Chapter VII: Babies

It’s funny how life has a way of reminding you of things you don’t want to face, but should. After he told me what he had done, all I saw were babies. Everywhere.

Working in finance, its not often you see children at all. No babies in strollers around the loop, no hearing the coos and giggles of children at all really in the life I lived. In the life we lived, together.

Once I knew that he was going to be a dad, and that she decided to keep it, I saw babies. Everywhere.

The next Tuesday after his confession, after literal days of sitting motionless, sleepless in the bed we once shared together, I was forced back into reality as I had a work trip scheduled for Seattle. A work trip with one of my colleagues who had previously elicited jealous outbursts from my now ex-fiance.

I recall sitting in the waiting area as I watched the A-group board the Southwest flight. Right in front of me, was a little girl. I remember her little pink hat and how cute she was with her mom and dad; happy as could be, looking at them with awe and wonderment. My colleague, sitting next to me, somehow knew exactly what I was thinking.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

That trip was the first time we sat next to each other on a flight. After the flight took off, I put on my headphones. The first song that came on was “Goodnight Moon,” our first dance song we had practiced together not hours before he told me what he had done. For the first time since his confession, I started to tear up.

My coworker and my friend, grabbed my hand and in that moment felt safe enough to break down.

*****

Any single woman my age knows exactly why it wasn’t just the cheating that was troublesome.

Being 31 at the time, I already felt the scrutiny of that number and what it meant for what was left of my child-bearing years. I didn’t want to feel the pressure of rushing down the aisle or immediately having children. I don’t think I will ever have baby-fever, truly; however, I felt like the possibility of me, myself being a mother was drifting away slowly. I’ll admit I was angry. I was angry that he could possibly be the reason I never would have a family of my own. How dare he? How could he?

It also wasn’t just my age. It was the baby. An innocent figure not yet even born. A figure who hadn’t even taken his first breath but yet somehow already had so many people rooting for and also against him, including his own father at the time.

An unborn figure who was ultimately the reason why I wasn’t going to try to make the relationship work. Of course now, I hate now that I even considered making a relationship work with someone who is so very clearly a sociopath. In many ways though, I am grateful for the baby. If it weren’t for him, I may have stayed. I would have married a cheater. I would have had children with this person and found out later about all the times he was stepping out. He would have subjected our own children to a life of misery, divorce and, with his temper, perhaps even worse. So the truth is this baby, who was painfully given the name of what my ex-fiance wanted to name our first son, is one of the many heroes in this story.

Thank you, little dude. You saved me from marrying someone I shouldn’t have. You saved me from becoming an unwilling step mother not two months after I would have walked down the aisle. And, above all, thank you for allowing me the freedom to find myself and discover that the person I was actually meant to be with was someone else. Someone unexpected, wonderful and honest.

You deserve to have the best life. I hope you never have to know about me.

*****