I Was the Mom Who Put Her Children First

My divorce taught me I was the person I thought I was.

If you were asked about your biggest failure, what would you name?

My true failures are times I didn’t live up to my own standards. To my idea of me.

I disappointed myself the most when my first marriage dissolved. To be honest, so much was out of my control, I can’t lay the failure entirely at my own feet. The growth that happened, though, that is totally on me.

I grew up in a sometimes-chaotic environment. I have written about it before and won’t go into it here. There were broken marriages and relationships all around me. My mother had terrible taste in men until her forties.

Imagine my surprise when I got the fairytale.

As a teen, my reaction to this was to assume a wedding was not in my future. I didn’t want to live with someone telling me what to do or give away my power. I also didn’t want to tell someone else what to do.

In the back of my mind though, there was a little Disney-style fairytale. I thought if I did get married, I wanted a white picket fence and a dog. I wanted a house in the suburbs, without any stress over the rent.

Imagine my surprise when I got the fairytale. Ok, without the white picket fence. I lived in Tempe, AZ. I was lucky to have grass in the front yard.

Imagine my mother’s surprise! She said something to my grandfather about it.

“She’s 22. That’s what people do at that age. They get married and have kids.” He responded.

I smile, remembering that. Grandpa was born in 1912. He probably thought 22 was pretty late to be getting on with it.

I need you to promise me right here, right now, you won’t leave me.

Before we went down the aisle in a beautiful backyard ceremony, I panicked. It was about a week before the wedding, and I asked myself what in the hell I thought I was doing. I knew better than this.

We were laying in bed together as I panicked. I waited until my breathing returned to normal and said; “Do you think this is a good idea? Are we going to make it?”

“Of course,” he said, pulling me close. “We are going to be happy. It will be wonderful.”

About a year and a half later, a strip of paper turned blue in a cup. I panicked again. “This is serious. I’m pregnant. We have to make it. This marriage has to make it.”

He had my back, “Of course we are going to make it. We’ve made it so far, right? This is going to be amazing.”

“I need you to promise me.”

He was still on ‘calm her down’ mode; “Of course. What am I promising?”

“That we will be together forever. A wedding ceremony is one thing, but I need you to promise me right here, right now, you won’t leave me.” Yeah, I was pathetic. I’ll own that.

At that moment I saw my mother’s life, and I didn’t want it. If I had a baby, I wanted two parents in it together. I didn’t want to try to do it all myself.

“I promise.” He said. I am sure he meant it. Then.

Life happened. Nine years later, we shared two kids, a dog, a cat, and a mortgage. There was one thing we didn’t share — his girlfriend. I’m lucky we didn’t share an STD.

Then divorce happened. I learned that raising kids sort of on your own wasn’t impossible. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t impossible. He had the kids every other weekend and one night during the week. Very civilized.

I now had two kids, the dog, the cat, and the mortgage. I like being married to the right person.

I learned being divorced is better than being married to the wrong person. Even if you have kids. Even if it was a situation you had feared most of your life.

I learned I was the person I always thought I was. Once that strip turned blue, we lowered in priority. Children don’t ask to be born. They deserve the best parents, the best life we can provide.

I didn’t say the most things or a perfect life. They deserve the best life we can give them. A safe and secure life. A life where their needs are given priority.

I lived up to my standards. When my husband’s affair came out, I went into therapy to decide what to do. I always thought if I found myself in this situation, I would tell the guy to hit the bricks. Immediately. But was that the best thing for my children? I didn’t know.

I handled the paperwork for a divorce I didn’t want.

I was terrified. I’d been a stay at home mom for four years. I had a 3-year-old and an 8-year-old. What was the best thing to do?

In the end, I decided I had to do whatever I could to make sure I could take care of the kids. It meant getting the best- but not unfair- financial settlement I could. It meant not wasting money on unnecessary court costs or tying up my husband in emotional knots.

It meant facilitating the divorce so that my husband could be with another woman. Yeah. That hurt.

I did it. I handled the paperwork for a divorce I didn’t want. I was polite and helpful.

When I finally met the woman at a daycare function, I actually gave her job-hunting tips. That last one, I overdid it. I was always an overachiever.

My therapist worried that I wasn’t crying in my sessions.

I didn’t take care of myself much during that time. I had too much to handle, too much to try and make work for my kids. My therapist worried that I wasn’t crying in my sessions.

“What would that get me? I can cry at home. When I’m here, I need to accomplish things. I need to plan and make decisions.” I responded.

She nodded her head slowly. She understood me but obviously didn’t agree. I didn’t have time to argue about it. Those sessions were costing money.

In the end, I learned I was exactly who I thought I was. I was the mom who put her children first.