edited to add: It turns out all they could hear was me ranting and crying. They couldn’t hear specifically what I was saying. They were just sad for me as in their words “daddy doesn’t love mummy enough any more”. While this makes me sad, I am going to take this as the universe giving my daughters the chance that I didn’t have. They have the chance to go through life knowing they were wanted and loved. This is the last I will ever mention it.
I never really believed in having regrets. Even the worst thing I have ever done, I have learnt from. The good and bad shape who you are and I have always tried to keep that in mind. While other people tend to try to take things back that were said in anger, I haven’t. I am known for being brutally honest and at times cold. I don’t mean to appear cold, I just don’t believe in lying, even if it hurts.
The other night we ended up in another blue. He refuses to say anything, always trying to seem reasonable and I get angrier and angrier and more and more unreasonable. While he remains calm and rational I get loud and bitter. While I was yelling and screaming like the crazy person I am, I was not aware that down the hall my 11 & 10 year old daughters were lying awake listening to my bitter diatribe. Not a single thing I said was untrue, but they didn’t need to hear me scream about the woman who almost destroyed our marriage 8 years ago or the fact that their father is a compulsive liar and womaniser. But I could make my peace with that. But what I said next can’t be taken back. They can never unknow it. They heard me say that their father didn’t want them. I feel sick just thinking about it.
I was 8 years old when I first discovered I was an “accident”. Up until that point I was safe in the knowledge that I was loved and wanted. As time passed I discovered more. My dad couldn’t stand my mum, but his extremely catholic mother insisted they be married. Not only did my dad not want to be married, but he didn’t want a child. That child was me. Even with “grown up” logic that I know means that it wasn’t my fault. That the accidental pregnancy that resulted in me could not even remotely be my fault. Deep down I feel like I caused the destruction of the life my father really wanted. I feel like it was inevitable that he would eventually never want to see me again. Its been almost 9 years since my father has spoken to me. He has never even met the twins. Somewhere deep down I still feel this is my fault.
note: I wrote several in depth versions of the awful things that he said and did when finding out I was pregnant each time…but I just couldn’t bring myself to leave them up. He may have been upset/stressed/worried/bitter when he discovered I was pregnant. He may have even had massive issues in understanding our second daughter (she has aspergers and OCD) but at the end of the day he is a great dad NOW.
He is a great dad now and I am the one that said the most awful things that they didn’t need to hear. What sort of mother am I?