Life’s lessons from teenager to adult can become confusing. Single parenting is nothing to sneeze at, especially with an 8-month-old baby. Finding a job I could bring my baby to was not easy, but it worked itself out. I kept my medical assisting job on weekends when my ex had my daughter, but I didn’t trust anyone else to watch her except a few close friends. Even my mom, who lived 40 miles away, couldn’t help me out, so bringing my baby to work was a must.
Co-parenting was not easy at all. There is this grieving process that everyone goes through when you end a relationship, and it can make for a bitter divorce. We tried hard to give my daughter the best of both worlds, but eventually, we both had another partner, and that changed the landscape.
Moving Forward
I met my new husband at the job I was working and tried to set him up with my best friend. Honestly, I wasn’t looking for a relationship; I was happy just being a mom. He and my friend didn’t hit it off that night, and I felt terrible, so I sat and talked to him instead. With a lot of coaxing over the next six months, I finally agreed to date him, and the rest was history. He was seven years older than me, so we didn’t waste time getting married and having four children together. I had a total of 5 children by the time I was 28, and he was 35.
This was my dream family, right? Yes and no. Being a mom of 5 was what I wanted (yes, my husband did too), but I was still looking for a connection that I wasn’t going to find. We struggled with the balance between parenting and keeping our relationship together, as do most families! Not to mention the stress associated with being a stepparent and dealing with my ex and his new wife. I still needed to find the missing pieces in my life but didn’t know what they were.
Around the same time, I started to teach childbirth and breastfeeding classes plus attend births as a doula. A lot of significant changes were happening to me. I loved being a full-time mother and part-time birth worker. My career was the ultimate dream for me, but mothering was my primary focus.
My new husband had the “ideal” family in my eyes, and I fell in love with all of them. It was easy to soak up the love and attention his family gave to my children and me. Including replacing those missed connections, I yearned for due to my mother and father’s absence in my life. I temporarily felt a connection to something larger than myself. It was fulfilling, but deep inside, I still missed my own “family,” whatever that was.
My mother was still dealing with her very sick husband, who died of brain cancer ten days after I delivered baby number 2. Her rocky relationship with him and his alcoholism took a significant toll on her and our relationship. Working through that didn’t come until mom was free to care for herself. Honestly, it took 20 years to mend our broken relationship. It was always a work in progress.
Finding My Missing Parent
After my 1st baby was born, I asked the Salvation Army to help me find my father (I was very resourceful). My mother never really gave me much information, except that he may have moved to Florida a long time ago, and I knew his full name. I could never understand why or how anyone could bring a child into this world and not want to know him or her. To my thinking, my father had to be pining for his long, lost daughter. Of course, throughout my childhood, I threatened my mom that I would find this “idol” (it was just the right phrase to get her attention at the time) and live with him happily ever after. Naturally, as any young girl would, I had put this “demigod” on a pedestal my whole life. It was hard to have my dreams shattered once we connected.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m satisfied that I did seek him out and form a relationship of sorts. It was the right thing to do and exciting to get that call 2 ½ years later that the Salvation Army found him. As a young 23-year-old married twice with two kids who felt like she was years ahead of her time, meeting my father and his family was beyond my comprehension. That call was a dream come true.
My father had remarried, had two young daughters and two teenage stepsons. It was initially exciting to find out I had sisters. They were only 4 and 6 years old, but it was nice to know I shared genetics with someone. I was so excited to meet these strangers that I never thought of the “what if “…what if he is a bad person, doesn’t love me, or we don’t get along. Since I’d always put him on a pedestal, it never crossed my mind that I might be disappointed.
Learning Life’s Lessons
I’ll spare you the details here, but the synopsis is that we flew to him in Florida and stayed a few days at their house for the first meeting. Mistake number 1! I Invited them to come to visit, ANYTIME, mistake number 2! Sure, you can stay at our house, mistake number 3! For three years, they had come to stay at our home every few months for weeks at a time without even a warning, an offer of money, food contribution, clean up, cook a meal, or help in any form. They sucked the life out of my husband and me, so much so that we disappeared when we moved. We did not leave a forwarding of anything. I have not been in touch with that family since. Nor has anyone ever tried to find me, that I’m aware. Recently, I looked at social media for any of them and found one of my half-sisters. I didn’t reach out, but I did notice in her pictures that HER father died in 2016. I am not grief-stricken by this information.
While meeting my deadbeat father was disappointing in every way, it helped my mother, and I get closer. Oh, it was devasting for mom to learn I had found him and would meet him, but she quickly realized I am a great judge of character, and she didn’t need to fear to lose me. You see, my mother shielded me from the truth about their divorce by telling me that it “just didn’t work out.” Even when I pressed or accused her of sending him away, she made up stories, never revealing that he was physically and verbally abusive to her. He had even started to become abusive to me at one year old. She fled and hid, as in, at a shelter, family or friend home and couch surfed for a few years until he disappeared altogether. My aunts concurred moms story, and I finally understood mom a little better from then on.
My 20’s were a time of learning what gifts I have to offer to my husband, children, and society. It was a time of growth in ways that most don’t find until their 30-40’s due to extenuating circumstances. This period molded me into the woman and mother I am today.
