Bombaversary

I already don’t want to blog tomorrow but I feel like August 25 should be acknowledged. I’m doing this post in bullet points because everyone is talking me out of using real bullets, though I think we all agree that the impact of this day felt like a death. 

• It’s the day Jacob first took me to court for custody—except I didn’t think he was actually trying to get custody because his claim was so far fetched and ridiculous. 

• He lies to the judge and said I’d been served but refused to accept the papers. I challenged him and the judge set a new date for the hearing, requiring him to produce evidence that he served the papers. 

• We were supposed to have another hearing that afternoon for child support. He went to the judge and asked to be excused. 

• He texted me after running out of the courthouse saying he couldn’t make the support hearing (how convenient) and that he was at the birth of his twins. 

• I thought he was talking about some patient he was working with at the hospital. I didn’t respond for a while. It didn’t make sense. I don’t know how long I sat on a Jay Street bench, staring at my phone. But it clicked, and then my whole body went into a state of panic and hysteria. I probably should not have been alone. 

• This was the first time he admitted to having an affair, let alone having twins from the affair. A week prior, he was at my apartment, telling the girls he was moving back in, saying he was living with some guy roommates. 

• I still had the appointment for the support hearing that I was supposed to go to, even without him. I went and sat down in front of the judge alone. I bawled uncontrollably for a ling time while the judge and clerks tried to be patient. I couldn’t stop. The hearing was rescheduled, just like the first. 

• My mom was staying with us. I thought an angel was taking care of us for those 5 weeks. I still think of it as a very sacred, merciful visit. I told her everything. We cried together. 

• I hadn’t eaten all day. I bought a Panera sandwich and couldn’t taste it. I took an Uber home. 

• I had to tell my girls. We had planned a picnic in Central Park that night. We went anyway. I could barely walk or form sentences and probably should have stayed home. 

• I blocked Jacob on my phone. I couldn’t handle any contact. After three days, he texted my mom saying I was keeping him from lucy and he had rights to visitation that I was violating. 

• I thought it was irreparable. I thought there was no future for me or the girls with such a horrible disaster at hand. But then I realized that God wasn’t surprised. My dad wasn’t surprised. They’ve known about this for months (or forever) and so a way out was already in place. I didn’t have to forge my own future— I had to follow a path that was laid out for us. 

• I’ve felt strongly guided —almost forcefully sometimes— through some of these hard moves and decisions. 

• I had just started a job teaching high school. School hadn’t started yet but we were in training. I started blacking out at work. I had long hours of really high blood pressure and at one point the doctor said I was close to having a heart attack. The nurse grabbed my arm. “Get a grip! You can do this! Your kids need you right now and you MUST calm down and pull yourself together.” This kind of thing only happens in New York City I think. 

• A week later, I agreed to let Lucy visit him. He admitted to living with the woman (this was the first time he told anyone—including his family—that he was living with her. Even his dad thought it was a one night stand.) 

• I met her. She looked like white trash. She’s kind of fat and annoying. She bragged that her other kids learned the alphabet in preschool. His mom was there—holding the babies and telling me she thought I was going to keep Lucy from having a relationship with her. No apology. No offer to help financially or otherwise. 

• I realized that the affair had nothing to do with me. She had nothing to offer their relationship. I had a lot to bring to the table— Education, strong family, lots of friends and church fellowship, hobbies, a good brain, talents. The affair was all about needing to feel powerful, not about finding someone better. 

• Lucy is over there now. I wonder if I’ll ever stop worrying about how badly she’s being neglected. I anxiously and unproductively count the hours until she’s back. I can’t think of how badly they ignore her needs. She comes back with a bruise on her head and scraped knees and he blames me for not getting her orthotics. She has never scraped her knee or banged her head in my care. 

• I don’t believe yet that the future is bright and exciting for us. It’s a mess of visitation, anxiety, borderline poverty and anger. It’s watching childhood slip away into high school and feeling powerless to change it. 

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