Mirrors

Caroline and I kept our apartment when Tyler moved out. It has its positives-- we didn't have to move, we are both used to living here, and her daycare is right across the street. But I didn't feel like I could keep living in a space that represented our old life because it made me feel sad and uneasy all the time. Plus, some of our furniture went with Tyler, of course. So I changed things up. Made things brighter and bolder. It's a fresh start. Not anywhere near finished, and I still have lots of blank walls, but... it's a beginning.

Here's the living room couch. I got it from IKEA and put it together, all by myself! Our living room used to be a bunch of blah browns, so I love the bright blue.

Our bedroom used to be blue with like a country quilt on the bed, but I re-did it in bright red. Which you can't really see at all in this picture and it also looks like the reds don't match each other, and in general it just looks kind of horrible. But I promise they do match when there isn't two different types of light, and it looks good in person. There, now you're convinced.

I've spent an awful lot of time at IKEA lately, replacing things Tyler took with him and getting new stuff to redecorate. It is kind of a depressing place to go when you are dealing with a situation like this. There are all these cute little families buying baby stuff and couples moving in together and being all affectionate and making out and stuff in the checkout lines and vom. I try to just charge through with my cart and pick up what I need and book it outta there.

There is also the problem of how to decorate when I have literally no money to spare. But I needed to redecorate in some way for my own mental health, so I have resorted to using lots of mirrors. IKEA has lots of them for cheap, and they help open up the place, which is dark and small. At first it kind of bothered me to be seeing my reflection everywhere I turned.

But now I kind of like it. Like I said, it's open. And I'd rather have mirrors than mass-produced art that you find stacked in an IKEA bin. We used to have our walls filled with paintings and art from different places we'd visited, but a lot of that went with Tyler, so I guess I'm just going to have to take some trips to fill up my walls again!

Besides, my new life is going to be one that actually includes me and what I want. Rather than centering around what I can do for everyone else while I just sort of fade into the background. So the mirrors are kind of fitting.

I like our "new" place. It's not our forever home, of course. But it will do for now. For the first time in my life, I have a place that's just mine. And it turns out that that's a pretty good feeling.

Justifications, rationalizations

It's funny how strongly my own feelings about my divorce are affected by other people. I think that if I were living in some kind of social vacuum where there was no one else to influence me about it, I would be in a pretty constant state of calmness and peace that I am finally making the changes in my life that I've wanted to make for a long time. But really it's hard to say how I would feel, because everyone and their dog has an opinion about it and no one can possibly hold it back, not even a little bit, not even to my face.

I should back up a little and explain what I mean, because from the people I am close to, the response has been overwhelmingly positive. No judgment, not even from those who don't know the entire story. My friends are truly amazing and supportive, and I love them completely.

But what makes me feel the worst is when people guilt me about Caroline. Believe me, I am fully, completely, soul-crushingly aware that I am splitting up our family, and I know what that means for her future. I don't need anyone to remind me of that. It haunts me. It kills me. I wake up during the night and lie awake for hours, completely overwhelmed with guilt.

So here I go again, with my explanations, justifications, rationalizations... not for them. For me. Because I can't forget why I'm doing this, and it keeps my spirits up, and keeps me going when things get tough or when I face more judgment and disapproval and guilt.

I was unhappy. Miserable, in fact. Not just a matter of looking at your life and asking, is this as happy as I can possibly be... what if there's something more out there? But a matter of, I just cannot continue with this, I cannot keep going, I know that this is not forever and if it is, then I just don't want to keep living. Should I have kept suffocating under the weight of a promise I made when I was too young to really know what I wanted from my life? Just for the sake of not backing down?

Once the decision was made, I felt relieved, free, alive. I had doubts, sure... I still do have doubts. But I felt like I could not just close my eyes and go back to sleep. Could not slip back under the surface and pretend that I had never come up for air. If I had done it, if I had gone back just for the sake of not hurting feelings and keeping the peace, every minute would have been a lie and I just. could. not. do it. Life is too short, and you only get one shot at it. I'm not going to waste my time-- and his-- with something that I know in my bones is not enough.

But people can call me selfish. They can call me whatever they want. It hurts, sure. But it doesn't hurt as much as staying in an unfulfilling marriage would have, over the long run. For me, for her, or for him. It wasn't a good situation for any of us, and I'm proud to have the courage to say so.

Things are looking up

I feel good these days. Maybe it's too early to be feeling good, but I can't deny it and I don't really want to.

I've been keeping (very) busy, trying to focus on being productive at school, caring for Caroline, and re-decorating my apartment. The evenings are when I feel the most lonely and sad, after Caroline goes to bed, but I have more than enough to do to keep me distracted. I put her down around 7, clean up the kitchen and pick up all her toys, do a load of laundry, get food ready for both of us for the next day, pack her daycare bag, prep food for the next day's dinner, and take a shower. By the time I'm done with all that, it's usually about 9 and I study if I need to, or just watch TV, read, or play on the internet and go to bed around 11. We both get up around 7 and we're out the door with all our stuff to get to daycare by 8.

I'm not going to pretend that it's all easy and fun, being a single mom in dental school. But it's pretty manageable as long as you have a plan and a system. When I have an exam or if she's sick or teething, things start to fall apart a little bit, but I can generally handle it. Tyler wasn't here this summer and had taken a lot of trips before that, so it's not really anything new... just more official. And once he gets things set up for her at his place, he's going to have her every other weekend, so I will have some time to myself to go out with friends, sleep in, or whatever.

Anyway, I've been feeling good. I was reorganizing my bedroom closet last night (the empty half had been getting to me a little bit) while listening to music and I just felt... strangely happy. I've wanted a different life for much longer than I have admitted it to myself. And now I am getting it, and it feels really good. I feel like I shouldn't feel content like this, that it's too soon. But I do, I feel satisfied with what I have and hopeful and excited for the future that I know is eventually coming.

People judge me for what I've done here. I knew that they would and I know that they do. But that's okay. I refuse to live my life the way I was half-living it. I can't wake up every day wishing I was somewhere else. My husband didn't deserve that either. This process is hard and it's awful but it will end with a better life for all of us. Someone said in my comments last week that it's better to be from a broken home than living in one. And isn't that the truth.

Empty

Tyler moved out tonight.

I'm sitting here on my empty living room floor, shaking a little bit. Tonight is hard. Better times are coming, but tonight is really hard.

Things have gotten messier recently. I don't want to discuss it on the internet, really, but I guess I should have known these things can't stay too uncomplicated. I am taking his child, basically. He's losing his baby because I was unhappy. I was naive to think he wouldn't fight back and get angry.

This was my decision. So why am I so incredibly, indescribably sad? I mean, I guess it's the little things that aren't really so little. Like the lack of furniture in my living room. It feels so empty. The pictures missing from the walls. The fact that only half my dishes are sitting in my kitchen cabinets. And then it's the big things that are really, really big. Like the fact that I promised to love him and be with him forever and I'm breaking that promise, like the fact that marriage is supposed to be for better or worse and I'm cutting and running, like the fact that we have a child and I am taking her from her father because I was just too unhappy to keep pretending. Part of me hates myself for doing this, he definitely hates me for doing this, and I wonder if she will hate me one day too.

But I can't... I can't just let it slide. I can't go back. I can't fake it, or just push through, or ignore the fact that I was just as lonely when he was home as I was when he was away. I can't live that life anymore. Not for anyone. I'd be doing everyone more harm than good. And the subject of divorce would continue to come up over and over until this same exact thing happened, so I might as well get on with it while she is too young to remember the fights and the yelling and the bitterness and the boxes of books and sheets and cookware... and the empty living room...

I know I'm doing the right thing. But sitting here on the floor of this empty room, my doubts creep in and that's why I'm shaking a little. I should call someone to come over. I have plenty of friends who would. But right now I guess I just feel like being alone. In this empty room.

I think I need to clarify

First of all, thank you all so much for your comments, emails, and Facebook messages. I really am overwhelmed by how many people care about what I'm going through. Even after me only updating sporadically here and not posting anymore at all on the bump boards/MM. Honestly... I can't say how much it means to me to know that people are wishing good things for me and for Caroline. Even people we don't know in real life at all.

But I need to expand a little on my last post, I think. Yes, we are getting divorced. The word itself still sounds ugly and horrible to me. But this decision is 100% mine and I am about 90% happy with it at this point. (Our counselor asked me what the other 10% was and I hesitated and finally said "guilt" and she looked at me like she knew that I was done.) It feels like... relief. And hope. And lots of sadness, too, but... mostly I am looking forward because I am tired of feeling like I am only going to live my life halfway happy.

The awful parts: how devastated he is. The guilt trips. The knowledge that I am denying him a full relationship with his child (he's going to live across the country from us... how can they really ever be close?). The worry that I'm not doing what's best for her... that I'm being selfish. Feeling like I could die when I see him hug her and cry...

The good parts: the relief of having made the decision. Knowing deep down that this is the right thing. Caring for her alone without feeling that awful, all-consuming resentment about the fact that she and I will always come in second or third after his career. Hoping that someday I will find someone who is able to give me what I need... that better times are coming. Taking charge of this life that seemed like it was completely derailed by those two lines and this beautiful child while his continued all but undisturbed.

I can't stay with someone just because I feel bad for them. I can't keep faking it. This is going to happen at some point and I may as well follow through before things are much more complicated... before we have a house, real jobs, money, more children. Do I split up our family now, or in ten years? The move to Denver that has been looming is really what forced the issue. It was like, do I move forward with this? Do I pack up my life and leave all my family and friends, find a job out there, have more children with him, buy a house with him? Or do I just... not?

I choose not.

I know this is the right thing. I know it because he hasn't lived here for three weeks or more, and I feel... at peace. Relieved. Happy. Not that I don't care about him or wish him well. He is a good person who deserves more than someone who is always looking over her shoulder for a different life.

Please don't feel sorry for me. Well, if you want, you can feel sorry for the messiness and sadness and legalness of it all... because that part really is terrible. But I'm making the hard choice that I feel is the right one.

Thank you again for all of your support. Really. I am tearing up just typing this.

Photo by Kari Merkel

Divorce

We're getting one.

I don't have a whole lot else to say other than that, right now. I filed the papers yesterday.

I hope to continue this blog even though I haven't been great about posting lately. Just going through some tough times right now... and don't really feel comfortable about putting it all out there on the internet. Not that I haven't shared anything and everything here before, but this just seems like it should be private.

This is hard. This is so, so hard. But I know that better times are coming someday and that is what is keeping me going.

Overly personal statement

I've been struggling a little bit lately, hence the long absences between posts. Tyler's been away. Pretty much constantly since June. He's been home a few days here and there. Juggling school and Caroline all by myself has been... tiring. Tiring isn't the word, really. I'm drained. I'm falling behind on my paperwork, losing too much weight, and running on fumes. I know I can do it, and I don't have much longer to go until I get a little help. I'm just, you know. Struggling a little.

So, I'm trying to get things together for residency applications, because that's coming up quickly. I have to write a personal statement. I despise writing about myself for personal gain. It feels so fake. I sat here staring at the cursor blinking for the better part of the evening before writing this all in one go, without stopping. I can't put it in my applications. But I kind of wish I could. It sums up how I feel. If I can do this, if I can have enough of myself left over to still love what I'm doing, I deserve to get in wherever I want. And those bitches better take me.

----------------------------------------------------

I had a baby during dental school.

People don't do that. Well, women don't do that. I didn't mean to. She just happened. I found out right before part 1 of the national boards, and I cried every day for weeks. I thought I was losing my career. And my career meant everything to me.

I didn't know how I was going to do it. I didn't really think I could.

But I did. I am. I took a break for a year, after encountering some pregnancy complications and reevaluating some priorities. Leaving her and going back to school was the hardest thing I ever did. But I did it and I'm glad I did. I wanted to finish. I want to do this. I still want this more than anything.

More than almost anything.

In order to do this, in order to have a baby and raise her with very little help (due to my husband's long absences due to his job) during a demanding program, I had to reprioritize. Rearrange. Find a balance. Make things work. I couldn't be single-minded about my career anymore. And you know what? I think I'm better off for it. I love my daughter. I think she has made my conviction that I want to work in this field even stronger. If I could leave her at home to go back and finish what I started, and still love every single day of what I'm doing, well. It must be the right choice, right? It must be what I'm meant to do. If I can add this little person who requires so much love and attention to my life and still have enough left over to devote to my career and be happy with it every day, I must have chosen well for myself.

This is what I want to do. I still believe that, more than ever.

----------------------------------------------------

Even on days like today, when I'm totally exhausted and overwhelmed, I'm glad things happened the way they did. Sure, I still think about how the timing could have been better. But my motivation doesn't drag at times like my classmates'. I'm doing this for her. She needs me. And I'm so lucky to still be doing what I love.

She's pretty cute, too. That doesn't hurt.

And guess what? She took her first steps alone last weekend. I cried so many happy tears. I can't believe she's 18 months old. I know it's cliche, but really. Where does the time go?