October has been a not so great month anyway, as far as weather goes anyway. It just brings a person down. Add in the stress of a blended family, and its just a sarcastic joy to get out of bed in the morning.
Holidays are pretty touchy around here as you may well imagine. Halloween being one that was never put on the visitation schedule. It was just left as where ever it fell, that's where my step daughter would be. Because I have a friendly relationship with my daughters father, we would from time to time, go trick or treating together if he was not working. That way he could see her as well. Although we knew it wouldn't work as well with my husband ex, we decided to try it the last few years. It was OK. Tolerable. Unfortunately, after this last year of stress and the way tempers have flared, with her calling the police on me, and the behaviors of my step daughter, we decided we would just do trick or treating alone this year.
Yesterday, the local school calls, and wants me to come pick up my daughter because she is showing signs of the flu. We are normally suppose to have my step daughter this weekend. We decided, due to the flu, we would try to keep it localized, and called his ex asking if she would keep my step daughter this weekend in exchange for next Thursday and Friday. You see, she didn't have school next Thursday and Friday. With out even answering the question, she says, "Do I get to go trick or treating with you guys". My husband said, "I'm sorry, that would be a no". I'm sorry but what does she expect after the last month, that I'm going to go skipping down the street with her and my step daughter having a gay old time??? I can't even fathom it. So, she spends the next half hour on the phone yelling at my husband about everything he has done wrong while caring for their daughter....I finally said loud enough for her to hear, OK, you guys are way off track. Either we pick her up tonight and expose her to the flu, or we pick her up next week after everyone is better. She finally just said OK, what ever and hung up the phone. I can't handle her crap. There are days that evil things run through my mind. And I am not an evil person. I love my children and my husband, and yes even my step daughter. As many times as I tell my self, that two wrongs don't make a right, and that you should do unto others as you would have done to you....It at times is just not enough to stop me from feeling so much anger towards his ex. I would sometimes call it loathing. And I feel awful inside, just for feeling that way about someone else. God help me...can I survive until she's 18? And even then will it change a thing?
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
School Begins
As the summer was half over, it had still not been decided where my step daughter would attend school. You see, as I stated earlier, my husband found it impossible to communicate with his ex. Every time he tried to bring the subject up, it ended in an impossible fight. We tried coming up with ideas on our own. She agreed at first, she didn't want attorneys involved either. That was a waste of time, and they should be able to agree on something with out attorneys. Every idea we brought to the table was shot down. Finally, we met with her one day, after giving her some ideas on paper for visitation and school scheduling. She was smooth, we met in a public place, a restaurant and ordered drinks. We talked first about my step daughter and how she was doing. Then we moved to ideas. Then, she brings out a folder and says, that she had an attorney look at it. We were in shock. How dumb could we have been to take her word for the fact that she did not want to involve attorneys. How stupid to think that we could all work this out, like adults, to do what is in the best interest of the child. We could never have been more wrong. What a burn.
We took the paperwork home and looked it over. It was fair for the most part. Except for the fact that my husband wanted desperately to have his daughter go to school where we were living, not where his ex was living. He could recall that she had at one time even stated she did not want her child going to school there. And now here she was, asking him to let his daughter go there.
The argument went on right up to the point of school starting. Finally I was the one who was pushy. I said to my husband, I know you don't want her to. But in her best interest, you guys haven't agreed on anything. We should sign and agree and just move on with it. Things can always change in the future. He really didn't want to agree, but for my sake he did. And trust me, I knew he wasn't happy about it.
So Kindergarten started, and as we knew what to expect, letters of misbehavior starting going home to her biological mother. One day she wouldn't listen and be defiant, and the next she was throwing rocks at windows. We were working on counseling in our home, with my husband and I, but we had no individual counselor for our step daughter. Our county wouldn't take her because she went to school in a different county. Our local counselors wouldn't take assistance. Which is what we had been on for a while since my husband had been laid off. We felt we were banging our heads on a wall trying to talk with his ex about it. She would say that yes she agreed and she would try to find a counselor, but it never happened.
It got to a point where my husband would have to sit with his daughter on the floor, with her on his lap, and cross her arms. To keep her from hurting us or herself. She would throw anything she could find, with perfect accuracy. Right at our heads. It did not matter what, if it was in her reach, it could be thrown. She would bite me, scratch me, hit and punch. She would do the same to her dad, but not as hard of course. She would start calling me names. Then, the one thing that made us decide enough was enough. She wanted me dead, and my head cut off. And if I was dead and her step daddy were dead, then her mommy and daddy could be together. We were in shock to say the least.
We confronted her biological mother. And of course, she looked at us blankly like she didn't know what we were talking about. My husband finally told her, that he would find a counselor and he would take her, and she couldn't do anything about it.
We found a counselor in a different town that would take assistance, and worked closely with Phsycitrists. It looked that maybe there was a little spark of hope.
She has gone 3 times now. The first time she went, My husband , I and her biological mom all went for the initial interview. Everyone was cordial, but it was tense. Between the first time and the second time there was an incident. It changed the way I decided to deal with things from here on out.
I was home alone with my step daughter. My husband is taking classes and is gone on Saturdays, so I'm left to fend for myself most of the time. Usually, my step daughter is OK, if she's doing things that SHE herself wants to do. If you ask her to do something, watch out. I made the mistake. She got very defiant, and said to me that I was not her mom. I said, I know that's fine, but please still do what I ask. She then started throwing things. OK, Time out time. But, I was alone, just her and I. No witness to what was about to happen. She refused to go to the time out chair. So I picked her up, and set her in the chair, and told her that once she was quiet for 6 minutes, she could get off and go about her day. She said to me, " I don't have to listen to you, you fat bitch." Now, this was not the first time she had called me that. My husband had heard her say that before. That was it for me! I reached over and smacked her lips with my open hand. Not hard, but enough to get her attention. I told her that she was NEVER allowed to talk that way in this house. After a period of time, she finished her time out, said she was sorry, and the day went on. My husband came home, she greeted him, and it was just like nothing had ever happened. Until the following Wednesday when I got phone call from our local police department.
My step daughter had apparently went home on Sunday, and the first thing she said was that I had hit her. So her mother went directly to the police. I was told by the officer, that even though it was just a little slap, by law, I could not touch her. She was my step daughter. I decided then, I was for one, completely done with her biological mother. I was no longer going to be the middle man. They could do it themselves. And number two, I was never going to be alone with my step daughter again. I had put my self in these positions, and it was time to take control, and not give them what they wanted anymore.
So, the second counseling appointment, my husband went alone and met his ex. I did not go. And although things were tense they survived. But the counselor apparently spent more time being a middle man for them than counseling my step daughter, so it was decided they would take turns taking her to the counselor. Today is the third visit, and her biological mom is taking her. I would love to be a fly on the wall at that visit today. It bothers me to know shes bad mouthing me every chance she gets to a little girl. But I have to let it not show, and be the bigger person. What a challenge that is.
Some days, this ride makes me so sick to my stomach I don't want to get back on.
We took the paperwork home and looked it over. It was fair for the most part. Except for the fact that my husband wanted desperately to have his daughter go to school where we were living, not where his ex was living. He could recall that she had at one time even stated she did not want her child going to school there. And now here she was, asking him to let his daughter go there.
The argument went on right up to the point of school starting. Finally I was the one who was pushy. I said to my husband, I know you don't want her to. But in her best interest, you guys haven't agreed on anything. We should sign and agree and just move on with it. Things can always change in the future. He really didn't want to agree, but for my sake he did. And trust me, I knew he wasn't happy about it.
So Kindergarten started, and as we knew what to expect, letters of misbehavior starting going home to her biological mother. One day she wouldn't listen and be defiant, and the next she was throwing rocks at windows. We were working on counseling in our home, with my husband and I, but we had no individual counselor for our step daughter. Our county wouldn't take her because she went to school in a different county. Our local counselors wouldn't take assistance. Which is what we had been on for a while since my husband had been laid off. We felt we were banging our heads on a wall trying to talk with his ex about it. She would say that yes she agreed and she would try to find a counselor, but it never happened.
It got to a point where my husband would have to sit with his daughter on the floor, with her on his lap, and cross her arms. To keep her from hurting us or herself. She would throw anything she could find, with perfect accuracy. Right at our heads. It did not matter what, if it was in her reach, it could be thrown. She would bite me, scratch me, hit and punch. She would do the same to her dad, but not as hard of course. She would start calling me names. Then, the one thing that made us decide enough was enough. She wanted me dead, and my head cut off. And if I was dead and her step daddy were dead, then her mommy and daddy could be together. We were in shock to say the least.
We confronted her biological mother. And of course, she looked at us blankly like she didn't know what we were talking about. My husband finally told her, that he would find a counselor and he would take her, and she couldn't do anything about it.
We found a counselor in a different town that would take assistance, and worked closely with Phsycitrists. It looked that maybe there was a little spark of hope.
She has gone 3 times now. The first time she went, My husband , I and her biological mom all went for the initial interview. Everyone was cordial, but it was tense. Between the first time and the second time there was an incident. It changed the way I decided to deal with things from here on out.
I was home alone with my step daughter. My husband is taking classes and is gone on Saturdays, so I'm left to fend for myself most of the time. Usually, my step daughter is OK, if she's doing things that SHE herself wants to do. If you ask her to do something, watch out. I made the mistake. She got very defiant, and said to me that I was not her mom. I said, I know that's fine, but please still do what I ask. She then started throwing things. OK, Time out time. But, I was alone, just her and I. No witness to what was about to happen. She refused to go to the time out chair. So I picked her up, and set her in the chair, and told her that once she was quiet for 6 minutes, she could get off and go about her day. She said to me, " I don't have to listen to you, you fat bitch." Now, this was not the first time she had called me that. My husband had heard her say that before. That was it for me! I reached over and smacked her lips with my open hand. Not hard, but enough to get her attention. I told her that she was NEVER allowed to talk that way in this house. After a period of time, she finished her time out, said she was sorry, and the day went on. My husband came home, she greeted him, and it was just like nothing had ever happened. Until the following Wednesday when I got phone call from our local police department.
My step daughter had apparently went home on Sunday, and the first thing she said was that I had hit her. So her mother went directly to the police. I was told by the officer, that even though it was just a little slap, by law, I could not touch her. She was my step daughter. I decided then, I was for one, completely done with her biological mother. I was no longer going to be the middle man. They could do it themselves. And number two, I was never going to be alone with my step daughter again. I had put my self in these positions, and it was time to take control, and not give them what they wanted anymore.
So, the second counseling appointment, my husband went alone and met his ex. I did not go. And although things were tense they survived. But the counselor apparently spent more time being a middle man for them than counseling my step daughter, so it was decided they would take turns taking her to the counselor. Today is the third visit, and her biological mom is taking her. I would love to be a fly on the wall at that visit today. It bothers me to know shes bad mouthing me every chance she gets to a little girl. But I have to let it not show, and be the bigger person. What a challenge that is.
Some days, this ride makes me so sick to my stomach I don't want to get back on.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
My Deep Dark Hole
In 2005, my sister flew in from California to visit for a week. I was so excited. I had only learned the year before that I even had a sister. So for us to spend a week together was exciting. We had so many plans, and things we wanted to do together. It was going to be great. Her visit was during our time with our step daughter as well. So, as it turned out, it was stressful. Half way through the week, we decided to take the children bowling. A real treat. During the bowling trip, I ended up falling down the stairs, and injuring my shoulder. It put a damper on things, but we tryed to finish out the week on a good note.
As it would turn out, I needed surgery on my shoulder in order to fix it. I was in such extreme pain. I couldn't do my "normal" activities and it made it difficult to care for the children. It put us in quite a position. We really had no help in the home, and my husband had to work. We had no choice. I did my best to do what I could alone. The stress kept building. We set the surgery for January. It would be slow where my husband worked, and he could take a little time off to help me after I got home. I never realized how painful and long the recovery would be.
Spring came, and with it some hope. Things were still hard, but I was trying harder to make it work. Not realizing that each day I spent with my step daughter and her behaviors were pushing me to a breaking point. I just kept doing the best I could do.
The following winter, I got sick again. We didn't know what was going on. I ended up with a severe infection and cysts on my ovaries. I had to have a full hysterectomy. The recovery was longer and more painful than the shoulder surgery. The stressors kept on coming. I couldn't see an end it sight.
Following the surgery, I fell into a depression. I couldn't see how I could handle all the stress anymore. I became angry and I had a very difficult time dealing with our step daughters issues. I felt I never had the time to take care of myself. I had spent all this time caring for everyone but me. When was it my turn? And did I have to sit and endure all this abuse from a 4 year old? Was I really that crazy? I mean come on. How can you feel like a 4 year old is abusive? After all, she only a child.
I sank deeper and deeper into the depression. I needed help. And lots of it. I loved my husband. I couldn't picture my life with out him. But it was his baggage I could do with out. And there was no getting away from that. I felt I was loosing it. Not able to control my own emotions anymore, causing more stress on our marriage, and our children. It got to the point where my oldest children started taking care of me. And I was ashamed. I could no longer handle being a parent. Where had I gone wrong? I could only see that I had let all my children down time after time. If I couldn't be a parent, I shouldn't even be alive. That's exactly how I felt. I could easily rationalize all of it. They were better off, not having to take care of me. With the fear of being out of control, I ended up in the hospital.
Recovery ...its a long long process. I was in denial for so long. Medications and therapy, no matter how embarrassing, were helping. I had to dig my self out somehow. The hole had gotten so big, that I had fallen back in a few times. But, with help, I climbed back up the deep hole each time. Which brings us up to the present. Still recovering, and still dealing . My step daughter is now 6. And the behavior is worse than ever. But, I have made the decision to not let it get the better of me anymore. I need to let it make a better me. So here we are. I'm going to take you through, some difficult, some sad, and some fun times. Step parenting is a ride. But if you love your spouse the way I love mine, you'll take the ride at your own risk, as I am.
As it would turn out, I needed surgery on my shoulder in order to fix it. I was in such extreme pain. I couldn't do my "normal" activities and it made it difficult to care for the children. It put us in quite a position. We really had no help in the home, and my husband had to work. We had no choice. I did my best to do what I could alone. The stress kept building. We set the surgery for January. It would be slow where my husband worked, and he could take a little time off to help me after I got home. I never realized how painful and long the recovery would be.
Spring came, and with it some hope. Things were still hard, but I was trying harder to make it work. Not realizing that each day I spent with my step daughter and her behaviors were pushing me to a breaking point. I just kept doing the best I could do.
The following winter, I got sick again. We didn't know what was going on. I ended up with a severe infection and cysts on my ovaries. I had to have a full hysterectomy. The recovery was longer and more painful than the shoulder surgery. The stressors kept on coming. I couldn't see an end it sight.
Following the surgery, I fell into a depression. I couldn't see how I could handle all the stress anymore. I became angry and I had a very difficult time dealing with our step daughters issues. I felt I never had the time to take care of myself. I had spent all this time caring for everyone but me. When was it my turn? And did I have to sit and endure all this abuse from a 4 year old? Was I really that crazy? I mean come on. How can you feel like a 4 year old is abusive? After all, she only a child.
I sank deeper and deeper into the depression. I needed help. And lots of it. I loved my husband. I couldn't picture my life with out him. But it was his baggage I could do with out. And there was no getting away from that. I felt I was loosing it. Not able to control my own emotions anymore, causing more stress on our marriage, and our children. It got to the point where my oldest children started taking care of me. And I was ashamed. I could no longer handle being a parent. Where had I gone wrong? I could only see that I had let all my children down time after time. If I couldn't be a parent, I shouldn't even be alive. That's exactly how I felt. I could easily rationalize all of it. They were better off, not having to take care of me. With the fear of being out of control, I ended up in the hospital.
Recovery ...its a long long process. I was in denial for so long. Medications and therapy, no matter how embarrassing, were helping. I had to dig my self out somehow. The hole had gotten so big, that I had fallen back in a few times. But, with help, I climbed back up the deep hole each time. Which brings us up to the present. Still recovering, and still dealing . My step daughter is now 6. And the behavior is worse than ever. But, I have made the decision to not let it get the better of me anymore. I need to let it make a better me. So here we are. I'm going to take you through, some difficult, some sad, and some fun times. Step parenting is a ride. But if you love your spouse the way I love mine, you'll take the ride at your own risk, as I am.
Monday, October 19, 2009
The Tantrums
After the first year, we began to see more and more behavior issues with my new step-daughter. At first glance, one would think, "OK, terrible two's. We can deal with this" . After all, I am the mother to three other children. Ive been through the terrible two's before. It's all a stage.
Communication with her biological mom was not good. It never had been. To give a brief history, she has her own issues. Violent outbursts, and such. She had attacked my husband a time or two while they were married, and even after they were separated. She spent three days in jail for one incident. She would just blow up, and you definitely didn't want to be around. She was known to hit, kick , pinch, bite, slap, throw things, and yell and scream. They had not had a calm relationship. Hence the reason for the divorce. We had voiced our concerns at one point to Social Services. They talked to her, but nothing ever came of it. To keep things calm, we just kept trudging along with the visitation the way it was. Routine, we thought would be the best thing for my step-daughter. And facilitating communication, that was my job. My husband found it impossible to talk with the biological mother. Everything was blown out of proportion, and turned into an argument. Making our lives more difficult. So, I agreed to be the middle man.
Potty training and bottle breaking were a struggle. Every time, we made a break through on that front, we would have to send her back to her biological mother. When she came back to us, everything we worked on with her the week before would be undone. We went through months of this. Finally I came up with a plan. Stickers and treats! Every kid loves them. We created a board, a sticker board. We placed it in the bathroom along with a basket of stickers and treats. Every time she went to the bathroom on her own, she placed a sticker on the board and got a treat. With in two weeks, the diapers and pull ups were gone.
Still, the tantrums remained. They were getting more and more violent. Throwing items, kicking, screaming, (and I don't mean like a baby screaming) I'm talking about a blood curdling, someone is killing me scream. We dealt with it. It was stressful. At this point, my husband is still working his long hour job and I am home with the kids. There were times I didn't think I would make it through the day. Time outs didn't work. So I just let her scream. And she wouldn't wear herself out. It would go on for hours and hours at a time.
Then, the tantrums turned physical. My own daughter is actually four years older than my step daughter. My daughter suffers from Noonan Syndrome. A genetic condition that makes her size much smaller than normal, and many health issues. She was in essence the same size as my step-daughter who was four years younger. My step-daughter had no problem turning on my daughter. Hitting, biting, pinching, kicking. As she got older, she began doing those things to me. And I would just take it. I would holler, and I would scream at her, but I never touched her. She would draw blood. I would just sit her in a chair, and at my wits end, the next thing I knew I was screaming at her. "Why do you do this!" "What is wrong with you!" I could feel it, I was beginning to resent her. And I didn't like the feeling at all. I was suffocating. I felt I couldn't control myself much longer with out help. My husband didn't know what to do. With four children to support, he couldn't be home much, and it started to strain our relationship. I didn't know where things were going to go from there. I felt totally alone.
Communication with her biological mom was not good. It never had been. To give a brief history, she has her own issues. Violent outbursts, and such. She had attacked my husband a time or two while they were married, and even after they were separated. She spent three days in jail for one incident. She would just blow up, and you definitely didn't want to be around. She was known to hit, kick , pinch, bite, slap, throw things, and yell and scream. They had not had a calm relationship. Hence the reason for the divorce. We had voiced our concerns at one point to Social Services. They talked to her, but nothing ever came of it. To keep things calm, we just kept trudging along with the visitation the way it was. Routine, we thought would be the best thing for my step-daughter. And facilitating communication, that was my job. My husband found it impossible to talk with the biological mother. Everything was blown out of proportion, and turned into an argument. Making our lives more difficult. So, I agreed to be the middle man.
Potty training and bottle breaking were a struggle. Every time, we made a break through on that front, we would have to send her back to her biological mother. When she came back to us, everything we worked on with her the week before would be undone. We went through months of this. Finally I came up with a plan. Stickers and treats! Every kid loves them. We created a board, a sticker board. We placed it in the bathroom along with a basket of stickers and treats. Every time she went to the bathroom on her own, she placed a sticker on the board and got a treat. With in two weeks, the diapers and pull ups were gone.
Still, the tantrums remained. They were getting more and more violent. Throwing items, kicking, screaming, (and I don't mean like a baby screaming) I'm talking about a blood curdling, someone is killing me scream. We dealt with it. It was stressful. At this point, my husband is still working his long hour job and I am home with the kids. There were times I didn't think I would make it through the day. Time outs didn't work. So I just let her scream. And she wouldn't wear herself out. It would go on for hours and hours at a time.
Then, the tantrums turned physical. My own daughter is actually four years older than my step daughter. My daughter suffers from Noonan Syndrome. A genetic condition that makes her size much smaller than normal, and many health issues. She was in essence the same size as my step-daughter who was four years younger. My step-daughter had no problem turning on my daughter. Hitting, biting, pinching, kicking. As she got older, she began doing those things to me. And I would just take it. I would holler, and I would scream at her, but I never touched her. She would draw blood. I would just sit her in a chair, and at my wits end, the next thing I knew I was screaming at her. "Why do you do this!" "What is wrong with you!" I could feel it, I was beginning to resent her. And I didn't like the feeling at all. I was suffocating. I felt I couldn't control myself much longer with out help. My husband didn't know what to do. With four children to support, he couldn't be home much, and it started to strain our relationship. I didn't know where things were going to go from there. I felt totally alone.
The First Year
The first year was filled with ups and downs, as any normal family I suppose would have. We lived together first in a small apartment. He worked a very good paying factory job, with long hours, leaving me as the main adult in the home. I took over all the parental duties. Feedings, diaper changes, baths, taking care of her when she was sick , up with her all night when she was cranky. You name it. I was in essence - a mom. I had my own children as well to take care of, doing the same things for them. She eventually began calling me...mommy.
She was with us every other week, all week long. Sunday through Sunday. She would then go to her Mothers house for the next week. Back and forth is how it always went. No bags to pack as we had our own clothes, food, bottles etc. Each was responsible for what she needed when she was at their home. Sounds so simple doesn't it.
She was a colicky baby. Or that's what I related it to at the time. She would cry for hours on end. And want to be held all the time. She was a baby, how could you not indulge her. I spent so much time with her during her weeks with us, she could have been another appendage. Most of the time if not on my lap, or on my hip, she wouldn't leave my side. As she developed and started speaking, it became clear to her "Biological" mother that the baby had began to call me mommy. It infuriated her, and she made it known by taking it out on my boyfriend. She would yell and holler and say "She has ONE mommy and that's me!" Little did we know that she was also making it clear to a toddler what she should and shouldn't say. We made no attempt to correct her. As far as she knew, she had two mommy's, and to us, that was OK.
Time went by and in May of 2004 we married, on a beach in California in a small but beautiful ceremony. I felt in my heart, I had finally made it. The love of my life, even with a little ex drama, was everything I had ever wanted.
By the time the baby turned 1, we had moved up in the world from little apartment, 3 bedroom mobile home. Her birthday was the day after Christmas, and as luck would have it, the visitation schedule had her with us for Christmas and her birthday. We wanted it to be special for her. And we enjoyed being a family.
She was with us every other week, all week long. Sunday through Sunday. She would then go to her Mothers house for the next week. Back and forth is how it always went. No bags to pack as we had our own clothes, food, bottles etc. Each was responsible for what she needed when she was at their home. Sounds so simple doesn't it.
She was a colicky baby. Or that's what I related it to at the time. She would cry for hours on end. And want to be held all the time. She was a baby, how could you not indulge her. I spent so much time with her during her weeks with us, she could have been another appendage. Most of the time if not on my lap, or on my hip, she wouldn't leave my side. As she developed and started speaking, it became clear to her "Biological" mother that the baby had began to call me mommy. It infuriated her, and she made it known by taking it out on my boyfriend. She would yell and holler and say "She has ONE mommy and that's me!" Little did we know that she was also making it clear to a toddler what she should and shouldn't say. We made no attempt to correct her. As far as she knew, she had two mommy's, and to us, that was OK.
Time went by and in May of 2004 we married, on a beach in California in a small but beautiful ceremony. I felt in my heart, I had finally made it. The love of my life, even with a little ex drama, was everything I had ever wanted.
By the time the baby turned 1, we had moved up in the world from little apartment, 3 bedroom mobile home. Her birthday was the day after Christmas, and as luck would have it, the visitation schedule had her with us for Christmas and her birthday. We wanted it to be special for her. And we enjoyed being a family.
The Beginning of Reality
I have three wonderful children of my own. When I was 21, I had twin boys, then divorced. At 27, I had daughter, and divorced again. So really, I was well versed on disfuntional families and motherhood. Or so I thought. Not that I went into my third marriage with my eyes closed, or arrogant. I just felt I had what it took to be a good step parent. To begin with, I was going to have it easy. The child wasn't here yet. I also came from a blended family, so I knew about being a step-child. When the relationship began, his ex was pregnant. It was a risk, I know. But in hind sight, I was so in love, I could never have imagined what someone elses unborn child could bring to my future.
I was there with my "boyfriend" at the time, when his daughter was born. Well, not there, at the hospital. He wasn't even there at the hospital. He went to the hospital while his ex was in labor, and was basically told to leave. Not even allowed to see his daughter make her apperance into the world. We had gotten a motel room there in the town where she was to be born. It was the day after Christmas, and they were inducing his ex that morning. So we made sure we were there in town the night before. I didn't want him to miss a thing. Unfortunately for him, his ex made sure he did. He did go back later, to hold his daughter, but it was very short lived.
She used every excuse in the book at first. She was breast feeding, the baby couldnt be away from her for any length of time. So we took what we could get. It started as a few hours here and there. And she would purposly send the baby with not enough breast milk, knowing when she was out, that was the end of the visit. I would try to make the visits longer for my boyfriend by giving her water in between, but they still ended too soon. It was an awful divorce and custody battle, and I could see how hard it was for him to be away from his daughter. It worked up to overnights, and weekends. And then finally after a year it came time for the divorce hearing. The judge ordered 50/50 custody and placement. His ex had made the mistake of bringing the baby to the courthouse. (who brings the baby to their divorce hearing?) So, the judge ordered that he got to take her home right then and there. A small victory. And so it began......
I was there with my "boyfriend" at the time, when his daughter was born. Well, not there, at the hospital. He wasn't even there at the hospital. He went to the hospital while his ex was in labor, and was basically told to leave. Not even allowed to see his daughter make her apperance into the world. We had gotten a motel room there in the town where she was to be born. It was the day after Christmas, and they were inducing his ex that morning. So we made sure we were there in town the night before. I didn't want him to miss a thing. Unfortunately for him, his ex made sure he did. He did go back later, to hold his daughter, but it was very short lived.
She used every excuse in the book at first. She was breast feeding, the baby couldnt be away from her for any length of time. So we took what we could get. It started as a few hours here and there. And she would purposly send the baby with not enough breast milk, knowing when she was out, that was the end of the visit. I would try to make the visits longer for my boyfriend by giving her water in between, but they still ended too soon. It was an awful divorce and custody battle, and I could see how hard it was for him to be away from his daughter. It worked up to overnights, and weekends. And then finally after a year it came time for the divorce hearing. The judge ordered 50/50 custody and placement. His ex had made the mistake of bringing the baby to the courthouse. (who brings the baby to their divorce hearing?) So, the judge ordered that he got to take her home right then and there. A small victory. And so it began......
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