Hunter's coming home for 24-hours! I am excited and terrified!
For the first time in 2+ months I will have all my boys in our home. Sleeping under one roof, sharing meals, games and laughter. Bliss!
Because Hunter's birthday is next Tuesday -- Ground Hog Day -- we will celebrate this weekend.
I cannot believe he will be seven years old. He's lived a million years in seven. No child should have to deal with so many inexplicable emotions at this age. No child his age should have to NEED to be in a psychiatric hospital. Or take drugs to keep his emotions on a (somewhat) even keel.
He has lost, so far, all his baby teeth (save one) while hospitalized. How sad is that this right of passage was shared over a telephone in a breathless rush of excitement that a tooth fairy could not take part.
The day of his birth. The pregnancy was a held breath. Fear and uncertainty and no emotional support I held inside. I focused on staying pregnant and, as each week passed, I gave a tiny sigh of relief. Tiny, almost silent sigh with a big thanks to God for keeping us safe.
The horror of pre-term labor at 22 weeks and 13 days in the hospital -- alone and lonely -- felt like forever. Leaving the hospital while still pregnant was the best because I expected the worst. Hunter was still tucked safely in my body but the knowledge of not making it to 40 weeks gnawed at my heart. I could not bury another child -- losing Alexander almost did me in. I couldn't change or stop of the process of Alexander's birth and the feeling of total and utter helplessness was more than I could bear.
The night before Hunter's birth we were at a friends apartment celebrating a birthday. Contractions had started earlier that day and steadily built. The joke at the party was that I would have the baby there. I called my OB, gave him the status of the day and he suggested I stop at the hospital to check on the physical progress. The staff tucked me into a temporary bed, brought in a convertible bed/chair, pillow and blanket for DH. He slept while I breathed through contractions, moving from position to position trying to alleviate the glorious pain ripping through my body. We had made it!
It was after 3 AM and the contractions were strong, close together and I knew we were well underway. At 5 AM the nurse checked the physical changes and they moved me to a labor/delivery room. DH called his mom and dad, but their hatred of me kept them away from the hospital until well after Hunter's birth. Their coolness and quick in and out cemented the fact that DH and I would not stay together.
Hunter was born early afternoon and was positively beautiful. I was over the moon that the pregnancy was successful and Hunter was healthy and screaming.
Then I was alone. Mom, Sister, Brother-In-Law and friends visited. DH, mother/father-in-law were no where to be found. I expected that so it was no surprise. Mother/father-in-law and I were past civility and I was on my way out of the family. The hold they have on DH -- and still do -- the way they manipulate him, feed him lies -- and he believes them! -- was unreal.
(Six months after Hunter's birth) Never in my wildest dreams did I expect the people who treated me like a daughter could cut me out in such a brutal way. DH stood back and let them push me out of their lives because they like DH's new girlfriend. We were still married and they encouraged -- even facilitated -- their relationship. I was stunned.
I fought for Hunter's birth on my own. I fought for a stable, loving environment - only to have DH cheat on me with a close neighbor. I knew the first time I met her, and DH was in the same room -- that she had slept with him.
I fought for my marriage, even though he was lying, deceiving and sneaking around behind my back. I held on longer than I should have because I blindly believed he was "the one". I could not have been more wrong. The realization -- the awakening -- came as a complete shock that shook me to the floor. The light bulb did indeed light up and I knew we -- I -- had reached the end. I faced the fact that DH would never contribute to Hunter's life, and he proved me right. I also knew DH would not be bothered with raising a child -- taking responsibility for the child he said if I didn't have, he would divorce me. I can now laugh at the irony of that.
DH can talk the talk, charm the fur from an Eskimo and tell you what he thinks you want to hear -- to get what HE needed. It was always about him and how he would benefit from it. I met him at a very weak part of my life and truly believed everything he said without question. His family accepted me with open arms and mother-in-law and I were inseparable. It took a while for me to figure out just how much control they had over DH. They were the puppeteers and DH was their puppet. Their words were gospel to him and they constantly interfered in our marriage because DH ran to them every time we disagreed -- even over the silliest of things. They couldn't see both sides of the story and thought DH was doing everything right and I was the wrong one.
Their lies and deception still hurt, but I've moved past that. They are so insignificant to me and I rarely give them a second thought. Their betrayal still hurts and they are not active participants in Hunter's life -- which is of no surprise. Hunter may never know these people.
The first time I held Hunter he smiled and it was then I knew Alexander was there with us. For months afterward, every time Hunter smiled, I would softly tell him an angel was whispering in his ear and the angel was his older brother, Alexander. These words always caused a bigger smile.
Bringing Hunter home -- Mother-in-law picked us up at the hospital and drove us home. DH was no where to be found. Hunter and I tried to settle in, to become better acquainted and find a common rhythm. We never did. Hunter didn't want to be held or put down or put in his bouncy chair. He fussed and cried for hours at a time. I was told to stop breastfeeding because there "may" be an enzyme in my milk that he may not be able to digest. He was two weeks old. We were given a new micro processed formula but there was very little change. We gave him anti-gas medication (per the pediatrician) to relieve the gas in his stomach -- but it didn't work. He spit up -- no, he THREW-UP -- at every feeding. I was devastated because I was not able to console him and he fought being held. The only calm I was able to bring him was by standing in his dark bedroom at bedtime rocking him and singing songs in his ear.