I am a happily divorced mom or as I like to refer to myself an HDM. Yes I mean it HAPPY. I say happy because even though I was a serial romantic prior to having my child, I fundamentally believe that many men who become fathers are not fit to parent. Now before all the men go off in a huff, do not take this the wrong way. I am talking about most men not ALL men. I do believe it is just as possible to be an HDD (Happily Divorced Dad). Not only do I believe that because I am an eternal optimist, but also because I have witnessed some men who were better at parenting than many women I know and in couples who are still trying to stick together. So just to be clear when I refer to myself as an HDM I am also aware there are some HDDs out there – cheers you guys! And I do hope to meet one sometime so we can enjoy wonderful years of retirement together, as I firmly believe it takes and HDD to understand an HDM.
But I derail, this is not about me meeting my future soul mate, this is about how I became an HDM. If I dig back to my first realization that my marriage was not going to work it would have to be the day I was going to be released from the maternity ward to go home with my baby. My, at the time husband, had been rejoicing all week, as I had been away since 7 days (long birthing story which will be the subject of another blog). No the birthing did not take 7 days, it did take over 48 hours though and then I was kept with the baby at the maternity for an extra 5 days since I had had a C-section (more on that later). So he had been looking forward to the day mom and baby came home so we could finally start our life as a family and I had been looking forward to that too. On the other hand what I had not expected was how anxious I would feel about the long drive (35 mins) home. After all this was the first time the baby would leave the safety of the maternity ward and be exposed to a moving car…I was concerned, would the jiggling about in his car seat do any brain damage? Would he survive the distance without needing to breast feed? I know all of these concerns are completely irrational, but I think anyone who has given birth knows that we have to allow ourselves those kinds of irrational thoughts for anything up to the first year after birth.
So given all my concerns, I had timed it perfectly, he had been breast fed, changed and ready to go and then we were left waiting for 90 minutes for a doctor to come and see me just to say I could go. I was growing impatient and more and more anxious so at one point I rose and said forget this, let’s just go! My husband (the eternal stickler for following procedures and rules) insisted that we stay and actually physically held me back. As we were just about to start this fight, the doctor came in and released me (lucky for my husband as I am sure I would have won the physical struggle!) That incident stayed engraved in my mind. I mean what was he afraid of? We would never have been accused of kidnapping our own baby!! Nor was this a mental asylum that I needed to be checked out of. Also I would have informed the reception that we were leaving and would have been happy to come in for a further checkup if needed….but NO! IT WAS IMPORTANT WE FOLLOW THE RULES…..so important that this began the first injury in a series of injuries to our relationship where instead of supporting me and standing by me, he stood in my way.