Sunday, June 16, 2013
For the first time since my husband’s death, I’m struggling with father’s day.
Today it smacked me square in the face “Your husband will never be a father because he’s DEAD.”
My brain is full of trickery and really pisses me off.
I haven’t struggled with father’s day in the past because Seth wasn't a father and we never had children. It’s the one holiday I don’t struggle with. Until today.
Today my mind went back to his first suicide attempt (I wrote about it here)
We had been trying to get pregnant for a couple of months. Not trying - trying, but not using any kind of contraceptive and we just decided if it happens it happens. If it doesn't then it doesn't.
All signs pointed to that I was pregnant. Possibly a couple months along. But all the pregnancy tests kept saying no.
Then my world fell apart. My husband tried to kill himself, he was sitting in a psychiatric ward.
I’ll never forget getting the call that my husband was in intensive care due to a failed suicide attempt. I hung up the phone, and all I could think of is “Holy shit, what if I am pregnant??”
Being pregnant, with my husband sitting in a physic ward, wasn't the dream I had envisioned.
Three days into my husband’s hospital stay, I started my cycle. After three months of not having one. After three months of thinking the tests were wrong, because my cycle had always been like clockwork. I have never gone three months without it making its lovely presence.
I assume I had a miscarriage. A miscarriage due to stress, or that the baby was never alive.. or that for some unknown reason, my body just stopped for three months leading me to think I was pregnant.
While Seth was still in the hospital, I went and had a 10 year contraceptive put in my body. I didn't talk to him about it. I didn't ask his thoughts. I just did it.
I wasn't willing to bring a child into what I was going through. I knew if I did have a baby, I would be a single parent.. but I thought it would be due to me divorcing Seth because of his suicide attempts, not that I would actually be a single widowed parent. I think my brain knew far more than I did of what was coming up for us.
Seth was mad at me until the day he died for having the contraceptive put in. I think he honestly thought having a child would fix everything and I didn't know what road he was heading down when I agreed that we could start trying to a baby.
As I look at father’s day today, I realized that I could have a 5 year child at this point.. and would be explaining to my child why his daddy isn't here. In a way, it was a blessing that I wasn't pregnant. I don’t know how I would take care of a child when most days I can’t take care of myself. I don’t know how I would ever explain to my child that daddy killed himself.
But in another way, it reminds me that Seth might have been a father. And I might have been a mother.
Bipolar took my husband away. It also took away a lot of things that Seth could have experienced.. such as being a father.
So today I am thinking of all you widowed parents. Who play both mom and dad. Please give yourself a huge pat on the back, it’s a huge task, and you deserve a huge hug.
Today I will wallow in what could have been. I am saddened that Seth never got to experience being a father. I am saddened by the things that will never happen.