Hard Choices

  Last June I began to face to reality of where things were going. For a long time I was in denial and I would say things like "I'd rather be miserable so that my kids can be happy", or "This situation could be worse". Excuse after excuse to keep going. I remember clearly the day that I realized that I was not doing what was best for my kids. It was a horrible day. My youngest child, who is pretty much the happiest kid I know, came in between me and my husband and said "You guys need to stop! What would Jesus do? Why is mommy crying??" . It stopped me in my tracks. I began to realize that the kids were the reason I was staying, but the kids became the reason why I needed to leave. I started to see them show signs of stress. I began to pray. I really wanted to make sure I was making the right decision. I didn't want to decide out of emotion. If I was going to do this, I needed to be clear to my husband on what I would and would not put up with, and what I wanted to see happen before I would consider reconciliation. We had once before been separated, but I don't believe we took it as seriously as we should have. This was a make or break it for me.

  A couple days later, we went to a counseling session. I said in no uncertain terms what I wanted to see. What I needed him to do and what I was willing to do. I made it clear that this was my last effort. To my shock, my husband sat in that office and very honestly said "I'm sorry, I don't think I can or want to do those things you need me to do to fix this". I was shocked. But I did appreciate his honesty even though it broke my heart. The best way to describe how I felt was abandoned. I left that office in tears. I felt broken. This was happening.

I spent the next few days praying and asking God what it was I could change to possibly change his mind. It was then that I distinctly remember feeling that I had done what I could. I gave it 2 more months and finally, in September an incident happened where I no longer had a choice. He needed to move out and I needed to follow through. Something I AM NOT good at. I asked him to start looking for a place and a lawyer. I couldn't believe this was going to be my life. After some pleading, I agreed to allow him to remain in the house until after the holidays. Those few months were PAINFUL. It was like slowly watching something die. The tension was unbearable. The anxiety even worse. My number 1 fear was telling my children that their family was breaking up. I agonized and cried over it for months, but didn't want to say anything to them until there was a definite move out date.

Finally, my husband found a place.It was coming down to the time to tell my kids. I was so nervous I didn't eat for days leading up to it. I was begging God to prepare their hearts. It was to date the worst day of my life. We sat my oldest on the couch and my husband said something to the effect of "We love you so much. You mean the world to both of us. Daddy is going to be living in a new house." I was trying to be so strong when really I wanted to crawl under the couch and die. My heart was aching worse than I have ever felt it ache before. My oldest very simply said "Okay. Am I going to see you daddy? This conversation is weird. Can I go now?". After assuring him that he would see daddy all the time, we let him go. He went into his playroom and I saw him sitting on the middle of the playroom floor with a toy in his hand and his head hanging. No tears. I crumbled. I began to feel like I was making a huge mistake. How could we hurt our kids like this? My youngest child handled it like any 3 year old would "Okay, will I have toys?" .

We decided to make that day a family day. Just the four of us spending time together to assure the kids that we were a united front as far as them being our top priority. We were driving later on that night and it was bedtime, so as usual, my husband prayed for them. At bedtime we all take turns praying. When it came around to my oldest, his prayer was this: "Jesus, thank you for this amazing day. Thank you for my brother, and my mommy and my daddy and Jesus, I pray that my daddy will love his new place. I pray that he will get closer to you and that he will be very happy. Amen."  My sweet boy. My heart broke.

That day was sobering. I began to realize the impact this was going to have on my life, and my kids lives. Everything was going to change. But I felt courage to do what had to be done. The night that my husband moved out was filled with mixed emotions. I honestly felt a sense of relief. I felt a sense of okay, time to pull yourself up by your boot straps and be a big girl now.

The kids appeared to adjust well. There were definite days of acting out, and tears over the smallest things. I would just hold them and remind them how much they were loved and that everything was going to be okay. It seemed that the more they got into the routine of going to daddies house, the better they became. I think its because they realized that daddy was still around all the time, and also, he was living in a house with 3 dogs! How exciting! I was happy to see them excited to see daddy and sleep over his house, even though to me I was feeling angry that I had to share my babies.

It's been an adjustment, but now, months later, my kids are the happiest they have been. I guess I didn't fully realize that they were feeling the tension as much as I was if not more because they didn't understand it.I'm not naive enough to think there will not be times where the kids might struggle, but I'm confident in my God and His ability to heal their hearts. I joined a group called Divorce Care (I HIGHLY recommend it!), and the leader said something that really gave me comfort. She said "When there are days when your kids hurt, you sit with them and invite Jesus into the midst of the pain". I will remember to do that. I'm so grateful for my children, I'm grateful that they know they are loved, and I'm SO thankful for the days that I have them, to wake up to their little smiles. Life is hard, but getting better and better every day!