Miracle

Ladies (and gents), I need your help.

A friend of mine that I've been friends with since high school has been struggling with fertility issues. Her husband and she want nothing more than to have their own precious bundle of joy to have and hold forever. Of ANYONE I have ever been around in my entire life, these two are probably the most perfect parents a child could ever ask for. In a world of surprise pregnancies and people getting prego to keep other people, these two just flat out DESERVE to have a baby. I honestly couldn't name a couple more deserving.

She has had two miscarriages and one etopic. All resulted in losses. They just started IVF and had to implant three eggs due to some complications. She got a positive test. Then the doctor called and told her that her betas weren't doubling as they should and she probably miscarried...

All of the sudden, when all hope was lost, they called and said WAIT, good news, your beta's went back up! So there is at least one baby in there. I need everyone, young and old, please, pray for my friend Kat. I have never met another woman stronger than her. I, personally, don't think I would have emotionally survived everything she has been through in this quest. Hell, I'm tearing up right now just thinking of her finally getting her takehome baby. So please, when you get a chance, send a prayer to whomever you pray to (ala, buddha, god, goddess, you get the picture) and please pray for her and her husband.

Thank you all.

Stepmom Overdrive

In real news, lol, a VERY good friend of mine wrote this and e-mailed it to me this morning. With her permission, I have posted it below as I honestly think it's too damn good not to share! This is how I feel with my stepdaughter almost all the time and just can't capture in words. Thank you Evenstar. You rock. xoxox.

Stepmom Overdrive

At thirty-seven and a half years old, I wonder about the years I’ve spent raising my two stepchildren, a girl, 14, and a boy, 11, and if it’s been time well-spent or if it’s been wasted years.

From the vantage point of my husband, it’s been time well-spent. My efforts have allowed him to concentrate on his own devices without the guilt of feeling like his children have been neglected of a mother-figure. I do all the mom stuff; the cooking, the cleaning, the nagging. It comes by instinct and I didn’t need any serious direction to get the essentials done. So, he lucked out in that department.

From the vantage point of my mother-in-law, her beloved grandchildren gained a surrogate mother to do the same things listed above. Add in the quotient of genuine love I have for my stepkids and the backbreaking labor I have performed for them, and she was able to rest assured her son and grandkids were receiving the best care I could possibly give them.

From the vantage point of the kids? Well, I guess it depends upon which era of their young lives you look to for an answer. When they were both younger, like, nine and six, they had someone to tend to them, mend their boo boos, fix them food, shuttle them to school and doctor’s appointments, work for their teachers, and basically pay attention to them.

My stepdaughter began to age as children are wont to do, and she started to look for more solidarity with her real mother, a woman who did not seek custody outside of an every other weekend visitation scheme, and my stepdaughter’s discontent and frustration began to manifest itself in new ways that I found very disconcerting. She didn’t want my micromanagement or constant tending, and although that was what had been the status quo for a handful of years, it was not going to play well with the emerging personality of my stepdaughter, and I had to reconcile with that after some painful reflection. These were the cards, and I could either play them or fold. I was not ready to fold.

My stepson on the other hand had only grown under my wing. Ironically, I did not believe that he and I would become close and when that relationship evolved into something much more intense than a step-parent/step-child stereotypical relationship I felt unprepared on a number of occasions of how viscerally protective I felt about him. Even to this day I am not sure where the line between biological parent and stepparent is drawn. I understand I am not his mother, but I sure do feel like his mother. I suppose it is as close to the real thing I will ever get.

The kids’ mother has had two additional children in the last four years, and although I do not want to focus on her for the duration of this essay, it is impossible to ignore her role in my life. It is also very easy to sling arrows at a person whom I disdain and have such judgmental feelings about, but my happiness is based upon my personal choices, and I only have control over my own choices. A couple of old friends wrote some essays about self control and I’ve recently reviewed them, leading to this narrative. So to them I’d like to offer my gratitude and hopefully again evolve and grow from this reflection.

See, although my steplife has not been perfect, it has, by comparison to others’, been quite ideal. The biological mother may rear her head Putin-style every blue moon, but her invasion is mostly psychological through the brainwashing she does to my stepdaughter who desperately needs to believe a redeeming narrative about her mother. A narrative that excuses all past transgressions, explains away all the non-cohesive story lines, fills in all the gaps. Generally these narratives portray the mother in a victim’s light, with my husband, and I guess by association, me, in the roles of grand oppressors and truth-benders.

This is where being the custodial stepmother has been my greatest asset, along with my natural drive to nurture and protect and love. My stepdaughter has history as her guide to the future, and her history with my husband and me is one of consistency, fruition of most promises, constant support and involvement.  If anyone, including my stepdaughter, wants to challenge me, I will refer to our track record and rest most content upon those laurels. There have been times, of course, wherein we have demonstrated our faulty humanity, but show me an intact first family where that hasn’t been the case and I will eat a bat.

I have sat literally for hours weaving explanations about why things aren’t as complicated as they may appear to a teenage girl. I try very hard to speak to her on a level that will not be considered condescending. Unfortunately, my stepdaughter must believe much of what I say, even though what I say often times are half-truths. Her mother has transgressed against her father in myriad documented ways (from third-party financial sources), court judgments have ruled against her, and finally, ultimately, the prima facie evidence that her mother has chosen not to pursue more custody of my stepdaughter and her brother. But am I allowed to communicate this evidence as a means to explain the strain between the households? No, I am not. As much as I would like to, especially during moments of duress, I cannot. It is not my place, and even if I did, this information would be received as hostility, jealousy, and a means of revenge. Some things children should not have to know about their parents, maybe not ever, maybe not until they are much older.

That doesn’t make living with it any easier. Especially with the mother placed on so high a pedestal. I could hold up the thousands of loads of laundry, dishes, trips to the doctor, school volunteering efforts, as evidence that I had nothing but the best interests of my stepchildren in mind. But all that effort seems to disintegrate the moment my stepdaughter boasts about the next big thing her mother has promised her. It is only within the dignity I try so hard to conduct in my own mind that it does not consume me.

I did not grow up from childhood thinking that my epitaph would read “Martyr.” And I do not want that to be my epitaph. Some days I have to tell myself that doing what I’ve been doing has helped my own mental health, that being with my husband is the redeeming factor in this arrangement, that I do live in relative comfort, and that I can take or leave my stepchildren’s loyalty and love. But this sense of injustice brews whenever I’m forced to hear their mother’s name or latest accomplishment. Because I’ve been doing what she should have been doing. And had she been responsible, her jet-set lifestyle would have had two very consequential burdens compromising her ability to just pick up and go whenever her job or social life called for it.

From my vantage point, almost six years in, I can say that I’m not quite a veteran, not quite a newbie, but still finding my way through a veil of confusion that has enough consistency as not to make everything a surprise. I know the tricks the mother will play, I know how to predict how my reactions will play out, I know when my husband will understand me and when he will be at a loss for words. What I cannot predict, however, is possibly the most painful: If the love and investment I have put into these children will show fruition beyond their needs they had as children and if when they are adults if I will be acknowledged in their upbringing. I can tell you from the pit of my soul this is what concerns me. I have no biological heirs, and it is possible that my personal possessions and legacy will be left in their hands. Since I am an atheist I know that when I am dead I will not have any faculties to feel rejection or the amnesia that exists with our dead loved ones. But I have no one to pass along the legacy of my own ancestors, and I fear that the mother’s impressions upon them will prevail to the point that my positive influences, traditions, idioms, and idiosyncrasies will have been in vain. And most importantly, that they were raised by a childless woman who wanted nothing but to be devoted to them, and that they are worthy of love from a woman who did not owe them that love.

Maybe you, Dear Reader, could construe this to be a selfish tirade by a childless woman, but I do not consider myself to be childless in that I have held the lives of two precious children in my hands. In all honesty, I am not very concerned about my legacy. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. Soon all of us will be nothing but a number in some dusty annal kept on a digital file. And after that, in four billion years, the sun will devour the earth. All that matters is love.

I try very hard to remember this as I labor over dishes and laundry. If this is my purpose, then I will bear the burden of that. It’s just hard to believe that this was meant to be my fate. So much angst tethered to so much love. And that someone would so willfully give that away. I just can’t fathom it.

Evenstar

It's about to get real...

As most of you know, BM is about to spew forth her new spawn into the world. I already feel sorry for this kid and she hasn't even been born yet.

I've been tense for over a week just waiting. Why do I think shit is about to hit the fan? Because it almost always does with her.

Want to know my two long term predictions? This is going to go one of two ways....

Scenario Number 1:

BM - is going to be all involved with the new kid and she's going to start neglecting the kids she already has. They are going to start getting MORE tardies because she can't be bothered to get them to school on time. They aren't going to get their homework done because she's too busy. They are going to start acting out more and more.

Step-Dad - is going to completely fall of the radar for my steps. According to BM, he is going to "work from home" and start picking the kids up everyday from school. Once BM goes back to work, he's going to decide "it's too hard" and SS is going to end up back in daycare, SD is going to demand to ride to bus to our house everyday and we'll go right back to the way things were.

SD - is going to go back to hating her mother and cling to me for life support because she's going to feel replaced.

SS - is going to do the crap he's been doing to my BD for years (being mean, punching, hitting) to the new baby and it's finally going to dawn on BM and Step Dad that he has a problem. Then they are promptly going to make US deal with it.


Scenario Number 2

Step - Dad - is going to abandon ship.

BM - is going to fall back to letting the kids do whatever they want

SD - is going to continue her mothering of BM and start mothering the baby because BM won't do it.

SS - is going to go even more crazy and get worse about not listening because he has no guidance whatsoever.

It's going to be interesting to see what is going to happen. I know I shouldn't worry about any of this considering I can't control what happens over there, but I like to plan. Even if I'm wrong, I like to know what I'm walking into. Of course, they could completely throw me for a loop and everything could just be great, but I doubt it. We'll see....

There once was a boy...

This post has little to do with step parenting but plenty to do with blended family situation in my mind.

When I was in high school, there was a boy.

He wasn't especially cute, he wasn't particularly witty. He was extremely tall and rather preppy. Through some freak incident of nature we became best friends. Upon getting to know him (and the fact that I was 15 and hormones were going C.r.a.z.y), I developed a rather large crush on him.

We never dated. Ever.

I honestly don't know why. There were plenty of opportunities really. Our junior year, I pissed him off pretty bad (I was in my self rightious judgement phase and cursed him out and hung up on him because he was on drugs when he called me, apparently without a spot, and wigged him out). We made up eventually, I remember making plans to go to the movies and it never panning out. I remember being invited to parties, and going, only to end up being ignored by him and getting flirted with by other guys. I remember long car rides where he took me home even though I lived clear across the city from him.

Then in college, he came over one day after I had been dumped by some guy. I was heartbroken. After I finished my two hour word vomit about it, he kissed me. Told me to think about that. And he left.

Two days later he asked me what I thought about it and I told him I needed more time to get over this douchebag. He took offense and I have rarely spoken to him since.

Maybe three or four conversations in eight years. Never lasting more than a few minutes.

I do know that he's a doctor now. An ER doctor. He's on wife number 2. I think I heard somewhere that wife number 1 cheated and left him. He has no kids that I know of. I don't know if that's because he doesn't want them or if he can't have them. I have it on good authority that he and wife number 2 are very happy, which of course makes me happy.

It's funny because when things get REALLY bad at home (with the kids), I fleetingly wonder what would my life have been like if I had told him yes, I wanted to date. If his timing was better. If I hadn't been such a self rightious prick. Obviously, my life would have turned out very differently. Literally, the path my life has gone would probably never have happened.

Would I have turned out the same? Would we still be together? Would we have kids? Would we have gotten married? Sometimes I dream of a life that never happened. When my heart is broken by something ridiculous that I have no control over. When I wish for things to be simple. Sometimes I regret a kiss not returned. A path not taken.

But then I remember, I am where my choices took me. Of course I can fantasize about a life that never happened and think about all the wonderful things that MIGHT have happened because they DIDN'T. We could've lasted a week and then broken up and hated each other forever. He could've knocked me up and not gotten to finish his doctorate and dispised me for ruining his dreams. I could've dropped out of school. There are literally a ton of different things that could have happened had our lives lined up at the same time.

I'll never know the outcome of that relationship, though I'm glad he's happy. I'm happy with my life most of the time. I know this is where I need to be. Even when BM makes me want to spit nails or SD breaks my heart or SS is a shithead, I know this is where I need to be.

And that makes everything okay, but I wonder, how many of the rest of us step mothers dream about a proposal un taken from our younger days? Especially when things get crazy.

All I feel is pain

I was searching through the girls room last night, attempting to find my new red nail polish (I had let the girls borrow it, and surprise, they had actually put it back in my bathroom) and I came across SD's journals.

I haven't seen them in a long time. One I gave her when she was erasing, as an outlet for her feelings. The other was apparently a birthday present from one of her friends this past October. Now, due to the way SD has been behaving in the past, I read them both. I won't tell her that I read them, but I think that it doesn't hurt to make sure that everything is on the up and up.

Most of it was your typical teenage bullshit. Boys, boys, and more boys. No mention of the 17 year old, which I found interesting. But plenty of mention of the rest of them.

However it was the entries after the whole blow up with her mother that basically brought me to tears. It's just so painful to read. The poor kid has been through so much stuff. I mean she has been the center of this "war" that BM has been waging against DH and everyone else since she as seven years old. BM is in an emotionally abusive relationship and she's condoning it by using the excuse (get this) that DH treated her WORSE. Which even SD knows is a lie, but BM continues to tell her own child this. BM uses her for a friend and condifant. Hell, SD spends more of her time mothering BM than BM does mothering SD. SD never got a chance to be a child.

It breaks my damn heart.

She made the comment that the therapist has made her realize that it's not her mother, it's her stepdad. Or her stepdad's influence on her mother. Which I agree with to a point. BM is still batshit crazy and a manipulative bitch, but now I wonder if she doesn't act so mean to DH because she realizes she screwed up. Grass wasn't greener on the other side, was it bitch?

Being a stepmother hurts all the time. The heartbreak from watching this and always being on edge just makes me hurt all the time. I worry so much for these kids. And ALL I can do is just hold on and hope that I'm promoting a peaceful enough household to sustain all of them....*sigh*

When BM decides to be a parent

It hurts...

I understand logically that SD and SS need their mother to be their mother. I get it. I really do.

What bothers me is that is has taken almost six years for BM to see that she wasn't being a parent, specifically to SD, and has requested "another chance".

I don't really believe that you should ever get to the point where you have to ask your own kid to give you a second chance to be a fucking parent....but that's beside the point.

DH and I have always supported SD in her hopes and dreams. SD wanted to do roller derby, we did all the research, determined that she could try out when she turned 13 and went about our business. Now the whole thing is okay because BM thinks it's a great idea. Which granted, I know that it makes OUR lives harder if we want SD to do something that BM doesn't approve of but it hurts. It specifically hurts DH. We have done everything we can to foster SD's dreams and BM hasn't. Now she's on board and it's like the world is shitting rainbows and glitter.

I can't give SD the motherly love she wants and needs. I know that. She knows that. She has a mother. It makes me sad that I have to sit there and watch this train wreck of a mother/daughter relationship and there's nothing that I can do or say to stop it from happening. When this new daughter is born, BM is going to be so consumed with this kid, that she's going to neglect SD again. SD's going to lash out and we are going to bear the brunt of her behavior because we always do. It's entirely unfair.