Tonight, I sit in my bed, nursing my 8 week old baby, knowing that I am completely alone. I feel so many emotions in such rapid succession that I can barely adjust to one before another hits me like a wave and takes me under.
Most of all fear. I’m absolutely terrified.
I haven’t been alone in over 8 years. That’s how long my husband and I have been together. That’s how long we’ve shared our lives, our home, our kids.
Now, I’m alone… and I’m scared.
Before tonight I could walk downstairs and, if nothing else, guilt trip my husband into helping me with the kids. Sometimes he’d volunteer, and most mornings he was on point. I could call his phone and ask for a drink while I nursed or a diaper change or a few minutes for a shower. Even if he was checked out 75% of the day, there were still times when he would help, when he was present.
Now, I won’t even have that, and I’m scared.
I’m scared to face my kids and the heartbreak on their faces. I’m scared I’ll end up raising our baby by myself. I’m scared of the pilot light on the furnace going out or the toilets breaking or the sink getting clogged, all the things my husband knows how to fix. I’m scared of the exhaustion and doing it all alone.
I’m scared to be lonely.
And who is to blame for that? Is it him for pushing me to my breaking point? Or is it me for asking him to leave? Should I have tried harder or put up with these issues longer?
I feel as though I’m grieving the loss of our future. I weep for the family holidays that may never happen now or the nights when my kids will wake up with a nightmare and want Daddy to check for monsters. I’m grieving the loss of my partner, and I’m angry at him for putting all of this on me, for making me the one who is responsible for making this decision.
What have I done?
Tonight marks the first of 30 nights of separation, a month of figuring out whether our marriage will or won’t work, a month to decide if we want it to.