Getting my tubes tied...or SO just called me by BM's name.
Last weekend was NOT a skid weekend, but this coming weekend will be and I’m already dreading it. It’s Tuesday… I feel like I spend a large portion of the time that mini seahag is not here worrying about the next visit. I have a one year old and am very pregnant with our second son, due at the end of April. It’s been a very risky pregnancy and I’ve been uncomfortable 90% of the time between the bleeding and cramping and just awkward pain, which was never the case with DS1. He was a breeze to carry and outside of the daily “footsie” we played with each other, I barely knew he was in there. I think this is a hard thing for SO to understand or make allowance for because he didn’t have to the first time, and doesn’t really feel like it now…especially with DS1 walking and talking and getting into everything he possibly can.
On Sunday, SO and I were driving home from a friend’s house, he’d had a few drinks and he was hinting at frisky activity for later on… he then proceeded to call me by BM’s name. I couldn’t even muster up anger, I was hurt. I’m relatively speechless about it and can offer no excuse. He apologized and said it was a mistake and he doesn’t know why he said that because I’m nothing like her etc… but I can’t shake it. I have to put up with her spawn and all the other baggage she’s left in his life…and now I can’t even count on him to not Freudian-slip her name in there? I’m at a loss.
I had started letting loose all of my “ties” to any back up plans I had for if this relationship didn’t work out, and I’m beginning to second guess that choice.
I have been accepted into a program that should have me with a degree via night classes and online classes within two years, and my parents have been saints and said they would help me whenever they could with watching the boys. I think at this point, I need to make school and the two little ones my focus. I don’t think SO is invested much in our relationship’s success and I don’t want to continue down the rabbit hole by myself. I started a nest egg savings account he doesn’t know about, so I have some security.
I had started with my therapist again, and she was the one who pulled me through when SO and I had taken time apart two years ago. She listened to me talk and sob my way through the issues I feel like I’m having in myself, and then asked me “MissE, when you came to me a couple years ago you thought you’d hit rock bottom and you blamed SO. Now, you’re coming to me again, and the laundry list of things that you’re feeling are almost verbatim in my notes from that time…the difference now is that you’re taking that blame all on yourself.” *sigh*
Next week I meet with my OB for the normal biweekly visits I have to do now so they can monitor the heart rate and check placement…I’m going to find out about getting my tubes tied. After my boys, I want to be done having children. They’re lovely, and I adore them, but I don’t want more. I can spoil any children my brother chooses to have, or that my friends will have.
I know if I wanted a quick “out” I could go home to my parents, but I don’t want to do that at almost 27 years old. I need to grow up and accept my own choices. I made my bed here, and I either need to accept it and move on or get it together and move out. As I opened with, this is a visitation weekend. SO says it’s rude and unwelcoming for me to not be chatty and engaging with his daughter. Thinking of taking my little one on a “road trip,” for mommy-and-me time. I’m sure that’ll go over like a lead-balloon.