A Brief History of Us

My daughter, Avery, turned three a month ago.
Soon after she was born, in May of 2005, her father left me. Not her, just me. (Although, truth be told, he wasn't around much her during first four months.) The first two years of her life were pretty difficult ones for me, but I made it through, and I keep saying I am going to document everything, from my perspective, so that hopefully, some day, she will have some understanding of what went down. This seems like as good a way as any to achieve that end.

The short history of me and my ex-husband is this: we met in 2000, and it was a whirlwind romance. We were instantly inseparable, and I thought that finally I had found the partner I had been searching for. My family thought he was a prince, and everyone thought we were pretty perfect together (I think - do people really tell you the truth about these things???) Moreover, I thought he loved me like I had never felt loved before. He always said to me “you’re the best,” and I believed that he really thought that (and I think that, briefly, he did). We were engaged within nine months, and married nine months after that.

I think we had a “regular” marriage. The honeymoon definitely ended when the honeymoon ended, but we seemed to be good together. We fought like normal couples - maybe more than some, definitely less than many. But I have (had, with him, rather) a temper, and when we fought, I yelled. Because of his (crazy) family history, yelling was unacceptable to him. That’s not saying he didn’t yell at me – he did. He just didn’t want to be yelled AT. Most of our fights were about his “absence” from the house. What I thought was excessive absence. Yes, he traveled for work, which was unavoidable, but when he was not traveling, he was either playing golf (followed by drinks with the guys), or at the same club playing cards (including drinks with the guys) until all hours. I felt very lonely in my marriage, and especially so during my pregnancy. Certainly none of these enormous life experiences was living up to my prior vision of it!

As it turns out, there was another reason he was at the club - his soon-to-be bride, Bonnie. While we were married and during my pregnancy, it turns out he was sleeping with a (very young!) waitress at the club (yeah, her name is really Bonnie - ugh). She's not a waitress any more, and they have been living together for most of the past three years. Did I know about her?, people have asked me. Did I know what was going on? The answer is Yes. And No. I sort of did – there were signs – but who wants to think that of her husband??? What kind of man DOES that? And when I broached the subject with him, he told me I was crazy, or ridiculous, or hormonal (nice thing to say to your pregnant wife, huh?!).

So our daughter was born. My pregnancy had been fine, but I had some difficulties during the final week of my pregnancy, which necessitated several trips to the hospital, and ultimately an emergency C-section. In light of what I now know was going on with him, and only in retrospect, I realize that he was already mentally checked out of our marriage by then. My medical “problems” (trying to safely bring OUR child into the world!) were frustrating and annoying to him. If it would have been an option, he would have been on the golf course instead of holding my hand in the O.R. (Yes, I'm aware there are many men who feel this way, even in “good” marriages, but I can't understand that).

Let me interject here that at the moment of her birth, Avery was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on, and I was instantly and deeply in love! Her dad and I did share a very lovely and tender half hour alone with her in the recovery room, during which time we chose her name. We had decided on Eliza, after her great-great-grandmother, but when we looked at her we both remarked that she didn’t look one bit like an Eliza! So after some discussion (also involving the nurses), we decided on Avery Page. She was (and still is!) the most gorgeous creature I had ever seen, and even the doctors and nurses all commented on what a beautiful baby she was! I came to know her little cry very quickly, and every time I would hear a cry out in the hallway, I would say “No, that’s not her… no, that’s not her… yep, that’s her!” and in she would come!

Fast-forward through six very difficult weeks (not excessively difficult, just difficult in the usual “first six weeks of a baby's life” way) – 4th of July weekend, 2005. We have a fight. A stupid, normal fight: he came home from the golf course to greet his sister and her family, who were swinging through on their way home from a vacation, and then he was going BACK to the golf course - I mean, come on, was I being unreasonable, or was this really necessary?! I thought I was not talking to HIM. For three days I thought I was the one not talking to HIM. As it turns out, HE was not talking to ME. We finally sat down to “talk.” To resolve the fight, I thought. And he informed me that he DIDN'T WANT TO BE MARRIED ANY MORE. Um, what?!

That summer was pretty shitty, as you can imagine. Here I am with a new baby - hormonal, exhausted, confused, out of my mind, and alone, my husband gone, for a reason that was beyond incomprehensible to me (we weren't “right” together, according to him - mind you, I still didn't really know about HER). I spent most of the time crying, and trying to deal with a newborn who was also crying! Horrible, awful, terrible, horrendous, miserable, dreadful – none of these words comes close to describing that horrible, awful, terrible, horrendous, miserable, dreadful year.

But it was also a wonderful, amazing, terrific, extraordinary, marvelous, and incredible year. Being Avery’s mom is, by FAR, the best thing I have ever done. It is awesome. She amazes me every day! She is beautiful, and very bright (yes, I know, every mom says this about her kids!). Her first year was a year of wonder for me. She is a very happy girl. Today at three, she is very chatty. But even then, she was making noises non-stop! I always played music for her as she was going to sleep (Sade usually), and as soon as she was able to stand holding on to the railings of her crib, she started dancing!
My favorite time of the day during her first year was our morning snuggle time. When she woke up, I would bring her into my bed with me, and it was just such a serene time. We would cuddle, and drift in and out of sleep. Now she wakes up full of energy and ready to start the day, but back then we had a good half hour in the morning to hang out in peace.

During her first year, Avery’s dad lived with a friend and finally got his own place, but it wasn’t anyplace he could take her (I never saw it, but he called it “Fight Club” – nasty). He spent time with her at our house, and sometimes I would hang out, crying in the other room, but it was better for all of us if I tried to be elsewhere. Eventually, he got an apartment, and when Avery was about 6 months old, she started sleeping over with him.

During this same year, I was teaching French and Spanish at a small, private, Catholic school for girls. That part of my life was wonderful! I had accepted the position literally 4 days before the start of the school year, and I was a first-time teacher, dealing with everything else in my life at the time! Somehow, my ex had led me to believe that if I had a regular job, it would help to hold our marriage together. Obviously, it did not. But those girls and the other faculty members were my angels! And none of them knew what was going on in my life. It was such a peaceful place to work – the other teachers were very kind and I still stop in to visit on occasion, 2+ years later.

And the girls were awesome! I taught French to girls in pre-K through 4th grade, and 9th grade Spanish I. The little girls were so much fun – eager to learn and full of questions. And the big girls were not always that well behaved (and I didn’t have much energy left in me to be an effective disciplinarian!), but they were a really terrific group of young ladies, and I enjoyed spending time with them during their free time, as well as in the classroom. I think (I hope!) the girls could feel how much I truly cared about them! I know I was supposed to be there to be serving and leading them, but the girls really helped to keep me sane during an extremely difficult year!