The Meeting

I went to a mom’s group meeting last night.  Usually I greatly enjoy these meetings.  I get to hang out with a bunch of like-minded moms and talk about all things kids, babies, and mothering.

Last night, we were sitting around having a great conversation when the topic of sex came up.  One woman said that she just wasn’t going to enjoy herself if he baby was crying or if her pre-schooler was knocking on her door.  She said if either of those happen, she and her husband stop and tend to the needs of the children.  They remind themselves that it won’t always be like this because kids are so small for so short a time.

I had to get up and leave the room.  Actually, I had to leave the building.  I tried to stand in another room but I could still hear the conversation so I went outside.  I stood out there and prayed that if I ever get married again, that he would be the man who respects our children and loves all of us enough to put his pleasure aside to tend to our children.  I prayed that he’d be as bothered by a crying child as I am.  I prayed again for God to lead that man to me.

You see, I had to continue having sex with Bubba even if one of the kids needed me.  When I finally couldn’t take the crying anymore, when I was jarred out of The Happy Place, I had to tell Bubba to stop and just deal with the consequences.  There were times when Shane was a baby that I would get dressed, run into Shane’s room, nurse him back to sleep for 10 minutes, run back in the bedroom, strip, start having sex with Bubba, hear Shane cry 5 minutes later, get dressed, run into Shane’s room, nurse him back to sleep for 10 minutes, run back in the bedroom, strip, etc…. Over and over and over and over.

Bubba would never just say, “Hope, go lay down with Shane and go to sleep.  He needs you right now.”  Nope.  He would get angry that I was getting progressively more and more tired.  I was dozing off in those 10 minutes with Shane because I just couldn’t stay awake.  I would be near tears but it never mattered to Bubba.  If I did fall asleep with Shane, he would come in and wake me up, grab my hand, and “help” me out of bed so that we could finish.

Bubba did not see Shane as our baby.  Bubba saw Shane as competition.  Bubba viewed all of our children as competition.  Instead of coming alongside me and helping with our children, he dumped all of the responsibility on me to take care of them then became angry when I was so tired from doing exactly that so that I didn’t have the time or energy to devote to him.  Since that was unacceptable, I had to dig deep for any reserves of strength I had to meet Bubba’s significant needs.

I hated that I had to leave the group last night to deal with this garbage.  I was listening to normal women discuss their normal husbands and it just highlighted exactly how abnormal my life had been.  I was ripped off in so many ways.  My children were ripped off in so many ways.  Will going out in public and trying to be “normal” ever not end up with me being blind-sided by something like this?

It does seem like it happens less and less.  I think that is why it is so hard on me when it does happen.  I’m not as used to it anymore.  I sat there and tried to remain part of the meeting, to put on a happy face, and pretend like it wasn’t bothering me.  I could feel the tears coming and I know I was struggling with them.  That is something that wouldn’t have happened two years ago.  I would’ve fed all that to Fluffy and sat there, participating like that was my life too.  Fluffy is no longer an option so I feel the feelings now.

I fought tears the entire ride home after the group.  I wanted to be safely in my bed before I let the tears flow.  I walked in the door and immediately Serenity said, “Why are you sad?  What’s wrong?”  I told her I’d be fine.  She said, “You aren’t fine now.  What happened?  Did Steve do something to make you sad?  Do I have to hunt him down and hurt him?”  I told her that no, it wasn’t Steve.  She asked who’d upset me.  I told her to take three guesses and she said, “It was Bubba.”  It wasn’t a question.  It was a statement.  She knew.  She asked what he’d done.  I told her that I was just processing old shit again.  She just gave me a big hug.

I hate that I can’t hide these feelings from my kids.  Yet there is another part of me that I’d glad I can’t hide it anymore.  Serenity is getting to see that I actually DO have feelings and that I deal with them.  I told her I was processing and working through them.  She knows I’m fighting to be healthy and to heal from what her father did to me.  She gets to see me being weak and then being strong.  She is learning that all feelings are ok.  She is learning that we can laugh, cry, scream, get angry, express our feelings (without hurting anyone else, of course).

Again, I’m breaking the cycle.  And that is a very good thing.


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