(Part one is here if you haven't read it yet)
Living at my mom's house at 29 in my old bedroom with my son and one on the way was super depressing. I don't think a day went by that I didn't cry. I also had been married once before at 19 to a boy who cheated on me constantly so the thought of having two failed marriages by the time I turned 30 was overwhelming and shameful for me.
I spent six weeks living at my moms house and they are still the longest six weeks of my life. Every day seemed to last forever. At this time my oldest son was 3 years old and he had his whole world ripped apart. Mom was always crying. He lived at Grandma's house instead of his house and Dad was too wrapped up in his own crap to spend lots of time with him. It destroyed me further to know that I couldn't help him as much as I should. My 30th birthday was spend living here and it was even more depressing for me. Not only did I turn 30 and leave my 20's behind but I was back living at my mothers house facing a divorce.
During this time too I was trying in a million different ways to get my husband to talk to me. To get him back. To get him away from HER! Nothing was working.
Then one day my mom saw someone from our old church (they had sold the building and we just assumed the church had closed down.) and she said that the church was still active and had just changed their name (that's why we couldn't find them!). They were renting out the auditorium at our local community college on Sundays. We decided to go and that first Sunday that we went they were doing something way out of the ordinary from any church that I had been to.
The pastor decided that they were going to take the monthly budget (!) and give it to the congregation in small increments so the congregation could go out and take the blessings of the church into the community. They gave envelopes to my mother and I too even though we weren't members anymore and hadn't been there for years. We were instructed not to open the envelopes until we got home and I spent the rest of the service thinking about what I would do with the money.
I decided that if I got 100 dollars I would buy stuff for the local homeless shelter and donate it. If I got one of the 20's I would take my mom out for dinner to thank her for taking me back in to her house. If I got one of the 5's I would treat my friend to coffee for being such a great friend. There were no 50's and I never gave one thought to what I would do if I got a 10.
Lo and behold I got a 10 dollar bill. That's when for the first time in my life I heard God's voice. He told me to give the money and the blessing that went along with it to my husband. I brushed it off. Doug didn't deserve the money and he DEFINITELY didn't deserve the blessing in my mind. Someone else could bless him. Not me. He destroyed my life. He didn't deserve a blessing from me.
I raged at God for hours. The only thing I heard in return was that I was supposed to give it to Doug. So finally I gave in (reluctantly) and called Doug and asked him to come over because I had something to give him. He was going to a friend's house in another town but agreed to come over as long as the visit was short and I didn't 'badger' him. I agreed and he came over. I gave him the money and the card with the blessing and he looked very confused. He told me to keep the 10 dollars and he would just take the blessing. I told him it didn't work that way. The money was part of the blessing. He reluctantly accepted it and went on his way. That was our first talk since we broke up that didn't end with him angry and me crying.
As the weeks wore on I grew more sad and more frustrated that nothing I said touched Doug. He was wrapped up in the other woman and his freedom. He was also wrapped up in his own confusion and misery and it affected him very deeply. He would work 15 and 16 hours a day so he didn't have to come home to an empty house. He told me that when we moved he closed the door to our son's room and never even opened it. He couldn't stand to see it empty.
Through it all though I could hear God's voice clearly. More clearly than at any other time in my life. He kept telling me that I needed to be patient and that when the time was right I would find the words that would start the change. He also guided my steps and told me when something I was doing was helping and when something I was doing was hurting. I am still amazed at how clearly I heard Him. It all of the misery it was an amazing feeling.
Then one day I DID find the words that helped a little bit. I was talking to Doug about the other woman and he told me that she was a good person. I asked him how good of a person could she be if she knew he was married and trying to start not only a friendship with him but also a relationship. Because that was her goal from the first time she asked him out for a drink. That caused him to stop and actually think about some of the things she had done and said to him. Not only about him but about me and the relationship between Doug and I.
The next thing I said that actually got to him was about a week before I gave birth. I asked him to do the 'Love Dare' with me. He told me no and then I started yelling at him (not the best idea but effective) that he had asked so much of me and the least he could do was 10 days of the Love Dare with me. I don't know why but he actually agreed. I went and bought the book that day and we started doing it 2 days later.
Then I went into labor. I went into labor at 4 am and called him about 7 and told him. He wasn't sure if it was the real thing or not because I had had so many false labor calls in the previous weeks. So he decided that he would come over later that night if it was still going on. I labored and walked all day either by myself or with my mom. My contractions were never regular. They came whenever I moved so I wasn't sure if I was actually in labor or not. The started getting stronger around 6 pm and so I called Doug again and he came over. About 9 pm I started feeling like I was going to throw up and we decided that I needed to get to the hospital and get checked out. It took awhile and I got to the hospital around 11. I was already 6 cm dilated and at 1:25 am gave birth to our beautiful son Tristan.
When we went home from the hospital Doug decided that he was going to stay at my mom's house with me for the first few days. It was nice. We talked and hung out and got to know Tristan. Then one night there was an incident at my moms house with her roommate (long story, and not mine to only to tell) and Doug looked at me and said that we were coming home with him. That we didn't need to stay there with those things going on anymore.
That night I threw some stuff together and went home with him. It was strange and weird and painful to be home but to not know if I was staying or what was going to happen. The next day he had to drive up to Wisconsin to attend his sisters wedding with our oldest son who was a ring bearer. I was supposed to go too but something told me that I shouldn't. Physically I could have made the trip even though I was only 5 days out from birth but something told me that it would be an eye opener for Doug if I didn't go with him.
And it was. He told me that he realized just what being a single parent was all about that night. There's no help. It's all on you and if the child gets tired at 9:30 then you have to leave the party and sit in your hotel room alone and watch tv. He also told me that when a couples dance was announced he wanted me there for the first time in a long time. He said it didn't feel right without me. Doug's sister told me later that not coming to her wedding was probably one of the best moves that I made lol. She was disappointed that I wasn't there but she saw the realizations that Doug went through and thought it was a good move on my part.
After the wedding we tried to settle back into being a family and it was filled with so much pain and anger and bumps in the road to get back to the point we are today. But, I think I will leave that for part 3. It does get better and not as depressing in part 3 :)