a relationship, just to have a relationship. But, on days like today, I wish I could be someone’s something – girlfriend, fiancé, wife….. So, I am a little bitter being alone and I’m very bah-humbug when it comes to silly little cupids shooting arrows of love. Prior to being married, I was something of a romantic, now I think I’m a little jaded. So, take your Valentine’s Day and shove it Hallmark. I took the kiddos to the doctor’s today to celebrate business as usual.