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Posted on Dec 25, 2012 at 11:17 AM

At 7:00 am on Christmas morning I was sitting at my computer crying my eyes out like a freak. “x-mas is ruined” was the sarcastic reply he sent via text after I admitted that I was hurt that he let our daughter open her big present without me being there. We had a plan to be together when she did.


She had been so excited about the gift, but beyond that I could tell that she wanted us to be together when she opened it. “Mom, I think you should stay the night at Dad’s Christmas Eve.”


“I’m not staying the night at your Dad’s Sapphire. I have a home of my own.” I was short with her, softening when I heard my tone played back as my voice. “Is there a reason you think I should sleep there because I only live seven minutes away. I can be there at what ever time you wish.”


My rebound put her back in the game, “You have to be there EARLY mom!!! Dad has to work but he said I can open one present before he leaves in the morning.” Her eyes were diamonds.


I laughed easily as I reassured her I would be there, “This coming from the girl who sleeps till noon!!! I get up as earlier as your dad most days Sapphire. You let me know what time and I will be there on the dot….”


The time on my phone read 5:45am. It was late and I had not received a call. His voice was scratchy from sleep when he answered, “Sh*t what time is it!!” There was a small scuffle followed by a groan that meant he had overslept, “My alarm didn’t go off. I need to call my work. I have to go.”

I barely had time to say, “Merry Christmas,” before he hung up.

It was nearly six when I realized that he wasn’t going to call me back. I had expected him to follow up because he knew that Sapphire was expecting me before he left. I dialed him questioning, “Hey, what’s the plan?”

“Ummmmmmm… I’m going to work….”


I was patient with the redundancy of the obvious, “I know you are working today. What about the present and subsequent plans?”


He replied like a cat that had eaten a canary, “Oh, no need to come. I let her open it last night. I stayed up until nearly midnight putting it together for her.”


I was numb as I hung up the phone without a good-bye.

My marriage was an adaptation of hurt and it was also the greatest accomplishment of my life. Seventeen years; I spent more time with my first husband than I did with my own parents. I ran away from them at sixteen. I wasn’t the kind of girl who dreamed of a big wedding and a dashing prince. The dream I had most frequently as a child was one that kept me hidden in a forest with a canopy made of light. The cottage was simple cobblestone and straw. I swept with a broom made of sticks and sang as my daughter picked flowers not far from the window which didn’t need glass because it never rained and the temperature was always just right. It was a perfect world and it was always just the two of us, my daughter and I. I had the dream so often that it almost felt like destiny; I remember clinging to it as I woke not wanting to get up or out of bed even at the protest of my bladder which didn’t care if it went in the bed or somewhere more appropriate.


The little girl in that dream was born on my 25th birthday and I remember thinking about all the things I wanted to give her, what I hoped her life would be. I wanted her to have a family and most importantly a dad. I wanted her to have a normal life with two parents that never went away. I remember being terrified that I wouldn’t be able to keep us together. He was beyond unhappy when he found out I was pregnant. I manipulated the retelling of the event in the scrapbook I made for her when she was a baby,

“Your dad was at work when I took the pregnancy tests. It took every bit of will power I had not to pick up the phone and tell him while he was at work. I wanted to tell him in person, to see the expression on his face. It seemed like an eternity, but he finally came home. I told him that I had a surprise for him and I sat him down on the couch. Then I had him close his eyes and hold out his hands. With that I put BOTH pregnancy tests in his hands and I waited with eager anticipation for him to open his eyes. Yet, when at last he did open them he just sat there looking at what he was holding as if it came from another planet. “READ IT,” I urged him “You’re pregnant?” He asked. Then without waiting for an answer he replied, “No way. I don’t believe it…..”


I left the story (which is an actual account) there because I couldn’t extend upon the reality that followed without hurting her. I couldn’t tell her that his face fell like I had just told him his best friend had been murdered. He wasn’t excited at all, in fact, he seemed like a man with one foot out the door and things between us were good. My head was suddenly frantic, swimming with dread and a fear of abandonment. I crumpled, curling inwardly, unable to keep myself together as I tried desperately to understand. I tried to push those memories out as I finished the page of her scrapbook.

“The funny thing about it was that I didn’t believe it either. It seemed impossible. We had been trying to have a baby but both of us had convinced ourselves that for some reason or another we simply were not able to conceive. After all this wasn’t the first time we had tried to have a baby. We had tried MANY times over the six years we had been together without success. Babies were something that God gave to other people, not us.” Yet you were here growing in my tummy, a miracle. I didn’t allow myself to believe until I saw you on the ultra-sound screen. There you were, our little peanut, each heartbeat telling us, “I’m alive.”


This is my first Christmas as a single woman and as much as my heart is broken for all that the wrongs that I couldn't right in my marriage I carry peace in knowing that I changed the story because I believed when he couldn’t. He is an amazing dad and she is a “Daddy’s Girl” to the point of my exclusion. My ex stood in front of me not even a week ago shoulders slumped as if he had been assaulted, “I can’t believe that you gave up on us. Not you, Amber. I would never in a million years expect that from you.”


I was like the little train that could because I believed that we could be everything that I wanted, that I needed, if I worked at it, if I believed. I cried until there was nothing left inside of me that day I told him that we would be parents and then I let the numb set in as I tried to understand his position.


“We had been trying for a baby. This was not an accidental pregnancy. Why was he unhappy?”

The Life You Live is a CHOICE- I choose HAPPY :)
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Posted on Dec 25, 2012 at 11:18 AM


My marriage was an adaptation of hurt because I learned over time to let go of my emotions as I struggled to hold a sane and rational mind. I despised the idea that his actions could devastate me so completely and at the same time I rejected the probability that he wasn’t the right guy for me. My feelings were my responsibility and if I was unhappy I would need to find a way to change things. If I wanted things to work with him, to keep my vows as a wife, I would need to figure out how to get what I needed without compromising myself because things rarely played out the way I expected them too.




This morning is an example of that pattern. I was surprised that he didn’t respect me enough to have the courtesy to call and let me know that the plans had changed so that I could be there when our little girl opened up her Christmas gift. He is generally both thoughtful and considerate which just leaves me with the reality that he is simply doesn’t care. My first and very emotional reaction was to cut him out of the day entirely just like he cut me out of that memory with her. I invited him to my families Christmas dinner because his own family lives in California and I wanted our daughter to have a Christmas with both parents. Every part of me wants to tell him to go f*ck himself especially because she favors him. Her dad can do no wrong and his choice made me the mom that wasn’t there again. It would be the easiest thing to let things get ugly so that he shares the same fate. I could make him the dad that is absent. My mother showed me how.




I don’t want that. I don’t want anything but love and happiness for my family and as much as I hate the hurt my ex husband does not think much about he will always be family and it is my responsibility to do right by her by him.




I don’t know if I will ever be loved the way that I should be by a man, but I can say that I have always expected that I will be which is why I let go of my marriage after so many years. My expectations have always been high and if I were to describe myself I would say that I am demanding. I want a life of excellence and exceptional standards.




If you are lucky enough to be with your true love this Christmas I hope you remember that the little things matter because they are the biggest.




Courtesy, Respect, Understanding, Trust, Thoughtfulness, Caring, Patience, and Forgiveness.




Love is a recipe of those good things. I wish all of you who are reading a lifetime of those gifts.




Merry Christmas with LOVE,






Ps. My daughter should never know that her dad didn't want her because that is not the truth. He was just afraid that he would fail her and it should noted that he never has.



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The Life You Live is a CHOICE- I choose HAPPY :)
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