It is 4:03 on Friday morning, and I had another dream that my husband is divorcing me. I am not insecure in my marriage; it’s only when I’m pregnant that I have these serial abandonment dreams. This one was a continuation of the last one, so it just got worse. This time I asked my family “there must be another woman, I mean, right?” And they, seeing that he was serious about apparently never speaking to me again, began to think it wasn’t really my fault, but of course this dream was horrible, because I was sure it was.
I think this pregnancy it’s worse. Before I would dream that he had died in a horrible car accident, the kind of waking nightmare you have when your husband is twenty minutes late coming home from work and you’re stirring dinner on the stove and the kids are wild in the background and you wonder how you’d ever cope since he’s surely dead on the highway because he isn’t answering his phone and he hasn’t called to explain that he just had to finish that one application before he could leave his desk.
This time it’s always divorce, and it’s always much worse, and I wake up feeling so sick at heart. I feel, in fact, just like I felt in March two years ago when my mom called me before church and told me that Marcy’s husband had left her. Then, nothing we could say was any comfort. We all agreed it would’ve been easier if he had died, loving her.
Now, my sister is getting married this summer. She is different: stronger, not emotionally insecure. She’s not a doormat anymore, she can tell a guy to take a hike if he isn’t good enough for her, if he doesn’t love her and respect her as she now knows she deserves.
Her fiance is a very nice man. He’s divorced, also, with three kids, also, and they have lots of other things in common, including exes who make very nice villains of their separate pieces. I have seen him with Marcy’s kids, and he is as good with Marcy’s kids as my husband is with ours, or almost; some of that just takes time. He and Marcy are more alike in the ways that matter than she and her first husband were. I think, in general, that they will have a good marriage, if anyone wanted my opinion on it.
At Thanksgiving (the first time I met him and his kids) Marcy told me she had given him one of my posts to read (the one about how blended families can be beautiful), and she said she liked my most recent post (the one about the snowy day), because it had my usual blend of frustration with motherhood ending in acceptance and [joy].
And then she said that her fiance (who is the residential parent) used his wife’s blog against her in the custody hearings. I quickly joked that Dick wouldn’t ever have to do that — he knows if he ever left, I wouldn’t dream of fighting him for custody.
But I can’t forget that conversation, at 4:18 in the morning when I’ve woken with the copper residue of fear in my mouth and the tearful certainty that in reality my husband would never, ever leave me, and more, if he ever did, that he would never take these words of mine, these words that I have labored so strenuously to deliver, honestly, onto the page.
Because there have been times when I resent my children, when I resent motherhood, when I think what could have been if I’d pursued my other dreams instead. And if I thought my husband, my Tom, who in our first year of marriage, ever since that tender beginning, labored beside me our final year of college, when we holed up, side-by-side, stopping only to eat and drink and talk, once in a while, to share the questions and answers we were so elegantly, passionately weaving into our papers and essays, if he were to belittle and demean the offerings of my heart, however so pitiful and inadequate they are once sprung from my short fingers, I would never be able to forgive him. I would know, finally, that he didn’t understand, that he never would, never had, never wanted to, and how could you ever stay married to someone like that?
Of course divorce is always betrayal, and it’s a better betrayal than the betrayal of self or of the children one swears on one’s life to love and protect, and the question of who betrayed whom first is one that only God and the families of the first-betrayed really care about anymore. And sometimes it is a betrayal forced though the first-betrayed would have forgiven anything if only the betrayer would reconsider.
I remember thinking, right before Tom and I were married, that marriage wouldn’t be such a significant, and potentially joy-giving institution, if it weren’t also such an unfathomable risk. The more of yourself you commit, the more you stand to lose if you are betrayed; if you commit less, there is less to be betrayed, but also much less to make the marriage worth desiring. Total giving of self, of merging of dreams and hopes and plans and subduing of extraneous, give-up-able wants, is vulnerability defined, and also the only hope for making a marriage so good, so life-sustaining, that the thought of losing it, fueled by raging fetus hormones, is enough to make one wish it were morning and no longer night.
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I know this wasn’t the point of this post, but I’m still completely stuck on the part about your sister’s fiance using his ex-wife’s blog against her in the custody battle.
Obviously I don’t know what she wrote, but unless it was detailing how she mentally or physically abused them, or confirmed that she was drug addict or alcoholic, it infuriates me that it could be held against her.
It’s mainly the judge that I’m infuriated with. While I don’t agree with the fiance’s tactic, I can at least understand how a desperate parent might use whatever ammunition they have to keep their children. But for a judge to use it bothers me. What parent, if they were being honest, has never wished even for a moment that they’d never had children, or have resented their children, or have simply come to the end of their rope for that hour?
It scares the bejeebers out of me that a blog post written with complete honesty about a moment in time as a parent could later be used to take your children away.
Jane Reply:
February 5th, 2010 at 9:47 am
Yes, me too.
Apparently judges like blogs even better than personal correspondence bec. they are public, published, in the public domain or something. But it does make me wonder if these judges have children of their own, or if they have no idea what parenting is like. We worry that juries are our “peers” but a wealthy bachelor judge might have a hard time being empathetic to a frazzled stay-at-home mom. (speaking of myself, not of anyone else).
Dang. You are an AWESOME writer. I love your honesty and reflections.
I also agree with Brandi’s comment.
Actually as I started reading your post I thought, I wonder if her nightmares are of betrayal this time because Marcy was betrayed AND perhaps Marcy is on her mind since she’s now getting remarried. (she’s on my mind, and I’m deliriously happy for her)
Anyhow, I can’t get over how it’s five in the morning here, I’m sitting at my computer because I have to pump brea.stmilk for the twins and I come across a brand-new post SO WELL WRITTEN from someone else who just woke up. Dang. I aspire to such greatness.
Jane Reply:
February 5th, 2010 at 9:47 am
Thanks, Nikki, you’re too kind. And look at you providing that breastmilk for your twins! Early in the morning! You go, girl!
My comments pale in comparison to your talent as a writer so I’ll simply say “beautiful” once again!
Marcy here. It IS a scary thought–what people can bring up and what is damning in court. Here are some of the facts about my fiance’s custody battle. When his ex left their home, she wrote him a letter detailing that he would have the kids every night of the week except one (this letter was also used in court). That’s right; a mother who had given birth, nursed, and raised three children wanted to be with them only one night a week. It may have been when she realized that she would owe HIM child support that she changed her mind and used any means to get custody of the children. As it stands now, she owes him $4 a month in child support.
My fiance’s ex filed a document with the court—all lies—accusing him of being abusive and neglectful. In reality, he is such a kind father–a gentler parent than I am. To combat her horrible allegations and win majority custody, my fiance copied a blog post of hers in which she said that she resented her children and wished she hadn’t had them, and said they were interfering with the life she really wanted (I believe that’s an accurate summary. I’ve actually never read the blog post; maybe I will ask to see it tonight).
Divorce sucks in every way possible–except that I get another chance now with a man who values the same things that I do, as far as I can tell. The worst part of divorce is that it makes enemies of people who used to love each other deeply. Not that I hate my ex, but I know that he could start a battle in court at any time with me and we would be on opposing sides. And it would most likely be about the children that I bore, nursed, raised and desire to be with and love and teach–even when they’re pains in the neck! I know that I do have to be careful about what I write on my blog–especially now. It sucks, but maybe it helps me look for the silver lining in the frustrating mommy times–I try to write on my blog in a way that I wouldn’t also hurt my children to read later. They will know that parenthood is hard, but hopefully they will always know that I love them and want them.
Jane Reply:
February 5th, 2010 at 10:29 am
(thanks for added details, though as long as you are satisfied, it’s not for me to — well, it is still for me to worry, I guess. I’ll always be your big sister.)
I have gotten several comments from long-time friends about the “private” things I share on my blog, and how my husband is so long-suffering to “let” me write what I do. And each time someone who I thought knew me well (knew Tom and I well) says this kind of thing, I’m frankly flabbergasted. Perhaps it’s hard for someone who isn’t married to a fellow writer (this is, after all, how Tom and I met, in a writing class) to realize how important it is for me to attempt to express myself and how damaging it would be to Tom’s and my relationship if we were to try to muzzle each other. I would feel absolutely stifled, as if my thoughts were worthless to him, and I could not survive that.
Your point about wanting your kids to be able to read your blog without feeling unwanted is a good one. I feel confident that if/when my kids read mine, they will feel my love.
Marcy Reply:
February 5th, 2010 at 10:35 am
I am confident your kids would feel that from your posts too. I really enjoy your motherhood writing–it says, “Raising you is a challenge, but such a worthwhile one and I am grateful to be your mom.” At least that’s what it says to me–only said in a much more poetic way.
I wanted to add something meaningful about parenting and such but I got nothing’, plus it looks like the topic’s already been discussed. I bet you dream of abandonment cause of Marcy. I have been dreaming of poop getting on everything. Maybe because I actually did get peed on the other day, maybe because I secrety fear poo. Who knows?
There are people who believe you can solve problems in your sleep and direct your dreams by thinking about what you should know about the problem and things you could do before you go to sleep. Because you are pretty sure these divorce/abandonment dreams are due to pregnancy-related hormonal changes, they’ll go away after you have the baby.
Coaching yourself to change your mindset before you go to sleep might help you wake up in a better mood in the morning. Tell yourself that Tom wants a boy, and he won’t divorce you until you have the baby and find out whether it’s a boy or girl, so you can just relax and go back to sleep. Nothing will change until then, and when the pregnancy is over, the bad dreams will be, too.
Just stopping by from Sue’s linky.
You really are a fantastic writer. I’m pregnant now, too, and while my dreams are more vivid, they are never traumatic. My husband, on the other hand, always has traumatic dreams. Every night he has at least one life-like dream that I’ve left him. Hate him. Cheated on him. It takes him a good 10 minutes to adjust to reality when he wakes. It’s gotta be frustrating when you wake up horrified and exhausted every morning.
Looking forward to meeting you!
I often think about how vulnerable marriage can be, especially when I see people completely blindsided by divorce or terrible secrets their spouse have kept. I wonder how one sorts through the happy memories they’ve had and separate the terrible pain after wards from those memories.
Also, my husband and I had an interesting conversation after I read this about the use of blogging in court cases (apparently he had recently read a story on a doctor’s anonymous blog talking about his feelings over being sued that was discovered and cost him the case). We both feel that if it is definitive proof of lying or mental instability it should be used. If it is every day struggle or self evaluation it shouldn’t make a difference (and it is pathetic if it does). And we also had a nice discussion about tort reform, which is unfortunately one of out favorite subjects.
I can’t gather my thoughts coherently enough to express them in a comment, but I loved this post.
“…if he were to belittle and demean the offerings of my heart, however so pitiful and inadequate they are once sprung from my short fingers, I would never be able to forgive him.” You sounded positively Jane Austenish here.
“…marriage wouldn’t be such a significant, and potentially joy-giving institution, if it weren’t also such an unfathomable risk. The more of yourself you commit, the more you stand to lose if you are betrayed; if you commit less, there is less to be betrayed, but also much less to make the marriage worth desiring.”
So many wonderful passages in this post.
Jane, Your writing is always so vivid. I second the poster who commented about the dreams going away after pregnancy, but then I told you recently about my nightmares while pregnant. Maybe try praying before bed cataloging the joy of your marriage and looking forward to your new little one. I never tried it, but just thinking something different might help.
Steff
I have so many things to say about this post, but I mainly want to say that I hate pregnancy dreams and hope they stop for you. I still have nightmares ABOUT the nightmares I had while pregnant. Shuddering…
I much prefer the pregnant sex dreams. Even though they might have been with my neighbor and/or pastor…
this reminds me of just why you are my favorite blogger
Oh man, I have SO had these kinds of dreams when pregnant. And sometimes when not. My biggest fear in my dreams is always that Eldon isn’t really who he seems to be. And I can also relate to the late from work and you can’t reach them and you’re in tears because you know they’re dead and you also know you can’t live without them and then they walk in the door and you hug them extra tight before reverting back to regular crazy life.
By the way, met your man the other day when he brought the girls. I was like “Hi, it’s nice to meet you Dick.” I got no response so then I’m like “uh….sorry, I was just kidding. That’s just how I first knew you.” I got a little mumbled hello and he was out of here. LOL
I kept forgetting to tell you about it, it was funny and I felt seriously dumb. Oh, well.
See you tomorrow!
[...] would probably feel guilty if a) I had not suffered through several abandonment dreams and b) I had not been rudely awakened about three-fourths of the way in. Instead, I feel just a [...]