I am pulling on my big girl panties and while I am about as far away from Catholicism as possible, I am here for confession...
*humming Jeopardy* Damn song gets stuck in my head every fuckin' time!
Ok, so now you know; I have 3 babies. This is the first time I have ever talked about this, so please forgive me, I have had a bit (a lot) of liquid courage.
Here is the MAJORLY shortened version:
I have not seen or talked to my oldest son, he's 11 now, in more than 3.5 yrs, since I was 7 months pregnant w/ my baby girl. There was an assault involved at that time. We had a NASTY custody battle. One in which all the family law lawyers in our area knew the name. One which involved too much fuckin' money, several lawyers, numerous CPS cases, countless police, and one previously mentioned assault. Even in the YEARS prior to this (yes, years), I had limited time w/ him. I "lost" my son when he was 3.5. Why? B/c the shit head knew it was the only way to hurt me. He was right.
That said, that post was directed at my ex. You see, I don't typically go looking for the diseased fuck hole. I simply live my life. But on occasion, I get a little reminiscent, and I want to see something, anything, about my son. When I signed up for Twitter, I wanted to see if I could find him, so I entered in his email address. I wasn't paying attention and I invited him to follow me on Twitter instead of searching for him by his email *smacks head into wall repeatedly for 7 minutes*
Twitter links to my blog.
I almost deleted my Twitter, but decided that was fuckin' retarded. I do that and he wins.
So I did NOT delete my Twitter.
I did NOT un-link my blog.
I am standing up and owning myself. I know he is prowling out there and I wanted to give him a message.
I really miss my son. Some days are better than others. I just see so much of him in my middle son and it starts the memories flowing. Even though my middle son never really knew my oldest, he still calls him "my brother." And what makes me really sad is that my oldest always said he wanted a baby sister. Well, he gets a baby sister and has never even met her. *uber sigh* I have gotta quit while I'm ahead...
Does that make a little more sense now? I hope it explains a bit more.
So, you still ready for that ass whoopin? He deserves it! sjAimee, bring all ya got! We can tag team him! Not in the fun, pervy way, but in the WWE, CM Punk, John Cena, Triple H kind of way.
On your mark. Get Set... GO!
*fight ensues* including but not limited to: kicking, junk punching, eyeball plucking, nose stomping, and junk punching round 2.
A Sober Edit:
W/in all the drunken explanation and fighting, I realized I forgot to add The Confession. (Well, besides that I kinda cyber-stalked my ex.) My Confession: This was my choice. After fighting my ex for 4 years, I couldn't do it any more. During that time, I got married, had my other son after being placed on bed rest from stress, and was pregnant again w/ my daughter. You can imagine the strain that has on a marriage, then add thousands of $$ of lawyer debt and dr bills to top it off. I had a choice.
1. Keep fighting for my oldest child. Lose my husband. Lose myself. Hurt my other son. Hurt my unborn child if my ex lost his temper again. (I'm lucky the assault was not on me, but I was there and it could have easily been me.) I could continue to allow my oldest son to be torn between me and his dad. I could continue to allow his dad to use him as a tool to hurt me. Hell, he wasn't even allowed to call me Mommy...
2. I could let go. I could hope that his life wouldn't be as crazy when he isn't being coached into lying and hating me. I could try to make a normal life for my other two children, husband, and family.
"All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on." ~H Ellis
There are days when I regret many things, but then I remember I cannot regret them. Those choices gave me my children. Those choices made me who I am today.
I have lost so many important people in my life not by my choice. This. This was my choice. And believe me when I say it was and still is the hardest one I have ever had to make. I gave up my visitation, but not my rights. I was supposed to be able to call him on his b-day and Christmas. They never answered.
I always wonder how his life is now. I hope he is well. I dream of him knocking on my door and knowing him instantly, because I will never forget his eyes. They are blue with a tiny spot of brown in his right one. And, I will never forget that crooked grin. But until that day...
... I'll keep dreaming.