A little history

I was cleaning out my inbox today and found a whole bunch of emails from when Steve and I were splitting up. It made me so sad to read those. And so grateful we stayed together. Emails about the apartment and divorce papers and trying so hard to do right by ourselves and each other. Emails filled with longing for good times again. Emails filled with regret for the way things turned out.
Steve and I did divorce. But we never really separated. He got his own apartment, but after a few months was staying with me almost every night. We moved back in together officially one year (almost to the day) after our initial split. I wish we had never had to end our marriage. But I think that was a big part of the reason that Steve started examining his alcohol use and abuse. He was still drinking even when we moved back in together. And I was doubting my decision constantly. Thank god for counseling.
When I read back through some of my posts from the summer and fall, I'm amazed at how awful things were before AA. Alcoholics Anonymous gave me my Steve again. I never thought that would be possible. And now he's approaching 5 months of sobriety. It doesn't sound like much, but it feels like heaven.

Today I am grateful for:
The snow falling outside. It's beautiful, even though I'm tired of winter. I get to work from home on days like this.

My new cat curled up next to me on the couch.

A warm house. A terrific job.

Another day that I don't have to wonder how drunk he'll be when he comes home.
Another day of having my partner fully present.
Another day to learn to trust each other again.
Another day to fill with love and gratitude.

Working on it

Our homework for this week, as assigned by our couples counselor, is to write down everything we're thinking and feeling about having a child. This makes a lot of sense as we're having so much trouble talking this one out. I thought I'd do my homework here:

Baby.
Yes, I definitely want one, probably two. The smart plan would be to buy a house first. But I know that life doesn't always move according to plan. And I'm off the pill now, so accidents could happen. You know, being on the pill allows relationships to avoid the biology of their existence. Before birth control, there was no living together for years to see if two people were compatible. We've had almost 7 years of trying to figure out if we could make this work. I guess I'm tired of farting around, so to speak. We love each other. We still dedicated to making it work. We're still trying, still going to counseling, still getting better, little by little. Sometimes we slip and lose intimacy. Sometimes we become frightened to show weakness and need. But the love is still there. I know we'll be great parents.
So I want to talk about it and dream about it. I want to know what he's scared of and what he's excited about. The plan may be not to get pregnant until after we have a house, but that doesn't mean the whole subject gets locked up until that time.
As for me, I like to think about being pregnant, having an infant and watching it grow. I'm surrounded by pregnant women right now, and that affects me. I think, why wait? I know finances will be tight. But I also know that I'm really good with money and I could make it work, especially if Steve were to hand that over to me. I'd budget everything out. And I'll do whatever it takes to make sure we can keep the boat.
When it comes to raising a child, I don't want it to be exposed to TV for as long as possible. I want it to read and play. And I want us to be involved in that. So I'd hope that Steve would be able to keep the TV off as much as possible.
Sometimes I think about how I'd want to teach a child about spirituality. I didn't grow up with church or religion. I pray now and believe in a higher power. How does one teach a child these things? I wonder if I should check out the UU church in town?
We walked down the baby aisle in the grocery store yesterday. 64 diapers cost $22. A baby goes thru 10-12 diapers a day. That comes out to about $3.50 a day in diapers, right? Call it $25/week. But I know I throw that kind of money around on all kinds of miscellany.
My guess is that Steve also wants a baby, but wants a house first. He's much more concerned about finances. And I think we don't talk about it because he doesn't want to have to tell me No, Not Yet.
Well, we'll see how the conversation goes. For now I'm grateful that the TV's been off a lot more. I'm grateful that we still love each other and still want to make it work. I'm grateful for a beautiful day and a warm house and a bright future. And all that is plenty for me.

Another rough night

Last night I cried and cried because he won’t reach out to me. We talked just a couple weeks ago about how I needed time with him, just being together and enjoying each others company. I need that to feel close with him, to talk about things. But the next day he told me that if something’s on my mind I have to bring it up, stop the TV and force the conversation. I feel at the end of my rope. We have counseling tomorrow and I don’t even want to go. Sunday night, after a lazy day, he reminded me about my (birth-control)pills. I asked him, half-kidding, if we could just stop. He shrugged and asked if I’d buy the condoms. Hell yes! And I just felt a thrill and a sense of relief to be off the pills, to be taking an action towards having children someday. And then the very next night, in the middle of his 3 hour nap on the couch, he asks me if he wants me to pick up the pills since it’s not too late. I told him I didn’t even know what to say to that. He rolled over and went back to sleep. We didn’t really talk for the rest of the night.
I feel so angry with him and with myself. Why do I always have to be the one to reach out, make the connection, make the effort. Last night I wanted to throw a temper tantrum. I wanted to break something, throw his clothes out the windows, scream and pound my fists into the walls.
We ended up getting distracted from our silence by a little skirmish on the street. And he held me when he finally came to bed. But I’m still frustrated. I feel like he’s not making the effort to talk when something’s wrong. So then I feel like the big baby who always has the issues, or the typical woman who always needs to talk about my feelings. And it makes me so angry.
I was also thrown for a loop when he came home and said he hadn’t gone to his meeting because there wasn’t any place to park. So he went to the office instead. This is the first time in over 4 months that he hasn’t gone to a meeting. The only other time was the middle of a blizzard, and even then he tried to go, but the church was locked up tight. When he told me he didn’t go I felt my stomach drop. I found myself searching for signs that he drank.

It was shortly after when I went upstairs and cried and cried.

I haven’t been to my Sunday AlAnon in a couple weeks, and my excuse has been all this crazy snow. But I definitely need to get myself to a meeting before I lose my mind.