Chapter
Twenty Six: Counseling
A friend informed me that a group
of women from church got together with a member who was a psychologist once a
month to talk and discuss things in order to reestablish peace and balance in
their lives. Although it wasn’t group
therapy, it was set up in a similar fashion.
Feeling as if my life was completely out of my control, I decided to
start attending these sessions. It was a
nice opportunity to give me time to myself, away from home, as I worked on myself
through introspection and personality tests.
Very soon after meeting and talking with the psychologist I began sharing
with her my fears I had about Josh and how I really believed he had PTSD and
most likely bipolar as it ran in his family; not withstanding he exhibited a
lot of the signs for both. She agreed to
take him on as a client and worked with me so that we could get him seen off
post as we had already tried that avenue first and were told we would have to
wait close to three months before he could even be seen.
I began to have hope again as I
felt deep inside my heart that if Josh could only get the help he needed to
open up and stop closing off, we could once again have the open, loving
relationship we once had. I knew Josh
was still very against counseling, but he agreed he would attend two sessions
before making a decision. It was so
hard, as it was obvious to me that Josh needed some help in being taught how to
deal with the emotions he was burying inside.
I became aware of how the Josh I knew from our first years of marriage
was getting harder and harder to see and being replaced with a man I did not
understand or respect. It was impossible
to try and communicate this to Josh though as he was always on the defensive
and always so angry. If I even brought
up counseling he would start on a rant about how I thought there was something
wrong with him. How I did not love him
for who he was and how I was trying to change him. I just didn’t know what to do as anytime I
tried to help, I pushed him further away and it was obvious he was unwilling to
help himself, so I had a sigh of relief when Josh began seeing the psychologist
I had befriended.
Due to my miscarriage, when I
called to schedule my first prenatal doctor’s appointment I was brought in at
six weeks rather than ten. A friend willingly watched Dorian as josh and I made
the very nervous car ride to the doctor’s office. There was a heavy silence riding in the car
with us and with a nod to one another we confirmed we were both thinking about
what this appointment had been last time for us, just a short three and half
months prior. Josh drove while my hands
fidgeted with one another on my lap. I
wanted Josh to take my hand in his and tell me it would all be okay, but he was
distant as always and it had grown to the point where I was too nervous to
reach out, as I felt that every time I did, I was somehow rejected. I was at least happy to have his presence as
I wasn’t sure I had the strength or fortitude to withstand the waiting room on
my own. Our wait wasn’t too long before
we were taken back to a room and I was informed to change into the gown provided
me. I put on the floral dressing gown
and crinkled the white paper that covered the table as I sat down upon it. I
looked at a fidgety Josh and whispered I was nervous. The sound of my voice brought his eyes to
mine and he admitted that he was nervous too.
We waited for the doctor in the cold quiet room with only the sound of
the florescent light buzzing above our heads until finally we heard the faint
knock on the door as the doctor walked in.
Reading the look on our faces she started her dialect immediately
validating the fears and concerns she knew we had as the congratulations at
being back. Without wasting any time she
had the ultra sound machine on and searching as she knew all we cared about was
hearing the heartbeat we never heard our last visit. I watched her motionless
face and smiled relief when she smiled at having located the heart beat. She beamed congratulations again as she
turned up the sounds, giving our ears and hearts the sound and relief they had
been waiting for. Our doctor continued
to give us information and still considered me high risk. She suggested that due to my high risk, the
genetic deformation of baby Borland, and the miscarriage that we go and have an
ultra sound and genetic testing done at Vanderbilt Hospital in Nashville. Appointments were set up and although we had
the relief of hearing the heart beat, we knew we still had a ways to go through
the pregnancy before we could rest easy.
Josh and I began marriage
counseling as well as I wanted to put every ounce of effort into my marriage,
but always felt so helpless and hurt as it looked as if Josh was only doing the
bare minimum to appease my constant pleas.
I was a little nervous about counseling, but felt comfortable as we
began. We both outlined our issues and it
was such a nice change of pace to finally feel like I was being heard and that
my emotions were being validated. The
issues of distance, church, trust, and staying in the Army were all brought
up. Once again I had hope, feeling that
if we could work on this core, this foundation, then maybe Josh and I could
repair our crack and build again as we added this new baby, growing inside my
belly, to our family.
The month slowly slipped by, then
another. Nothing really changed or
improved, but I felt I was doing everything in my power to fix what was broken
and accomplish what needed to be done. My doctor’s appointments were regular
and I was a little glad I was high risk as that meant I got an ultra sound at
every appointment. It gave me peace of
mind to see my baby at 6 weeks, 10 weeks, and 14 weeks. My baby was growing healthy and strong inside
me. At the end of May was our Vanderbilt
appointment that I looked forward to and feared. Obviously, as we were already pregnant and
the state our marriage was in, Josh and I weren’t exactly talking about adding
more in the future, but I was scared to death that there might be a genetic
abnormality with the baby I carried or the chance of such hardship in any
future pregnancies. We realized, through
my doctor that there was some concern as Josh had a sister pass from Trisomy 13
and I had an uncle who was down syndrome, which meant there were genetic
abnormalities in both sides of our families. What if we were somehow destined
to repeat the same experience we had with Baby Borland over and over again?
My sister, who lived close, joined
Josh and me at the appointment so that she could watch Dorian while Josh and I
had blood work drawn and as we met with the genetics counselor. The genetics counselor also expressed that
there was a potential for risk and explained all the risks and abnormalities
that could be a possibility. She then
stated that it all depended on the results of this new blood test that could
give us a very accurate answer as to if one or both of us carried this extra
gene that caused these abnormalities.
Unfortunately, we would have to wait for the results. Josh and I hated to wait, but felt better
knowing we would find out if there would be any issues in the future. Josh and I then were taken into the room to
have the ultra sound done. Needless to
say they were very thorough and I felt as If she rubbed the cold stick of the
ultra sound machine over my swollen belly for a full thirty minutes, clicking
her machine, taking pictures and making notes. My back was sore and I waited anxiously for
her to just tell me my baby looked the way it should: strong and healthy and I
waited very impatiently for her to reveal the gender.
Finally, after much tension the
technician smiled and showed us that we were having a baby girl. I was
thrilled, excited, and terrified. I was
so happy to have a girl, but I felt I would be inadequate at raising one as all
I knew were boys. After my struggle at
finding the mom inside of me after Josh had left and it was just me and Dorian,
I struggled until I found out how to be a mom I was comfortable with and was a
little worried I would have to struggle through something similar now that the
gender was different. Awkward flashbacks
of my childhood came to mind as I still felt I never learned how to be a
girl. It seemed like a silly idea as I
was a woman and a mom, but all growing up I had rather play matchbox cars and
action figures with my brother rather than do dance, hair and makeup like my
older sister. I played rough and had all
guy friends as I spent my recess out on the soccer field or playing dodge ball
with the boys. In fact, I was always
treated like a boy by my friends, up until the devastating time in my life
where I began to develop. Girls talked
behind my back about how luckily endowed I was while the boys no longer saw me
as the same and I hated myself and my gender for it.
I had spent so much time crying in
my room as a child, feeling so out of place and only ever felt I had overcome
that when I found the love Josh offered me for being just who I was. How then, could I teach this perfect little
baby girl, how to be a girl? How could I relate to her if she gravitated to all
the things I despised growing up? I
certainly felt fear, but more than that, I felt blessed. Dorian was such a miracle, but to lose a
child and then have an opportunity again, made this child just as much as a
miracle. Despite my issues with Josh, I
was alive and healthy as were my children and I knew that although things were
hard, life could still be good.
Our drive from Nashville back to
Clarksville was pretty quiet. Josh
reassured me he was happy we were having a girl although it didn’t make much
difference in his mind what the gender was.
Even though Josh and I sat side by side in the car, I still felt the
distance between us. I rubbed my belly
and relished the closeness I had with this new little soul; this miraculous and
blessed closeness as I felt everything the little girl inside my felt as she
moved and swayed, reassuring me she was still there.
As Josh and I continued our
marriage counseling, I became more and more confused. I would answer questions asked of me and Josh
would agree. The counselor, Josh and I
would discuss actions that would need to be altered and yet week after week,
word and action never met up. Although
the issue I was hurting over and feeling the most was the relationship he had
developed with his old girlfriend, Tasha, we mostly focused on his military
service and religion. Eventually the counselor picked up on the lack of action
as well and gave me and Josh homework: we were to decide what the non
negotiable things we required were; meaning, the things that were essential in
a relationship as well as in our lives.
We were to make a list of these things we would not negotiate on.
That week I contemplated on my non
negotiable things very thoughtfully as I tried to decided if I could live a
life with someone who no longer believed what I did when it came to
religion. The more I thought on things,
the more I realized exactly what was lacking and what it was I needed. I knew I needed physical intimacy at least
once a month. I already felt so rejected
by him, that the continual rejections physically too while my belly swelled
with childbirth was just more than my self esteem could take. I needed someone to allow me to raise my
children in my religion and respect the views I had without belittling them or
making fun of them as it is an integral part of who I am. I needed someone who treated me as a partner
which meant honesty had to be the foundation.
Simply, my non negotiable were these: trust, intimacy, and religion.
When we met again with the
counselor he wanted to start with Josh’s list of non negotiable. I admit I was disappointed when he listed only
two things: he needed to be accepted as a soldier and as someone who didn’t
believe in God or religion. This very quickly became pointed and aimed at me
saying that I had to just accept and deal with him being military and
completely forsaking all our beliefs. He
made remarks about how this was the new him and I just don’t accept who he is
and in truth, I never really knew who he was because he had never been himself
around me.
His words stabbed and tore at my
heart. All these years I had given him
every ounce of who I was. I showed him
every flaw, every mistake, every talent believing all along that he was doing
the same as we grew our lives together.
Who was this new Josh and what did he do with the man I married? The warm tears on my cheek pulled me back
into the reality that I had to choose.
Could I accept this new Josh? How
could he promise me eternal marriage and eternal devotion to me and our faith
and then just pull it all away from me and expect me to except it when I didn’t
even understand it? What he was asking
was just too much. My mind raced as I
thought out scenarios and possibilities and answered as plainly as I
could. I could accept Josh being a
soldier and doing deployment again if I knew he was holding to our faith and
it’s teachings as it encouraged fidelity, good will, hope, trust and all the
things I desired in my relationship.
However, if he was willing to give up being a soldier and find a job
that kept him at home, we could work on the trust that had been lost and I
would not require him to participate in faith related functions as long as it
did not affect how I raised the children.
I just didn’t see how I could do both; how our relationship could endure
both. I broke down into heaving sobs as
Josh told me that wasn’t good enough. He
wouldn’t negotiate his non negotiables.
The counselor made it clear that he didn’t condone divorce as an option
unless there was no hope of working things out.
However, since we couldn’t agree on the very fundamental parts of
ourselves, he suggested we consider the possibility of divorce.
I continued to cry and break apart
inside as we drove to my friend’s house to pick up Dorian. How had all of this happened? I had always been so in love with Josh; we
had always had what I thought was the perfect relationship. How then were we deciding to divorce? How could Josh make the accusation I didn’t
know who he was when we had now been married for six years? How could he say he has always been a
different person with me and that all this time he had been unhappy? How had I
been so naive; so blind? What was I
going to do? I had a 19 month old son and a baby on the way? How had he changed
so much that he wanted to leave me and all that we had?
My head thundered thoughts and
questions through my being, while my eyes released all the unspoken words
through tears. I felt sorry for
myself. First the deployment, the birth,
the fire, the miscarriage, the cheating and now divorce? How had my life fallen apart, and so
quickly? That night I asked Josh to
sleep on the couch, which he willingly agreed to. Our rift, our split, our chasm that I had
though for so long could be mended, looked like the Grand Canyon as he grabbed
his pillow, walking out of the room and downstairs to the couch. I lie uncomfortably with my body pillow,
bloated and struggling with reflux from the pregnancy wondering how I was
supposed to survive this life. The
person I was supposed to always count on, trust and love just told me he didn’t
want me anymore.
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