I Am a Bad Mom, Chapter 4: Wedded Bliss

February 9, 2018

If you haven't read chapters 1-3 STOP and start here.  Ok, you are a faithful reader of my first series thank you and please continue.  Full disclosure: I didn't give Chapter 3 the love I have given chapters 1 and 2, why? Well I work in higher ed and the beginning of the spring semester hit me like a ton of bricks.  I didn't plan to be wiped out after work and so I crammed a post on Thursday night. Sorry. Lesson learned.  I am learning a bit about discipline and learning to factor this series into my schedule as I would any deadline.  While I have your attention I would like to thank my husband for calling me out on it and pushing me forward. Love you babe.  Ok, so on with chapter 4 (cause the hubby I have is not the one I marry in this post, keep up).

To recap, my abusive, cheating, lying, father of my child, boyfriend asked me to marry him and I said yes.  I have spent very little time trying to understand why I would ever think, knowing what I knew about him, he would make a good husband.  Ladies, a word to the wise, children and marriage don't make an abusive man better, or a cheater better or a liar better.  It just doesn't and if you think it does you are kidding yourself.  This was an especially confusing time in my life.  I thought that I had limited options and I thought I was doing what was best for my son, for our future so I agreed to marry him.  I can't say I understand why my boyfriend proposed.  It baffles my mind when I think about it.   My parents refused to participate in all wedding preparations and threatened to not attend as a sign of protest.  This was hard for me, but still, I carried on.  Now if I have any parents reading this post I would like to share some insight here.  When you take a hard stand against something your adult child has decided to do, there are only two ways that can end.  You will isolate her and create an "us against the world" dynamic that will have her look past ALL signs that this is wrong and she will do it anyway. Or two, you might guilt her into not doing it but you might be robbing her of an important life changing experience that will grow and teach her.  Remember our children's lives are not our an extension of our own.  They don't "owe" us anything, having them was our choice, not theirs. Advise, but more than that love them unconditionally even when it goes against everything you know that is right. Let them be.

I was the biggest I had been in my life and my general unhappiness made dress shopping especially difficult.  My mother refused to go dress shopping with me.  This was especially hard for me.  I needed her support more than I could have ever expressed.  I felt alone in what was suppose to be a happy and joyous time.  I dragged my high school bestie with me to a local David's Bridal to shop for a dress in my very small price range.  I burst into tears many times during my appointment, the poor saleswoman.  I was emotional for so many reasons.  After trying on two or three dresses I settled for a dress and called it a day.  My fianće was not interested in wedding plans.  Picking the date, the venue, the menu items, the church, the guest list, the tiny little suit for our almost 1 year old son; all the planning that goes into a wedding was left to me.  Sure, he would cart me around from place to place but he would stay in the car or drop me off, he had no interest in any of it.  The day I decided on a venue I asked my fianće to come see the place and help me with the deposit.  For most of the meeting, he was off on a phone call.  I had my son in my arms and my fianće outside.  The days leading up to the "big day" were uneventful.  There was no bridal shower, no bachelorette party, nothing to celebrate this union.  I spent most of my time staying over his place with the baby.  As you can imagine home life with my parents was intense.  They loved their grandson so much and they worried for both of us.  They felt powerless, so they said nothing.  When I was there I would stay to myself in my room.  It was a house divided.  They asked no questions about the wedding, about my fianće, not a word.  They wanted no part of any of it.

The wedding was a week away.  I gave notice to my weekend job supervisor that I would be out.  I had a coworker who was probably about my age now tell me something that haunts me til this day.  She said, don't do this.  You are only 20 years old, you don't even know who you are.  In a year you won't even recognize yourself, in 5 years in 10 years, you will be a completely different person.  I smiled and told her thanks but I know what I am doing.  Another lie I told to myself added to the pile of lies that would soon bury me alive.  The day before the wedding I suffered what I realize now to be a mild anxiety attack while running last minute errands.  I was driving in a neighborhood I grew up in and knew like the back of my hand but I was lost.  I couldn't recognize a street name, a landmark nothing.  I was overwhelmed with anxiety, my heart was beating out of my chest and I began to sweat.  I pulled my car over and tried to collect myself and cried.

Wedding day.  I got ready for my big day at home.  My sister supported me from afar but she was deeply unhappy with my decision to marry.  She stood by my side and played my maid of honor while I stood across from my fianće and exchanged vows.  Long, worried faces made up the 20 people in church attendance. My parents reluctantly attended the ceremony.   My fianće was nervous and dripping in sweat.  Our son looked on from my father's lap as we became husband and wife.

Our reception was small, we had about 60 guests.  I don't remember many details of the event.  It honestly is a blur. I can't even fully bring my husband's face into focus in my memory.  I think we had a handful of pictures from the event.  It remains the strangest memory to date.  My new husband was distant and unaffectionate.  He also seemed to be confused about what we had just done.  We focused a lot of our attention on our one year old who was just the cutest thing in his little white tux.

I don't want to blatantly make anything up so full disclosure I have no memory of our wedding night. I don't know where we spent it our if we even spent it together.  Seriously, not a clue. We had a lot ahead of us.  The first thing was living arrangements.  Married couples should live together.  During our separation, he had allowed his mother to take over our old apartment and moved in with a roommate to another apartment that was on the other side of the world as far as I was concerned.  It was not close to any public transportation so moving in meant I would be stranded if he disappeared as he was known to do for a night or two.  It was a typical bachelor pad with mattresses on the floor and sheets doubling as curtains to cover the windows.  I hated that place.  I didn't think a new family should have a roommate and that was to be the first of many battles in our epically short marriage.


Check back in next Friday for the continuation of my series. Subscribe to the blog in order to get notifications when a new post is up.  Hey, do you like this story? Share it! Comment Below! Share the goodness with your network! It would mean the world. 


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