Co-Parenting: The Beautiful Struggle

It's been almost 8 weeks since my daughter's father seemed to just "wake up". Slowly, but surely. He has made more effort. He has talked, opened up, and shown up. 

I've been open, talked, listened, supported, and acted with kindness. We have had dinner at my house, we've had a family day out for pictures with santa. We've been able to be at a family (his side) function without awkwardness. He has been able to watch Laurel while I went out for a break with friends. He has even had her a full day with his family.  We've been able to share about life and struggles. We talk, in a healthy way. We discuss decisions regarding Laurel. We co-parent. 

Its been great. Empowering and inspiring. I share and document things on my Facebook and so many people have reached out and commented about the good we are doing for our daughter. I agree completely. I just don't want people to feel like we need a pat on the back. I want people to know that co-parenting can work. It can be healthy, and sometimes it's the best situation for the child. Co-parenting in a positive way isn't shared or talked about a lot. Sharing, dropping off, picking up, and having tension during drop off times is what's talked about. That's the normal. 

There will be days in the years to come where Laurel will go to her dads, and it will just be them, and hopefully a wonderful (healthy & positive) step-mother. I won't be there to make the memories with them. She will come home and tell me about their day, and she will get excited and they will share moments that I won't be in. That's hard to wrap my head around. But right now, for as long as possible, and in the future-for the bigger things, her dad and I will do these things together. We will be there letting her know she has our full support and love. 

There has been so much beauty. So many memories, laughs, and seeing Laurel happy with the two of us. However, there are ugly moments, tough moments. Moments that we will have to address in the future and feelings are going to get hurt, and toes will be stepped on. As much as I know the reality in this, I'm praying that we can be in these happy moments for as long and as often as possible. And when the ugliness of co-parenting appears, we are capable of only focusing on the beauty and putting "us" aside and focusing on Laurel.

You see, Laurel's dad and I have known each other for 10 years, we dated for almost 9. We had a life together, and we knew everything about one another. We knew when the other would crack a joke in public, we knew what the other would be thinking. We were in sync. We were like the same person in certain aspects. So, now, almost a year a part and most of that year not on good terms...we are having to get to know one another, again. Or, he has to get to know me. I'm nothing like I was when he left. I'm a completely different person, and I think I surprise him at certain times because he isn't anticipating what I'm doing or what comes out of my mouth. That makes me so proud. That tells me I've grown. That no matter what hurt came into my life, I didn't let it break me. I made it make me better, stronger, wiser, and softer. 

People are often taken back when I tell them he talks to me about his love life, or his problems. I give him advice, I listen. In some ways, I'm still his person; even though he isn't mine. Why do I do that? One: It doesn't bother me. It doesn't hurt me. I had to come face to face with the fact that I wasn't happy and was just pretending to be. Two: I do it for Laurel. He needs someone and someone that's a healthy source, and that's me. I have healthy boundaries and they are in place, and I know when I need to pull back or when to change the subject. He can tell me about his life, but beyond Laurel; he doesn't get to see into my life. It's private because I get to choose to let him in or if I'll let him in. Moms or dads, if you're co-parenting, that's acceptable. That's okay for you to keep things private when it comes to YOU.

I've created a life outside of him. I have a life outside of co-parenting. But we co-parent really well. I give God all the glory and praise when it comes to this. He has answered my prayers and has seen my deepest desires as a mother. I just want my daughter to have the healthiest situation possible. I'm grateful God has worked on me to not be angry or bitter and to forgive, because I wouldn't be able to co-parent if I had all of those emotions toward him. 

From our family to yours, Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!!!!

When Anger Creeps In

There is a grieving process a person goes through when they've been betrayed. A series of emotions take over and finding the healthiest way for you to adjust and move on is a struggle. 

I thank God for His plan in my life and giving me Laurel and having this happen just days before I met my daughter. Had I not been pregnant, I'm not sure if I would be dealing with this in a healthy way. I'm sure I would try but I might end up just as lost as my ex.

I had sadness for a while. Disbelief, numbness, hope, and then just recently anger has reared it's head. Sometimes I don't even have to talk to my ex to become enraged. I can be sitting, holding my daughter and the thought of walking away from her or simply throwing a pretty decent life away makes me want to scream. How does someone do that?

Then I go back and forth between thoughts about how I must have been such a horrible partner, how I didn't try hard enough, or how everything I thought was real was a complete sham. 

Then, I follow up with these thoughts: I gave and loved with everything I had for years, with nothing in return. I invested emotionally, physically, financially, and mentally and was completely drained. My existence and purpose was to make his life easier, I catered to his needs like a wounded dog wanting my master's approval. Setting love aside, a true friendship of 9 years would be worth more than months of cheating and walking away without any explanation. My friendship that I invested was worth closure. 

To those of you going through similar situations, there are so many questions and scenarios that you go over and over in your head. Sometimes you feel like you're drowning in uncertainty about every moment of your past relationship. I found that if you make positive, affirming statements that you know are true about yourself or the past relationship, you can repeat those, revisit them mentally and focus on those instead of letting the unknown eat at you. Those are truth. Some of the questions and thoughts you stay focused on will never go away and the answers will never surface. Here are my statements I revisit. Statements of truth.

1. I've never been happier. 

2. Laurel and I deserve more. We deserve a man of God.

3. The only way he (my ex) will find himself is through Christ.

4. God has prepared my heart and mind for this season in my life. He is also continuing to prepare my heart for something greater. This is all making me a woman of faith.

I have to repeat these to myself because sometimes the anger creeps in and I want to say hurtful things, sit and be angry, or simply shut off. I don't feel the need to get revenge. I've forgiven him (you'll read about that more later), but it doesn't mean that the grieving process goes away with forgiveness. It still appears at some of the most inconvenient times, but it tests my faith, prayer, and grace. 

No Longer Mine

It was midnight, on I-90, heading back to Montana from a weekend in Washington celebrating my nephew's birthday. Laurel, my sister Christy, and Noah were all sleeping in the car. I was so jealous, what I would have given to have a short nap. I had the windows down and radio turned up.

The opening started, the gentle tones coming out of the speakers. Usually my hand moves quickly to a different saved radio channel when I hear the song come on. My throat closes a little, my stomach flips upside down and I move quickly to hear what's on the next saved channel. It's usually country, something twangy and spunky. It helps the mood pass quicker; the "lets hate on cheating men" anthems save my heartache.

I waited a little longer, the first couple of lines were passing through the air. Oh that Sam Smith, can he sing or what? My stomach didn't drop, my heart kept beating, and I didn't want to throw up because I was physically dealing with so many emotions. My memory didn't trigger to that night where I sat sobbing for hours, wondering what I would do because my whole life, everything I knew was gone.

I gripped the steering wheel and sang. I sang with conviction, off tune I'm sure, but with the experience of heart break. I felt free. I sang along and smiled, partially from trying to reach those high notes that only Sam Smith and Baby Jesus could reach, I'm sure. I also smiled because I wasn't restricted, I wasn't controlled by those emotions that came along with the song.

When silence came over the car, after the song ended. I wondered if I would cry. If I would have one of those moments where I realize what I've actually experienced the past 6 months. Would it hit me all at once again? Nothing. The next song came on the radio.

I kept smiling. Sleep deprived, hungry, and slightly sun burnt...I smiled.

Those lyrics used to be me. Used to be my life. Used to explain my heart. But, they were no longer mine. The emotions that came with the song, the memories, the constant struggle to avoid the song...no longer mine.

What was mine? Freedom, empathy for the next person who would avoid the song, happiness, closure, and love.

Moments like these teach me so much. I'm reminded that with every single day, I find a part of me. I find a piece of happiness I didn't have the day before. I'm reminded of my worth. I'm constantly empowered by my decision to take what happened and move on. No looking back, that is no longer my life.

Sam Smith: I'm Not the Only One https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nCkpzqqog4k

What A Year

A year ago today, I found out I was pregnant. I thought I had the flu. I had been away in Washington throwing my sister's baby shower and came home, really sick. I went into the university clinic to see if I needed medication and to get a note for work. As I filled out the paperwork, I counted back the days of my last period. I always hated counting back or trying to remember; I had PCOS, I was never really normal. The last 4 months or so seemed to show a consistent pattern so I felt confident when I realized I should have had my period the entire time I was in Washington and even before I left. Was I too busy and too worried about throwing the best shower for my sister that I wasn't in tune with my body? I chalked the late period up to stress and poor eating choices that week.

Then, this sudden drop in my stomach happened...that gut feeling people warn you about. I decided to leave the clinic and test on my own, because I worked on campus and people knew me at the clinic. I didn't want anyone to start talking, I especially didn't want the judgmental eyes. I ran to the nearest grocery store, bought the cheapest test I could find.

I went back to work and told myself I would take it later, just push through the upset stomach. I had to go to the bathroom so I took one of the two out of the box and decided to just do it. Peeing on a pregnancy test should be required to become an astronaut or engineer. A big fat positive, two lines, bright and within 8 seconds. I stood in that bathroom stall, test in hand, shaking.

A week earlier, I had broken up with my boyfriend. After 8 years, I ended things. I reached a point and I couldn't continue to give and give with nothing in return. I missed him. He was my best friend and all I knew for 8 years. I had thoughts of regret for the decision I made. I knew I would have to tell him. I would have to explain and hope he didn't think I was trying to trap him. I felt trapped. I decided to wait and to tell him in a day or two when I had my head wrapped around the shock.

I called my best friend, Chelsea. I remember the words escaping with tears that followed. Her up beat "Hey, whats up?" slowly faded and she kept saying "Oh Chelsea...it's okay. It's going to be okay." I could hear her heart ache for me. I just cried, I kept repeating "I broke up with him. What do I do?" I knew what I was going to do. After the tears finally slowed, Chelsea broke the silence with "Is it okay to say that I'm so excited!!!" She gave me hope in that moment. In those seconds where the silence filled my soul and my heart searched for answers, she gave me hope. I smiled, and a little excitement grew within me.

My daughter's father found out just a day or two after I did. Oddly enough, he guessed what I needed to talk to him about. During my pregnancy, he came back around, we played house. But again, I ended up being the only one who tried. I was the only one who would work and sacrifice my own happiness for a family for my daughter. I should have walked away when I realized how much I was giving and how unhappy I was. I made excuse after excuse "Dad's don't become fathers until they see their child." I was cheated on during the majority of my pregnancy and it became something that he stopped feeling the need to hide.He walked away just weeks before I gave birth and I thought  my entire world was falling a part and I was going through the deepest kind of heartache.

Three and a half months later, I can say it wasn't the deepest heartache and he wasn't my entire world. I discovered that I'm stronger than I ever thought. People often say "Your kids will give you strength". This is so true, but I'm proud to say I found my strength and worth before my daughter was born. I fought for my joy, peace, and strength before she came. Just days before she entered this world, I became more of who I was before. My sadness became acceptance. My anger became determination. My self doubt became positive affirmations. My broken self esteem was healed by the words God uses to describe me as His child.

In those days leading to her arrival, I prayed for the first time in a long time, for my daughter and for her father. I would rub my stomach each night, calming her active kicking, and pray for them until I fell asleep. That's when I realized that when you go to God with a heart of prayer and a heart of forgiveness, the person your praying for isn't the only one who receives those anointed words. You do.

A year ago today, one of the hardest journeys began. It's a journey I will continue to walk until my last day on earth. It's dasy like today or even just a couple days ago (Father's Day) where some old feelings creep into my head. Most couples have such a happy memory finding out they are pregnant. Most couples celebrate it on the one year anniversary. But it's just me. It's me and Laurel. So instead of feeling sadness that I'm missing out on something; I will celebrate it. Because it was the day I became a mother. It was the day that I began to put someone else's needs in front of mine. It was the day I fell in love. It was the day my entire world formed. The day that created what can be my deepest heart break. If I were to lose the privilege of being Laurel's mother and seeing her grow every single day, that would be my entire world crashing down and the deepest heart break.

A good friend just asked "Overall, are you happy you got pregnant?"

I smiled. My heart skipped a beat and I replied, "Yes, I would go through the heartbreak and sadness a thousand times to have Laurel."

My daughter was wanted, she was loved from this day a year ago. Today, I celebrate my body and God's presence in my life to make every choice I've made.