Category — My Marriage

I was cleaning out my drafted posts recently and I discovered an old post I began writing late at night over a year ago. I never did publish it, in fact I forgot all about it. I’ll explain why in just a bit.

Here’s an excerpt:

Marriage is hard. Sometimes it downright sucks. I’ve heard married couples tell me they have never slept on the couch, or they have never felt like they hated the other– and I always think the same thing:

Gag.Me.With.A.Spoon.

All I can think about is the crushing disappointment that I experienced after the honeymoon phase of marriage, and how absolutely unrealistic and impractical the whole wedding/marriage experience can be when we put so much “God called me to marry this person” into it and takes logic out of the equation.

I’ve been in some form of marital counseling for more years of my marriage than not. I am 5.5 years into mine and must say that I HAVE NO FREAKIN IDEA HOW TO DO THIS THING!

…it’s been hell.

How wonderful is it to live your life in an unloving situation? And, I’m sorry, but I’m not Jesus. I’m Vivian! I have my own baggage, my own habits, my own struggles in trying to relate and express and merge. And, yes, I HAVE Jesus, but what does that mean, practically, to a girl who has heard it all and tried it all and is just, in pain?

I remember being in that much pain. It was confusing. Nothing made sense. Chris’ behavior didn’t make sense. If I was asked about my relationship in those years, it would have been tough to not cry. I didn’t know what to do.

Just 4 days after writing that draft, I discovered Chris’ infidelity. The weeks that followed were sucked into a time warp that included some of the worst pain I’ve ever experienced. It included the confession that his infidelity had begun before we were even married, that in fact it spanned back to his adolescence in the form of an addictive pattern of behaviors. I was horrified by the things I heard had happened during our marriage, as though my life was being deconstructed and an alternate timeline was emerging that was dark and perverse. I slept on the floor in my living room for weeks. My knees felt weak and there was a knot in my stomach constantly. I couldn’t work and I could barely take care of Ethan. While Chris began 12 step support groups every day and counseling and everything while living in the studio in the backyard, I was hurt and angry and embarrassed and lost. I felt divorced in every way. I had no desire to see pictures of our past, even baby pictures of Ethan pained me for a long time. One day, I decided I couldn’t have possession of my wedding ring or wedding pictures. I ripped them up and left the rings on a bench in the Pearl.

Last summer was the worst time of my life. And it was also the best.

At the time, I could barely see the light at the end of the tunnel. Even when I saw Chris devastated and broken and repentant, even when he found a decent new job and even once I decided to let him stay at the house again, I walked around in turmoil often. I felt a cloud of shame, my family couldn’t believe I had decided to stay for even one more minute, to give this any sort of chance at all. Sometimes I would be walking with Ethan around the neighborhood, enjoying his long talking streaks in the weather that was just as it is now, quickly turning to Fall, and a car would drive by and my eyes would meet with some stranger driving it. In an instant my heart would sink. They know, I thought. As though I were wearing a scarlet letter.

Still, we talked all the time. Sometimes ten hours a day. Talked and talked and talked. We rediscovered each other, the real us too, not just the best foot forward. We talked into the late hours of the morning, usually we ended up crying together before falling asleep again on the living room floor and couch. (I couldn’t go back to my bedroom after that, not until we redecorated it and painted the walls and so on.)

I didn’t trust Chris and I didn’t forgive Chris. Our marriage was broken and the thought of it only brought pain. But I put all that on one side of my existence, and decided that I would take it one day at a time in our “new” relationship. There was, in some small way, such promise in what was blossoming that I couldn’t bring myself to throw that all away just yet. I wanted to see what would happen, if this was truly a turning point. If a turning point is even a real thing. I felt my heart beginning to love this man talking to me, even when no love existed before.

I also, and this is key, felt love from Chris. Once I recognized it, I realized I had never been given it until then.

Of course, I conceived of Verity in the midst of our early reconciliation, and the news was shocking, to say the least. Some days were so dark that I actually called an abortion clinic to find out the cost. If you know me, that’s about the deepest darkest confession I could lay out there, but there it is. I felt nothing but the desire to NOT be pregnant for a long time. I cried through my early midwife appointments, began counseling for prenatal emotional health, and slowly began to bond and accept the idea of this new baby.

From the moment I saw Verity on the sonogram and gave her a name, I was in love. I didn’t regret my state after that, despite the unlikely and inconvenient timing of her arrival. I still felt insecure and ashamed when my baby bump began to grow, wondering if people thought I was only staying married because I was knocked up which was the furthest thing from the truth. But I came to terms with it. I moved through the last year one day at a time. Chris “celebrated” 1 year sober last June, one year since he did the wrong thing with his pain. He’s been in meetings and counseling all year, and recently began individual therapy to work on his “daddy issues”. We strive to work on our marriage daily, despite the distractions of bills, work, children, so on and so forth. Nowadays, our marriage looks and feels, well … normal. We have arguments, but we try to be respectful and focus on working at the problem together, rather than against each other. We spend time together, enjoy each others company, smooch when we pass each other in the kitchen, cuddle at night (among other things ), talk about our feelings, and apologize when we fail.

One of the biggest lessons I have learned this year, besides a ton about myself and a ton about communicating better and ton about how far I have to go, is that granting some one forgiveness doesn’t let them off the hook. It doesn’t mean what happened was okay. It doesn’t even mean I’m not angry. It’s not even very much ABOUT the offender or the offense, but rather the choice, when ready, to let it go in my own heart – to begin to heal.

And even if, in the long run, my marriage doesn’t make it through this, I know that I will. For all these lessons and more, I am grateful – to Chris, my community of support, my counselors, my family, my children, and of course, my Jesus.

I saw this post’s title on a job ad recently, and while I have enough sense to know that such a job would most likely be a scam, I still felt myself abrupt with an outloud, “YES!” to answer the question.

Tired. Tired of running uphill. Tired of rent, tired of excess, tired of barely making ends meet. TIRED.

It’s been six month’s since we began this community house, and its been a good process for us. But what I’m finding myself conclude lately is that IT DOESN’T END HERE. The simplifying, the community digging/relationship building, the sustainable lifestyle – we want MORE of it.

We’ve made some 5 year goals that include selling everything and living out of an RV until we have saved enough to pay off what’s left of our debt after bankruptcy, followed by the dream of buying a small plot of land and building some sort of amazing, sustainable “tiny house” on it and continuing to raise healthy, beautiful children within a community of love, love, love.

We dream of the day that we get more personal mail from loved ones than bills from collectors; When we have more potluck meals with our community than peanut butter sandwiches in separate rooms. I hear all the time people talk about the need for space, like it’s a scientific fact. I think we Americans value our space TOO much. The majority of the world lives with their family all their lives, in smaller bedrooms or no bedrooms at all. We don’t need MORE space – we need LESS space. We need to be MORE tolerant, MORE flexible, MORE selfless. We need to be more FREE of the trappings of modern life in order to be FREE to “give freely and fully to anyone who has need”.

With our goals set, the sky is currently the limit with regards to what we need to do to GET there: living in ANYthing (RV? Mobile home? Community home? Commune? In-laws? YES!), living ANYwhere (”vhaaat?! does this mean she is willing to leave PORTLAND?!!?!?!?!” YES!), that affords us the opportunity to save our money, love each other, and grant us the mental/spiritual/emotional/physical freedom to dream of what is next.

While I await the road signs of what comes next, I dream of a life of backyard pleasures, fruit trees, family meals around a fireplace, endless great books, linens drying in the sun, a family bed and a rocking chair; I also dream of friends who have become family and family who have become friends.

Sleep tight. Dream big.

(And let me know if you have a similar dream- maybe we can join efforts!)

Just a quick note that Hubby’s got his site and business cards professionally printed and ready (with a *little* design help on my end – though with the time constraint I totally just tweaked a free template for that site, duh!) and is working on networking and getting some clients to begin working from home.

If you don’t need the help, then just pass it along to some one who does! His starting rate will be affordable, which is great if you’re a small business person who just needs a little help each month when things get overwhelming, but can’t afford to hire an employee! (Yeah, I’ve been in this business too long, lol.)

Check him out:

www.chrisortecho.com

Don’t forget- I am looking for a little extra work too! Find out more here! (site under construction and rapidly changing…)

Today is birth control day! Might be extra crampy after this. If all goes well, this will have been a really great option for “closin up shop” in my womb for awhile! My heart holds the dream of a third child in the future. I’m excited to see who that little person might be, but for now, we are working on the marriage and two little people we already have with us

Interesting side note: in my circle of siblings, there will have been born FIVE new babies in a one year period of March 09 – March 10. Us Cajuns have always been kinda good at reproducin’, heh? But, sisters, seriously, SLOW DOWN! I can’t keep up with my knitting for all these new babies! LOL

Today was another, (I’m realizing its pretty much EVERY time we go out?!) behavior problem with Ethan.
In Posies, a very mom friendly coffee shop with its own playroom and everything, he constantly interrupted me and other homeschooling moms’ conversation. He ran back and forth across the main floor of the shop, even darting out the door. He refused to pick up 5 things in the playroom when it was time to go (a rule of the playroom). Because of this, I told him he need to take a nap because he was acting too tired to have friends over (William and Brianna were scheduled to come back to our backyard and play). He threw a fit the whole way home because Misty carried his bike back in her car (he walked it all the way there because he has officially removed the training wheels and wanted to practice riding at the park, but then refused to take it home. And then threw a fit when Misty took it FOR him.)

Back home, he and I melted down. I was sobbing. SOBBING. I told Chris how I feel like the harder I try, the worse things get. I don’t know who he is anymore. I don’t know why he won’t listen to me. I don’t know what to do. I try to understand, I try to set reasonable boundaries and then let him be him otherwise. Even Chris has been really good to him the passed few days, trying to listen better and empathize and be less physically dominating (something I think most guys find hard). Yet Ethan and I are in tears again today, and he is telling me he doesn’t like me anymore. Of course, I reaffirm how much I love him, no matter what. But it is SO hard to hear this from a 4 year old. A 14 year old, I can expect that, but 4?!

Seriously, sometimes I find myself not wanting to leave the house with him. Maybe I should just stay inside until he is old enough and this phase is over? No, that’s not the answer. He needs outings, he needs socialization, he needs physical energy outlets.

And since 90% of my life is about my kids’ needs, I do what I always do – I keep looking for answers.

I found this article on ivillage. She sounds just like me describing Ethan. He seems to love the baby so much, but his frustration is coming out at Chris and I and he “JUST WON’T LISTEN!” I am realizing now that this article has a good point. He is old enough to know he can’t hurt the baby, so his anger comes out on us. As the article points out: “When your daughter is able to safely release some of her angry feelings toward the new baby then she will be able to stop acting out.”

I’m scared to do this. I’m scared that complaining about the baby or pointing out how hard she can be will give him too much fuel at which to direct towards her. It is scary to open that door and allow for him to not like certain things about having a baby around. I have this idea that in my home, we’ll just focus on loving each other and being respectful to each other and that the pieces will all just gel together like one big harmonious union. HA! DOUBLE HA!

What do you think? Should I try it? Do you think that if he can release his angry feelings towards the baby he will stop acting out? God, I can’t wait for the day that Ethan is normal again. This has put so much strain on me and on our marriage, its unbelievable.

I love the coast – so far any coast I see I’ll take. I might even settle for the bank of a nice big pond, LOL

I moved to the Pacific NW over 2 years ago from Florida, where I had grown up on the Florida gulf coast for the previous two decades (pretty much either right on the water or within ten minutes away). And yet only once have I made a very brief trip to the beach here in Oregon: since we sold our car so shortly after moving here, out of city trips were a luxury we just couldn’t afford.

Well, some incredibly awesome friends from church let us use their vehicle these passed 2 weeks in exchange for transporting them to the airport. I really hoped we could make it out of the city as a family in this small window of time that we had transportation, and today we headed off faster than you can say “Road Trip!” (Of course, with a baby and a 4 year old, you could say “road trip” about a million times and we’d still be fighting about who packed what, who changed the diaper last, who needs to go pee before we go, who brought water bottles, and who still needs to put their freakin’ shoes on. Needless to say, we did eventually leave the house.)

So we headed out (late) this morning on Hwy 30. First stop? Just over an hour away: Astoria, OR – famous in our household for being the filming location of the family favorite Goonies movie. I liked this city- a lot. It wasn’t touristy, it was like a little micro-Portland with local/organic cafes, independently owned book and toy stores, and an old, DIY eclectic kinda feel. We ate a scrumptious lunch, a delicious vegetarian fare at the Blue Scorcher (thanks for the recommendation, Lacey!) and then headed out to our next location: Seaside.

Seaside was entirely different, but still a lot of fun. We walked down Broadway street, which is kinda like Coney Island-ish, with its shaved ice stands and bumper cars and arcade and cheesy tourist shops. But there was lots to do there and I could definitely get why its a nice vacation spot. We spent a good deal of time dipping our feet in the water down at the beach, but it was starting to get chilly and we were getting ready for dinner, so after a brief Ethan melt-down at the showers, we hopped back into our loaned automobile and brisked off to Canon Beach.

Canon Beach might look different from a fresh start on a day, but since we were kinda “done” at this point, the three places we walked in to eat in the bustling, quaint city center were either too full or too expensive. We ended up splitting a small pizza between the three of us and heading home halfway satisfied with our experience of the third and final coastal destination.

Slideshow of pictures below, followed by some stills of my very favorite image captures from the day:

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What a day.

There are moments like these, interruptions into my normal level of surviving, functioning and even optimism, in which I feel the stone in my gut and the acid in my chest again. It might be briefly- the back of my eyes burn as water floods and blurs my vision for just a moment until I take a breath and regain control.

The moments happen whenever I tap into something deeper than daily life: during worship at church; a talk with a friend that goes beyond the initial jokes and into the layers; a movie with a related character experiencing grief; the hours I labored with Verity; the rare moments of intimacy in my marriage…

I want to do what I’ve always done so well, you see? I want to be somewhere, up above the pain, fluttering above the current. I don’t want to feel it all – I don’t want to relive anything or allow myself to “go there”. I don’t want to consider the possibility of this happening again, the unpredictable nature of this relationship’s longevity, the ideals and morals and fabrics and dreams – all just flimsy constructs in the face of the animal that consumed my marriage and regurgitated a broken, fragile, almost-hopeless couple who once wanted to be husband and wife – standing in a stupid purple expensive church nearly 7 years ago; now they simply want the chance to be with each other, against all odds. But I ask myself every day is that is enough. Are some things broken beyond repair? I’m not sure. It’s what I’m waiting to find out, I guess. And repair isn’t what I’m after, really. I don’t want to be a “refurbished model” of marriage. I want to be made completely whole again.

Not long ago, we talked about suffering in church. A quote was shared that struck me, and continues to strike me at the core, and I sit with it:

“I believe like a child that suffering will be healed and made up for, that all the humiliating absurdity of human contradictions will vanish like a pitiful mirage, like the despicable fabrication of the impotent and infinitely small Euclidean mind of man, that in the world’s finale, at the moment of eternal harmony, something so precious will come to pass that it will suffice for all hearts, for the comforting of all resentments, of the atonement of all the crimes of humanity, of all the blood that they’ve shed; and it will make it not only possible to forgive but to justify what has happened.” – Dostoevsky, Brothers Karamazov

If you know what it is I’m talking about in this post, the lingering effects and fiery after sparks of the climaxing event in my marriage last summer, you might be able to understand what I mean when I speak of finding some hope in that quote, as well as some turmoil. I’m beginning to see how I could forgive, but justify? Do I even want the “humiliating absurdity of [Chris'] contradiction” to be justified?

I might flutter above the current on a daily basis, but sometimes I’m pushed back down, or willfully I dip back down, or the current comes right up and grabs my legs and PULLS me down… and it is those instances that I refer to as the “moments” in the start of this post.

And I ask God every day in one way or another: “Help me to believe that You can restore me.”

Boy, I feel a bit out-of-body lately. This tends to happen when major life changes are upon me. I just check out to survive it, check back in when things are a bit more calm! Me and my gosh darn less-than-optimal coping skillz.

Let’s recap…

I moved into a community house with another family in March. BIG CHANGE! A very, very good one, I might add!

I had my second baby in April, at home in my shower no less. BIG CHANGE!!! An awesome one, of course.

I’m starting to unschool/homeschool again and actually getting together with other moms weekly and so on. And once you’ve got a homeschooling “group”, it’s like, official. All of that is also a good thing! The more I invest in Ethan’s life, the more in love with my kid I fall. And the more I see him with his peers, the more I realize he is just fine. Right on track, actually, lol.

For another thing, my husband and I have just celebrated our first year married. I say that because I really don’t feel we were ever married before he began recovery. We have discovered in this year an ever increasing intimacy with each other, something that can only come out of a relationship of honesty and respect. So WOOT for that too!

Okay, so what about the not-so-great changes???

I’ve slowly gotten back to work over the last 2 months, as Verity is now 2 months old (yeek!). But Chris’ work is slowing down and any day or week now they will finally clue in their employees on their official layoff date. The combination of my lost income from unpaid “leave” of my freelancing during Verity’s arrival with my husband’s impending layoff has left us with little option but to declare bankruptcy. A big, big decision, I know. I’ve written before about our use of credit cards to make ends meet (above our means!) through college, and how we joined a consolidation service 1.5 years ago. That was a saving grace up until now, because the loss of my income for the last few months made it impossible to pay our creditors on time, and now they have begun to withdrawal us from the program along with it’s wonderfully low interest rates. Catching up, which has seemed to work well for us in the past, is no longer possible. We simply have no way to pay back our debt at this point, and we have made the decision and begun taking steps to file.

Lucky for us, this should be a very straightforward case, one that I’m so far confident that I can actually do “pro se” (without a lawyer), but we’ll see. Being that we have zero assets (no home, no car, no investments, no nothin), we make well below the state average (to pass what’s called the “means test” for filing Ch.7 bankruptcy), and we have been in a counseling/consolidation service for 1.5 years until this recent double whammy of new baby and layoff, I’m convinced at this point that hiring a lawyer to protect, well, the zero assets we have is kinda pointless. So for the next few months (hopefully less!) I’ll be studying my arse off to learn all I need to file and get started on a new life of actually having the money to pay my bills each month without playing the catch up game. Here, here!

Which leads me to the OTHER big, BIG change… hubby has an appointment to get snipped in a few weeks. AH! This is a tough one for me. I can’t say that I never want to have another child, in fact I’d love more than 2 kids. However, all things considered, I believe its the wisest decision for us. Will I be freaking out and wondering how I feel about this for the next few weeks? Heck yes. But perhaps once its over and behind us, I’ll be free to consider the future without the possibility of more children and move on. I love kids, but I fear that having a “quiver full” wouldn’t be the best decision for us, given all the relational, parental, and financial issues we are muddling through. I trust God to not give me more than I can handle, but I also like to think He trusts me to utilize my common sense. So… yeah, I dunno.

Oh Lordy. Yep, 2009 will be THE YEAR of big changes for us. We’ll just have to roll with them, one day at a time.

What does it mean to live a full life? To live every moment to the fullest? Sometimes I look at my life and think… my… this is rather drab.

In doing some, ahem, research for Chris’ soon-to-be-launched dadblog, I discovered this guys bio and thought, now that’s an interesting person, lol.

You know the feeling, the itch, the urge, you get every now and then to DO SOMETHING GREAT? I get bored easily, I suppose. Having a baby was my last big accomplishment, and it wasn’t that terribly long ago (8 weeks almost! Woah!) My next big accomplishment will likely be declaring bankruptcy, which is not exactly something I’d put on my list of things I’m proud of

Now, I know the everyday tasks of working and mothering are pretty grand, as uneventful as they may sound in comparison to riding elephants in Sri Lanka! But I don’t really want to look back on my twenties and remember ONLY the unspectacular everyday things I did. So many moms say this but, but… “I used to have dreams!” lol

Okay, I’m getting to a point here, I swear.

Chris and I have been talking about backpacking Europe (probably staying in hostels and mostly doing just one location — we are thinking Barcelona) for our 10 year anniversary. Which is in 3.5 years. We’ve had this idea for some time, and I personally wanted to take off to Europe with a backpack since even BEFORE Rory and Lorelai did it

This will require much planning, much saving, grandparents willing to watch the tots (this shouldn’t be too hard! lol), … and a vasectomy. But I want to announce it on my blog because I want a bit of accountability to work towards this goal.

Sometimes the survival of the “day to day” keeps us from seeing too far into the future. I hesitate to make a playdate for next week! But I don’t want to neglect the importance of making room for a few great experiences too. Life HAS to be about more than just paying bills on time, heh?

I’ll try to keep the blog posted as we intentionally work towards this goal. I’m going to start a little push pin board in my room dedicated to this plan. A nice little visualization tool, ha!

So, back to my original question- what does it mean to live a full life? What does it mean to you? Do you have some rare and amazing adventure to look back on or that you are planning for? I wonder what you guys dare to dream about…

I am exhausted (and possibly feverish?) and low on words this evening, but I feel the need for even just a quick, public response to Chris’ vulnerable and endearing post last week. I haven’t written at length about the process we have been on as a couple, and I’ve tried to seldom speak for him about the changes he is making. I welcome his need to journal at mamaneedjava.com from time to time and hope that his writings are useful to whoever reads them. To me, the Chris who writes like that, who rubs my feet each night, who goo goo’s over his children and expresses his dreams and regrets– is a different man from the one I was married to over a long 5.5 year process before the covenant-breaking choices he had been making were confessed and he began the hard work of repentance.

This year hasn’t been an easy one for me, but it’s been a slow light at the end of a dark tunnel of mistrust and fear. I see progress, not perfection — and a man who at last appears to see what he has right in front of him. I am grateful for his desire and actions to allow God access to his heart and secrets, in order to change him from the inside out. I am grateful to God for bringing me to my knees as well, and showing me where I have contributed to the system of our relationship- which was dysfunctional and dead. I pray we never return to that state again. I’m grateful to God for holding me tightly and safely, even when I hated him for what seemed like His betrayal sometimes.

I am grateful to those who stood by me in my decision to stay married – the elders, friends, coworkers, strangers, counselors, family. Our marriage staying together, one day at a time, truly “took a village”. And continues to. From childcare to meals to financial assistance to prayer to counsel to a simple but profound thing — a listening ear; I will never forget the kindness shown to me (to us, even) when things truly hit the fan.

I’ll close with some quotes to Chris from one of my favorite writers…

A man who is eating or lying with his wife or preparing to go to sleep in humility, thankfulness and temperance, is, by Christian standards, in an infinitely higher state than one who is listening to Bach or reading Plato in a state of pride.
–C. S. Lewis

This is one of the miracles of love: It gives a power of seeing through its own enchantments and yet not being disenchanted.
–C. S. Lewis

What saves a man is to take a step. Then another step.
–C. S. Lewis