This is the second post in a series about my marriage and it's downfall. Since Freckles is moving out within the week - I am feeling the need to examine the relationship dynamic starting at the beginning and examining both of our contributions to it's demise.
I spent so much time in a daze, trying to plan our whirlwind nuptials. Everyone knew about the impending birth - at my work, people were expressing their approval of my decision. Certainly, I was an upstanding woman if I made the "right choice" after my mistake. Yet, it seemed like the excitement was sucked out of me. I felt pure dread...I was going to be a MOM! A MOM!
I never had held a baby in my life. I didn't even know how to change a diaper.
When my soon-to-be husband told me how he took care of his little brother, 10 years younger - I swooned. This man was the one I was supposed to marry, right? He knew how to take care of me, and provide.
Yet, the pit of my stomach ached. I couldn't get over the terrible feeling that I was doing the wrong thing. We argued about the marriage. Neither of us wanted it, but I insisted. I thought by getting married, everything would be OK. I would be taken care of...I wouldn't have to be a young, single mom.
The stigma plagued me - surely, if I wasn't married, people would realize I got knocked up. My mistake was worn as a belly that could not be hidden. My shame was apparent to everyone.
(I feel so guilty associating my daughter with my shame, but the truth is...I did. And for a long time, it was difficult for me to accept my role as a mother.)
My insistence to get married continued, and 4 months later - I was walking down the aisle, watching my future husband bawl as I approached. I thought his tears were so beautiful at the time...this is how much he wants me - I am with the man I'm supposed to be with.
Looking back, perhaps the tears were not a sign of joy, but fear.
The day we got married, we escaped it all by running to Red Robin in our formal wear. We sat at the table together, making idle chit chat...feeling somewhat relieved that it was all over. Yet, it was never the same again.
Once we walked down that aisle - it changed, we changed...and somehow we couldn't ever go back.
That night, we tried to make love. My whole body was tense - our love making had always been passionate, tonight and from then on...it was distracted, uncomfortable, and painful.
Was it my lack of trust in a man that had already cheated on me?
Was it my reaction to the decision to marry despite my intuition telling me otherwise?
Was it my own shame overcoming my body and closing off to the man that tried to care for me?
It wasn't always bad. Freckles attempted to care for me during my pregnancy in various ways. He cooked and bought items for the baby - but I never again opened my heart. I tried to convince myself that I wasn't used to a healthy relationship dynamic - that's why I was uncomfortable, but it just felt so wrong.
From our wedding day forward, I felt like I had transformed into a machine. My personal feelings shoved so far down inside me...I could hardly breathe. I didn't know how to function under this facade.
I put on a smile, closed off my heart, and moved forward through the years.
To be continued
Part 1: The History of A Marriage
Part 2: The Beginning is the Ending
Part 3: The Downfall