Chapter Twenty One: Coming Home

My heart thumped wildly in my chest as I drove onto post, following all the signs to lead me to parking for the welcome home ceremony.  I fumbled excitedly with Dorian and the diaper bag as we climbed onto the bus that would take us to the hanger we would wait to meet our soldiers in.  After surviving a year of pregnancy and raising a child on my own, it seemed unreal I would finally have the dream and wish I had been praying for every night.  I was so excited to have Josh back and although I knew it would be hard and difficult to adjust, I had wanted this moment from the very second I had to say goodbye.  I was so proud of myself and my motherhood and was so excited to have Josh see me in my element and new role as I felt I had blossomed into the very thing I was always meant to be.  I was excited in turn, to watch Josh become a father and could never put to t=words the beautiful emotions in my heart that filled me to completeness when I thought of finally being parents together and really starting and catering to this new family we had. 

The short bus ride was over before I realized and people just as excited as I was, scrambled from the bus and into the hanger where we sat and waited on bleachers in horrid anticipations, knowing minutes were left before we would finally be reunited with those who meant the most to us.  I had been nervous about how Dorian would do while we waited, but this bright eyed child cooed and played until he napped snuggly against my chest, both of us waiting, always waiting it seemed to finally have what our hearts desired.   My mind raced over the year I lived on my own, it raced to images of our wedding and all the love I held for this man who I was blessed to call my husband.  My mind raced images and fantasies of what I wanted our little family to be like and how great and good things would be now that we would finally all be together.  I was nervous. I was elated.  I was every emotion imaginable as a year’s worth of experiences were balled up within me and I wanted to do was share everything I was with the man I married.   Music from a band played noisily in the background as I watched other families around me trying to pass the time.  It was a joy to see the anticipation, love and excitement in the eyes of everyone.  Even though I did not know any of the couple hundred people gathered, we all had something in common and I felt safe, and calm, and a part of this mass as it was obvious everyone held the same pride, esteem and love in their hearts the way I did.

When we were informed the plane was scheduled to touch down in fifteen minutes, there was a flocking to the bay doors that were opened as we waited in the gated area to watch the plane land and our soldiers exit the plane.  I bounced Dorian excitedly in anticipation, telling him daddy was finally coming home.  I took a couple of selfies of me and my son, thinking that from here on out it was no longer just the two of us and my heart swelled into my throat as shouts of a plane in the distance were heard.  I felt as high as that plane in the sky and I knew the moment was finally here.  No longer would I try and remember what his touch and kiss felt like.  No longer would I call his cell phone, just to listen to his recording to hear his voice.  No longer would I cry myself to sleep over a hard day, feeling so destitute and alone.  No longer would I have to wake up alone, making every important decision in my son’s life.  From here on out, I would no longer be alone.  I would finally have Josh, the wonderful man I married by my side, leading and providing for us as we worked as a team in raising a family.

We all watched as the plane landed and pulled up in front of us.  There were tears and shouting and then full out applause as the door of the plane was opened and our men and women of the 101^st Airborn unit began making their way off the plane.  People would run to the gate and wave, shouting the name of their loved one, but we were still too far away, but still we cheered and waved at our soldiers.  Then, I saw him.  After six months, I finally saw his face, decked in uniform, carrying his weapon he made his way down the stairs and across the tarmac to get in formation.  My heart was beating so fast, I feared it might alarm Dorian, who was still waiting patiently in the carrier I wore him in.  I think Dorian instead was feeling all the love and excitement I was exuding as he was happy and cheerful himself.  We were guided back into the hanger and again sat on the benches for another period of waiting while the soldiers got in formations in preparation for the ceremony.  Although I was incredibly proud of Josh and all he had done, I thought the idea of the ceremony was ridiculous and was only verified if the fact when it began.  The bay doors were opened once again and the solders marched into the hanger in unison, keeping formation.  Standing at attention we saw our loved ones, but were not allowed to touch or approach them as two or three people spoke on the things they achieved and endured during their time of deployment.  Prayers were said for those who lost their lives and then a closing prayer said.  Then there was a mad rush of every person on the bleachers to those waiting in formation on the floor.  I was blessed to have spotted Josh as soon as the ceremony began and like everyone else, made a mad dash for him as soon as we were allowed.  Squeezing in-between others who were already reuniting I maneuvered my way with Dorian into the arms of my husband.

I felt as if time and the world finally stopped as his arms wrapped around me and our son.  No more counting.  No more waiting.  This is what it was all about.  This is what my life was for: my husband and my son. Josh pulled back from the hug and took Dorian into his arms and held him for the first time in six months.  He looked his son over and smiled from ear to ear.  He placed Dorian on the ground, to see just how tall his son was, only to scoop him back up and hold him again, while extending an arm for me to cuddle into.  Then I finally felt his lips on mine.  Fire surged through me and I felt like a princess, being woken up from a long slumber.  My entire body tingled with electricity and once again I felt whole.  I felt like this was the way I should always feel.  My heart was so full that all the lonely nights seemed almost worth it, if only for this second.  We took a couple of pictures and the fifteen minutes we had passed like a blur.  Before we knew it, the soldiers were getting back in formation to return to their units for a couple of hours to turn in and account for all their gear.  The only thing that made this bearable was that I needed to get Dorian down for a nap.  So I kissed my husband goodbye and headed home.  I out all the pictures I had just taken on facebook and was just getting Dorian up from his nap when Josh called to let me know he was ready to be picked up.  Finally.  Finally my husband would be HOME!

After picking Josh up, I counted every blessing as he was finally there to talk to Dorian while I drove.  He was there to hold my hand.  The sound of his voice, tinkled through me.  My elation slowly built and was excited for Josh to see the banner I had displayed in his honor.  He grinned and thanked me, but what really touched me to the very soul, was when he picked up his dusty, worn bag and carried into our apartment.  It sounds silly, but it was physical proof he was here to stay.

Dorian was only a couple of days away from being six months old, which meant it was time to start introducing solid foods.  Since Josh had missed pretty much all of Dorian’s firsts, this is one I had been saving for him to experience with his son.  It happened to work out that as soon as we got home, Dorian let us know he was hungry.  My excitement hit an all new high as I grabbed the bouncer and started making up baby cereal.  I was thrilled that Dorian was reaching a new stage in his life and that finally, Josh was here to be a part of it.  I grabbed the camera and took picture after picture of Josh and Dorian as he dribbled, smeared and enjoyed the new food he was being offered.  My heart swelled and was full.  The moment and experience was as perfect as I had imagined it.  Josh cooed and talked to Dorian and Dorian cooed and ate in return.  After Dorian was cleaned up Josh played with Dorian on the floor and again every minute of his separation seemed worth it as long as we had the blessings of moment like this with one another. 

Once we got Dorian down for a nap Josh and I sat and talked, although I don’t remember anything that was said.  Really the whole purpose was to soak each other up.  It was paradise to once again look into Josh’s  blue, green eyes and feel his arms around me.  For the first time in a year, I felt safe.  I felt protected.  I felt whole.   Finally being together was as if it were all new again as I experienced butterflies deep in my stomach and chills that raced through my entire body as his lips touched mine.   I was so full of love, and so excited to have my husband home to share that love with as we could now raise our son together as a unit.  After a very difficult year, life pretty much seemed perfect and naively I believed it was perfect and always would be perfect because once again we had each other and we could finally be what we always wanted to be: A family.

Encounter

For most of the last month and a half Josh and I have fallen into a sort of unspoken agreement where we only speak to each other in terms of the children, and everything else is left unsaid.  we avoid each other and on the nights he shows up to be with the kids for a couple hours, I usually go out or avoid him, giving myself a break and him the one on one time with the kids that they so desperately want and need.  Tonight we had items of "business" we needed to discuss and when done I felt the need to ask him some questions.  Questions I have already asked.  However, I felt they were things I needed to hear again as I begin to look toward the end of our marriage.  I no longer desire for him to touch or hold me.  I no longer desire his love or need an admittance of guilt or apologies.  I need the truth so I can reassess the last nine years of my life as I am preparing to let it go. 
I asked when he no longer felt love towards me.  He told me it was a couple of months after he returned home from his deployment, with the explanation that due to his own choices, he felt he had to maintain a certain façade at home, that while on his own for the year deployment, he felt like he could be himself in ways he wasn't able to be at home.  I made it clear to him that had I known his "true" self, I would have been disappointed as I would still feel I was not getting a lot of the promises he made me when married and it would have been a struggle, but that I wouldn't have loved him less, or given up on our love.  I reminded him that I met and fell in love with him before he decided to clean up his life and I had never predicated or expected the love I had for him to be dependent on his religion or life choices.  I loved him, for him.  Ironically it was the opposite for him though.  He admitted that when he came back things that "turned him off to me" was my new role as mother and my deep religious beliefs and convictions, in other words the two things that are the very core of me and who make me what I am, are the things that made him love me less.
I explained to Josh how I no longer loved or desired him, but that the man I man I married, that man, I would always love.  I explained how in my eyes I felt he died and was replaced with the Josh I now know.  I told him how hard it has been to have his face always there as a constant reminder of the loss of the man I married, the man I loved, who died and I don't even know when he died.  Josh thought about this for a while and we both came to the same time frame.  After only a year and a half of our marriage, the man I married died and turned into something else through selfishness and vices and the chains of the devil, completely altering the very being of whom I used to know so intimately. 
I asked why he stayed with me for so long and willingly attempted having children with me when he did not love me.  He said he never intended to leave.  He had planned on staying in a loveless marriage to uphold the promises he made me, although he did not love or respect me.  I cried. I told him I never wanted to be with someone who did not love me and how I wish he could have been honest with me.  I then apologized for all the years I fought to maintain and fix our marriage and told him it was only because I was searching for that man I lost so many years ago. Then Josh cried.  I asked him why he was emotional and he responded that he felt he was a different man just as I described and cried for the loss of that man as well.  I gave him a hug and thanked him for talking with me as it helps me move on.  He walked away with tears in his eyes and what looked to be a troubled heart.  I am sad, so very sad as I will always be for the loss of the man I married. I am sad for the hurt and the deception, but my heart is not heavy as I am nothing but thankful that this finally has ended. oh how many more years it could have carried on.  I am thankful for the opportunity to have loved such a great man before he disappeared.  I know what love is from that brief one and a half years or true bliss.  I am thankful for my two children and I am thankful for the opportunity to have a new start and hopefully find someone who is worthy of my love and just as devoted and loyal to the Lord and to me as I am.

Day

I almost had to take Amellia to the ER today.  since she woke up, until 2:00 PM Amellia was vomiting consistently.  She couldn't even keep water down and the poor thing was constantly throwing up the bile in her stomach.  It has been a while since I have been that scared.  She was white as a sheet, and would only allow me to hold her for hours on end as she napped and cried and vomited all over my shoulder. I began calling her pediatrician noon, knowing she was not getting any liquids, meaning she was getting dehydrated.  I tried it all, until finally at 1:30 she began sipping water and was able to keep it down. Her pediatrician called back at three and agreed I had done things right and if she returned to her prior state then I would need to take her into the ER to get fluids. It has been a horribly long, exhausting day.  I have given all my strength and emotion to take care of Amellia and as I mentioned, I was terrified.  I have never before seen my little girl sick like this before.
Trying to be a responsible parent, I made sure to call and text Josh, keeping him updated on everything that was going on.  Enraged and devastated are words that don't even cover the extent of the emotions I felt as I got little texts like I am so sorry or comments like, "well I wish I could watch Dorian so you could take her to the hospital, but the roads are getting worse by the minute and I need to head home."
Remember how enraged he was when I made the comment that he walked away from his children when he left our family for his mistress and her child?  How then can this be justified as anything but walking away?  I literally held my daughter for seven hours straight today. calming, soothing, bathing, loving her and where was he?  Did he even so much as show up to check on his terribly sick 15 month old daughter? NO!
So here is my point.  The truth hurts.  If you are going to make the actions, you can at least have the respect to label it as it is.  Today, once again, you put yourself and your priorities as more important than your 15 mo. old daughter's needs.  You walked away five months ago and you still choose to walk away on almost a daily basis. *end rant*
sorry for that, but today was a a day from hell and I needed to get it out of my heart.

Portrait

Evening star, captured
twinkling as I catch her gaze.
Autumn her reddened lips,
A breeze, when she whispers.
A rose, that quietly blooms-
wildfire on her cheeks.
A summer moon, round and pale,
     frames the heaven and earth that is her face.

SICK!!

so me and the children have been sick for the last THREE weeks, and no, that is not an exaggeration.  then with all the recovery, I have only been to the gym a handful of times the entire month of January and I am feeling it!  I am grumpier, I feel worse about myself and overall I just feel like poo.  However, despite my lack of gym time, I have been diligent about working on all of my goals and making progress.  So despite feeling like poo, I am still advancing, even if just an inch at a time.  I have also had the great pleasure of sharing the gospel of my church with a friend who is looking to join the church now and there is nothing as fulfilling as that.
So in short (and I know this is short as I still feel like poo) today was Sunday, so I dressed in my Sunday best for church.  Despite feeling the way I do and the horrible lack of gym time, I received a staggering amount of compliments at church today which touched my heart and reminded myself not to be so hard on how I view myself. 
Pics of my Sunday best...getting everything in order to rock the dating world when the divorce is final!!!

Chapter 20: Mommy 101

I wish I could say mothering came naturally and that everything fell into place, but it did not.  I cried every time my sweet little baby boy went to eat because the pain of it was almost more than I could bear.  I tried to be patient and fight through it, but when he would break his latch and I would be bleeding and chapped, I knew I needed help.  Josh lovingly persuaded me I was not failing if we supplemented and that this was for both my benefit and our sons.  I agreed.  I felt relieved and guilty when my husband fed our son, but also saw the beauty in this moment, this experience.  In just a week, Josh would have to return to his deployment in Afghanistan and he needed every moment possible to bond with his son.  My full tender breasts ached, but my heart was calmed as the two men in my life looked each other in the eye.  There was no doubting Josh loved the little man he carried around and cuddled and the light in his eyes shone so bright with pride as he took easily to the duties I struggled with. 

Josh always jumped up whenever Dorian began his little newborn whimper, talking and singing to him as he changed his diaper and fed him.  I on the other hand slowly pulled myself in and out of bed as I recovered from the c-section and cried as I breastfed on my sore tender breasts.  When Dorian cried I would go through the list: diaper, feeding, comfort, etc but felt like a failure when for years I had been told each had their own cry and every little peep sounded the same to me. I hurt. I was exhausted and I was terrified of Josh leaving me in just a matter of days.  In only a couple days, I would be the only thing this sweet precious little baby had and I already felt like I was failing him.  Josh assured me he felt just as lost, but in my eyes he seemed to know exactly what he was doing and I just didn’t know how I was supposed to be a single parent when all I had ever wanted was all three of us together, forever. 

Josh was supportive and attentive as I healed and took every moment he could holding the child we fought so hard and so long for.  Life was as close to perfect as I could imagine when the three of us would lie in bed against one another.  This was the dream I had so long wished for, but I knew I was about to wake up as each and every hour spent together, was also a countdown until Josh boarded the plane that would take him away from us for the next six months.  

I breastfed when I could and slept when I could; other than that, our entire existence was this sweet little boy.  I began feeling more comfortable with diapers, feeding and outings.  I no longer was terrified of hurting my small precious baby when I changed his clothes or moved him around and slowly with each minute the word mom started to sink in.  When it finally came time to take Josh to the airport I was still terrified, but no longer lost.  My heart heaved itself open knowing I would once again have to separate from the person I loved with all my heart.  I felt like I was losing my family and after the close call josh had already had, I felt like I was never going to see him again.  I cried and kissed him in the airport, devastated to be torn apart yet again.  Clinging to him with my arms around his neck I promised pictures and videos and begged him to try and call more; and then he left us standing there, going up the escalators he had bound down to greet me just two weeks before.  Dorian was 10 days old.

I was blessed to have my mom once again join me so that even on the day Josh departed, I wasn’t truly alone, although I did feel it as my baby continued to cry hysterically after every feeding.  I still felt like I was failing.  I tried breast milk, and three different types of formula thinking maybe he was allergic to something, maybe he just wasn’t getting enough, maybe I wasn’t burping him enough.  The list of possibilities was endless. Cry as he did, Dorian was still a good baby.  He slept well and easily and even at an early age was a face full of smiles.  Every moment I was awake, was for and because of him.  I felt this new sense of empowerment that took hold as I held this little miracle in my arms.  I felt like I finally had received my calling in life and that the three years of brutal infertility was all meant to lead up to this sweet precious gift.  The title mom still threw me for a loop and didn’t seem real, but the baby in my arms was the most real thing I had ever felt or experienced and I knew there was nothing I would not do for this child.

Mom talked me into traveling home with her for a couple of months while I continued to adjust to being a “single mom.”  Now I didn’t really like using this term as I knew in fact, I was not a single mother.  I had a husband who loved me and whom I loved very much and had the blessing of his paycheck to support me and our child, but I was raising our child on my own along with the continual stressors of my husband’s safety.  So I never claimed to be a single mom, but certainly felt the title as I cried myself asleep at night from exhaustion and loneliness.

While I lived with my parents I quickly learned that life pre-child was very different than life with child.  I leaned what a burden it was to get out the door, all the while trying to carry half your household with you when going anywhere for fear you might need it.  I began distinguishing the different cries and became more and more concerned as it was obvious Dorian was experiencing pain every time he ate.  Every diaper was a blow out and liquid.  I went off all dairy and gluten.  Every time I had taken him in for a well baby and mentioned it, it was always brushed aside as reflux.  However, when Dorian’s eczema broke out all over his face and scalp, I knew there was more to it.  As I suffer from eczema as well, I knew his flare up was due to an allergy and took him in yet again to the doctor, demanding my fears be heard this time.  The doctor once again brought up reflux and put him on medication, but after over a week without improvement I took him in yet again.  I was then prescribed, a very expensive, predigested formula.  After three months of my poor baby screaming every time he ate, we finally figured out he had a protein allergy and was just unable to break down the proteins in certain foods.  Dorian turned into a whole new baby now that he no longer had to writhe in pain.  I no longer slept sitting up with him on my lap, bouncing for hours, just so he could get a couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep.  I no longer sang myself hoarse cradling him, bouncing him trying to distract him from the pain.  I no longer had to buy four or five formulas, trying them all, while still pumping to keep my breast milk up, just in case I could breast feed.  I never realized how rough it had really been until he no longer had to experience the pain.  Again, I felt as if I had failed him those first three months as I should have known for sure something was wrong, or pushed the doctors more than I had earlier on, but in the end my son and I bonded over the difficulty and it was proof there was nothing for this child I would not do.

Unfortunately, Dorian couldn’t digest my breast milk and after only feeding him off and on for three months, I slowly began to dry up.  I was sad and disappointed that it was not an experience I really was able to take part in as it had always been something I wanted with all of my heart.  I did, however, see the benefits of it as my son blossomed into a cooing, explorative little baby.

Soon after Dorian’s allergy was diagnosed, I felt the need to return home to Tennessee.  Although being on my own still scared me, I had a new confidence and looked forward to setting up house and schedule as now there were only three months left until Josh returned home.  I sent packages almost weekly with Dorian’s foot prints all over them.  Filling them up with snacks and treats I knew he would enjoy.  I tried my best to give him all the comforts from home I could send him, including pictures and videos, but we were both very aware he was missing it all.  I still only heard from Josh once a week or every couple of days, making the waiting period stretch out as I counted the days between each call.  It took all my strength to just make it through Christmas, as this was the very first Christmas with our son and my husband and Dorian’s father was on the front lines of a war zone.  Josh stayed focused though, as that is how he said he kept from missing us, but it was obvious there was a huge disconnect as I now had the new role of mother and Josh had the role of soldier.  He admitted the guilt he felt because he loved his son with all of his heart, but the pictures and videos were just a reminder to him that he didn’t know the baby I held in my arms.

I on the other hand, knew everything there was to know about Dorian and embraced my role and my motherhood.  With this new confidence I decided I was ready to make the two day car drive back to Tennessee, felling confident I could make the long distance trip on my own with a three month old.  Only twenty miles into the long road trip did I realize how grossly over confidant I had been.  Sadly, at only three months old, Dorian had already hit the separation anxiety stage, meaning when he couldn’t see me, he cried and screamed.  We stopped often, fed often and I sang and played music, talking to him the whole time, trying my best to reassure him I was still there, but it was a long two days as I learned what it was to stop at McDonalds just to get warm water for bottles or making twenty trips to my car once I reached the hotel as I had luggage in one hand and a baby in the other.  We accomplished and survived it though and as difficult as it was, I took pride in myself for all that I had grown and accomplished.  I wished, as always, with all my heart that Josh could be there with us, but I was learning I could do this on my own and I felt I was doing a pretty good job of it as well.  I sometimes looked back at the fear I had when I first became a mother and realized motherhood doesn’t come naturally as people imply.  I comes with work and time and is something you grow into and I made sure every day I felt I had grown into just a little more.

Once back home, I was surprised at how easily life became.  Being at home with the baby all day felt natural and although tired, I was more fulfilled than I had ever felt before.  I reveled in every new action or sound Dorian made and began dieting and losing weight to feel better about myself and hopefully surprise my husband with when he returned home.  I was edified, happy, and every day more in love with my child.  We played on the floor for hours, and often took trips to local stores to walk around.  I met a new friend and we began walking on a regular basis. Everything in my life was good, except for the fact that my husband was not there to share it with me.

It was about this time that the Family Readiness Group (FRG) began mandatory meetings on what to expect when our soldiers returned home.  They stressed over and over again the importance of reintegration and how difficult it would be for our spouses to enter into society again.  They touched on the needed space and time we needed to give them as they learned essentially how to be civilians when not at work.  They then went on to share all the horrors of war and the side effects that affected many men and women who dealt with the things our spouses had.  They gave signs and symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and depression and all the things we would want to keep an eye out for.  They promised support and help, and even though the topic was scary, there seemed to be a lot of hope.   There was always a tiny fear and voice in the back of my mind that since Josh had been wounded he might struggle with this, but I pushed it away, only wanted back the man I married.  Anything that could or would come up, we could deal with it.  We loved each other, right?

The closer Josh’s arrival home became, the slower time crept by and finally I received the automated call I had been waiting a year for: I finally knew when my soldier would be coming home.  Like any proud Army wife, I went above and beyond for the homecoming.  I even had a special shirt made for Dorian to wear that said, “Move out of my way, I am here to pick up my daddy.” I bought a large banner and attached it to our balcony, expressing the love and pride we had for our hero.  I dressed up in a new outfit that I felt sexy in, showing off the twenty five pounds I had lost.  I was nothing short of giddy as I waited in anticipation for our family to finally be reunited.  After nearly two years of being apart due to basic, AIT, and deployment, I was finally getting my husband back and Dorian was finally going to see what life with a dad was like.

I did have fears about Josh having to jump into being a dad to a six month old baby and was even a little concerned about how Dorian would accept his father as all he knew was me.  I knew with time, love and patience though, all would finally be right and nothing in the world could knock the smile off my face as the days turned into hours.

Flower petal, dry and crusted
Beauty yet remains.
A scent remembered
A velvet touch
Rehearsed in the dry curl
Deep, dark, burgundy,
intoxicating wine.
A memory held
A trinket now, folded
away in words.