Even More On The One Man That I Would Love Forever: Giving Up, And Getting Out

[This is the sixth Blog post either about or directly referencing this man. All of this coverage is important in my documenting the scope of this relationship that I had with him, because of his significance in my life. Not only is he the human being that I have loved more than any other in my life, but Jim is the only person that I am related to by blood because of our having our child, a son, together. Jay was created from the two of us, and from whatever this thing was between us, all those years ago. He is living in this world, now, only because of this relationship, of ours. These two things, and more, give Jim a very special meaning, and place, in my life, and heart. Those other posts, which provide alot of other information about this relationship between Jim and I, our dating, our son, & our marriage, are dated 4/3/19, 6/26/19, 7/10/19, 7/24/19, 8/7/19.]

I was already dealing with so much, as an expectant mother, in a bad marriage, with very little emotional support from Jim. On top of all the stress that I was already feeling from all of these things, Jim's father came to visit us. By this time, my disdain for both him and his son, for how each of them was treating me, was bubbling up from beneath the superficial sociability which I struggled to maintain with each of these men. His coming there made this situation even more awkward for me. It already felt like this place wasn't really my home, with Jim, because of how upset and unwanted his behaviors caused me to feel, as his wife. This visit was a straw on an already broken camel's back for me! Jim's dad stayed downstairs in the guest room, which we had created in the lower level of this 3-story townhouse since there was only our bedroom and the baby's nursery on the upper floor, with the livingroom, kitchen, and front entry being on the middle floor. (We had originally created that guest room downstairs to have somewhere for my mother to sleep, when she came to visit for about a week, after the baby was born, to help me while I recovered some from the difficult delivery, and to get better adjusted to the demands of caring for a breastfeeding newborn.) When I say that Jim's dad stayed in the guest room, that is exactly what I mean, too. This man stayed down in that room, all day long, for the most part, while Jim was at work. Being acutely, and uncomfortably, aware of our having this guest, down there, wanted by me or not, I would try to talk with him, calling to him from the stairs, so as not to simply walk in and invade his privacy. He would barely even respond to me, then, and when I invited him to come upstairs, to at least eat lunch, he would refuse. His actions caused me to feel even more uncomfortable about having him there than I had already felt, if that were even possible, and I resented that. Although it was obvious that we didn't like each other much at all, he never really tried to at least make an effort with me, there, in this situation. His behavior only underscored how unwanted I was, by both Jim and his family. I had tried not to let this rejection of me, by Jim's dad, hurt me. It was certainly nothing new to me, that he acted this way toward me. Still, it really did hurt alot! I was family now. Jim's and my having a baby together was now linking us by our bloodline! Jim's parents had adopted him, so they were not actually related to him. The only time Jim's dad was warm or friendly to me during the day, while Jim was at work, was when he would go out for a walk and he wanted me to agree for him to take Butterbar with him, which I did. Those walks seemed to be something that they both enjoyed doing, and I was relieved there was something that brought each of them some happiness, during those days.

Jim and his dad went out together in the evenings after Jim got home from work. Then the two of them would return to the townhouse talking jovially together as they came in, with me feeling so shut out, and left out, by them both. When I tried to be gracious to Jim's dad, he never really responded to my efforts to do that toward him. So, by the end of his visit, I really did not go out of my way to try to be that way toward him, anymore. He could see the strain between Jim and me. I am sure that he completely blamed me for that, also. I knew that this really conservative-seeming, very judgmental man, who had chastised me for holding hands in public with his son, when we dated (which Jim had initiated, with me!), had no idea of the type of things that I knew his son had done, and was capable of doing. Jim's dad looked down on me, as a person, and he coldly made that clear to me. But he had NO idea who his son truly was! He only knew his facade; so really, their relationship was based on a lie in that sense. Jim was very good at and very comfortable with deception; but I was neither. Clearly, family loyalties are based on many things, but the truth is not always one of them! I knew that this man would never believe those things of Jim, even if he had been told about them which, of course, I didn't do, while seething with frustration, anger, and hurt inside about all this crap. Jim lovingly, enthusiastically, brought bags of his father's favorite foods home, from their shopping trips, so that his father would feel welcome, and wanted in Jim's home. It was understandably special for him that his father was visiting. But my front row seat to the obvious contrast, between how Jim treated his father, and even our dog, and he treated me, was painful for me to witness, because it demonstrated that Jim was still completely capable of being the caring, communicative, person he had also been with me, when we first became involved with one another in Biloxi, but that he chose not to be that way with me now. The exact reasons for this change in him, toward me, were never clear to me. When Jim had taken me out to eat or gotten me groceries, during our marriage, he had done so apathetically, and unenthusiastically, without this obvious, loving, look of pleasure on his face he had from having brought all this into our home for his father. This difference was so glaring that it hurt me to see it. His father came into OUR home, but wouldn't even be social, or civil, with me, all day long. Then, in the evenings, those two were so warm and open with one another, that it just felt like another hostile, unaccepting, slap in the face, to me, by them, as I carried Jim's and my son, and this man's grandson, during this behavior of theirs, toward me.

Throughout the course of our relationship, once that hedonistic side of his dual, Gemini, nature reared (what I saw as) its ugly head, and overshadowed the shy, sweet, staunch side of him he had first showed me (which was the person I had fallen in love with), Jim did certain things that either frightened me or angered me. To add insult to injury, with that, he was both unrepentant and unapologetic about all of those things. This definite down side, to my relationship with him, caused me to feel violated by and uncertain of him. These were an affront to what I saw as the sanctity of our very involved and intimate relationship, especially since I was living with him, as his girlfriend, when these things began, with him, and was later married to him, which he chose to do with me (since we could have had the baby without actually marrying one another, as we had originally planned on doing when I first told him I was pregnant). These behaviors, by him, left me with, first, lingering, and then, lasting, safety concerns, for my physical, emotional, and mental well-being. Physically, I did not want to risk some STD, due to what appeared to be his far-flung sexual escapades, at times. I was monogamous, when sexually active, primarily due to this very concern, because my health has always been very important to me. My sentiment about it was that "No lay in the world is worth dying over!" Despite how good our sex life was, together, that is also how I felt toward Jim, and my physical vulnerability from being with him if he weren't going to also be monogamous, which he had seemed to be, in the beginning of our relationship; up until I fell in love with him. Emotionally, I felt continually hurt, and confused, by this change in him, especially since I was, in fact, his live-in girlfriend while we were stationed at Keesler Air Force Base together. Due to these things I was deprived of any possibility of my having peace of mind about our relationship ever again, at all. I never recovered from the loss and lack of feeling trust in my relationship with Jim which absolutely constitutes all the reasons that, even though I was still completely in love with him, I did divorce him, and, I was fine with him moving on, to marry Linnea. I knew that I would not ever want him back, because, for me, there was no way to ever be able to trust him, again, with my heart, my body, or anything else.

These were the reasons why I became so hurt and angry that for decades I didn't even KNOW that I even still cared about him, AT ALL, at least consciously. Looking back NOW, I can finally see clearly that many, if not most, of my decisions in life, after I divorced him, to set him free of me and our marriage, were various forms of my 'acting out' due to my profound grief over, and deep love for, Jim. I felt I had, or rather, was left (by him) with, no other choice, but to divorce him, though, because it had gotten to the point that, all things considered, about his past and present behaviors toward me, I truly didn't know what he was capable of, even going beyond these already troubling things. Once, near the end of my pregnancy, I told Jim how I could no longer even see my own feet, when I was standing, or walking, because of my big belly, and how that was causing me to become quite clumsy. I told him how I had almost tripped, on the long sidewalk of various steps, leading down to the street where our mailbox was, just the day before! As Jim left for work, he went out the front, instead of the back door, to the garage, but as I noticed him in the front yard for a few minutes, I didn't think anything of it. When I went to get the mail, a little later that morning, I DID TRIP AND FALL, because the autumn leaves had somehow covered our entire set of steps, from the front door all the way down to the mailbox! After I struggled to stand up again, from my going down, belly first, to the ground, fearing this fall had possibly hurt the baby, I FROZE IN FEAR, as I saw that the ONLY set of steps which had ANY leaves on them, out of all those from the half dozen or so townhomes attached side by side, was OUR STEPS! Our townhome was not even on the end of the row, but NONE of the others had ANY leaves covering their steps! It LOOKED like EVERY leaf had, somehow, either blown ONLY onto OUR steps, or were arranged that way, to cover our steps! Then, as I went back inside, in some pain from the fall I just had, and realizing I could have lost the baby if my tripping had been any worse, I remembered seeing Jim, lingering in the front yard, for a few minutes, that morning, for some reason. Later, I never asked him what he had been doing out there, earlier, because frankly, with all the other strange changes in his behavior, after we were married, I WAS AFRAID TO FIND OUT what might be going on, even if I had been able to get him to communicate with me, or be honest with me, which were already difficult, in this relationship with him, as it was. This happening REALLY SHOOK ME UP, though! I can't say for sure that he did anything with the way the leaves were, although I can say that their ONLY COVERING MY ROUTE TO THE MAILBOX, on the very day that I had told Jim that I ALMOST fell outside, looked suspicious, to say the least! [Reference a street level photo of 3806 Gayle Avenue Bellevue, Nebraska 68123, where we were living then, to see exactly how this looked: https://www.redfin.com/NE/Bellevue/3806-Gayle-Ave-68123/home/63942380 ]

If you watch much local, or national, news, or ever see TV shows like Dateline, and 20/20, this may not sound to you like I am somehow being 'paranoid' or overly suspicious, at all. Statistics sadly show that, for a woman, the most dangerous, potentially deadly, place that she can ever be is at her very own home, and within her most intimate relationship with her significant other (husband, etc.). There is no shortage of such stories about women who are severely injured or even murdered, in various ways, by either their boyfriend or husband. When those stories are first reported, I almost always assume that the woman's man is the culprit, which proves to be the fact, in almost every case like this. These TV reports vividly portray how these men coldly seek to get rid of the woman in their life, to get them out of their way, so that they can pursue another love interest, et cetera, without pain or penalty to themselves. They think that they can avoid the time and expense involved in the divorce process, and/or possibly having to part with their money by being ordered by the court to pay alimony, child support, or both. All these men, doing these things to their women, are thinking or caring about then is getting themselves free, to pursue their own goals and interests unencumbered by these women they once loved, more often than not and, sometimes, child(ren), who just seem like a burden that they want off their back. If you are aware of this truly terrifying trend, you will understand why this next thing that happened shook me up so much, prompting me to start the divorce from Jim soon afterward!

I was breastfeeding our son, in the beginning. I had learned that it was important, for the baby, because it provided alot more health benefits to the child than my not doing this; and from the start, I had always wanted for our son, Jay, to have a happy, healthy, life! Because I needed to be completely accessible to the baby, to meet his needs for nutrition, this way, I was still in the townhouse, in the marriage, with Jim. In the meantime, I continued trying to gauge the situation between Jim and I, the best that I could, given his ongoing lack of communication with me. He wasn't saying 'Go', but he wasn't saying 'Stay', either; and I really had no idea at all how he felt about me, the marriage between us, or the baby. I was told what a mother ingests gets into her breast milk and, depending on what it is, can potentially harm the baby. Because of that, I was not back on The Pill, for birth control, for the duration of these many weeks. I had allowed Jim, who was always a person that was curious about trying, and experiencing, NEW things, in his life, to suckle some of my breast milk, to see what it tasted like, when he asked me if he could. It was nice to see him taking, at least some, interest in the process of how I was caring for our child. However, when he suddenly reached over to try to fondle my breast in a sexual manner, one morning, without even one word said to me beforehand, or any 'romancing me' at all, after his being almost totally uncommunicative with me through everything that I was going through with, and because of, him, I abruptly pushed his hand away from me, in disgust and disbelief. I couldn't imagine him even THINKING that I would be STUPID enough to risk getting pregnant by him AGAIN, after what I had just gone through, because of that happening to me! He didn't have HIS body TAKEN OVER by the baby, for nine full months, or experience all the Morning Sickness, or get the genital warts, and have to be celibate because of them, and all the other discomforts I had endured, while feeling so alone because of how he had treated me through all that. He hadn't been LOVING toward me, throughout the marriage, and even really before that, and had never done anything to indicate that he was emotionally, or in any OTHER way, invested in having our marriage continue on, or work out between us. It just felt literally like a 'cheap shot' by him, leaving me both shocked and disgusted that it was the BEST HE COULD DO, toward me, as his WIFE. I told him, then, that I was not having ANY SEX AT ALL, unless or until I was BACK ON BIRTH CONTROL, and that wouldn't be happening as long as I was breastfeeding our son, due to my concerns, at the time, that it would get into my breast milk.

One evening, Jim prepared to go somewhere after work, for the entire evening, AGAIN. I was indifferent to this, by this time. Tired of having my hopes up, and my heart broken, over him, I had already shut down toward him emotionally, now, too, and felt mostly pervasive resentment toward him, anymore. I saw that he was looking in the fridge, bent down behind its door, right before he left, and he asked me if I was planning to eat the leftover Sweet 'N Sour Asian meal, which I had cooked, and we'd both eaten for our dinner the night before, for my supper tonight. Thinking that perhaps he wanted to have that, I responded that if he didn't want it, then I would be eating it. As I headed upstairs to change the baby's diaper in the nursery, he told me he had left that food for me to eat, and he left for yet another unknown (to me!) destination. Sometime during that evening, soon after I had eaten that food, I suddenly started having hallucinations, which was VERY SCARY TO ME! NOTHING like that had EVER happened to me, before, and I was home all alone, with our baby! I was both trying to figure out what was going on, with me, and function, as colorful images flashed across my mind, or my eyes, appearing like fireworks, and things. The baby started crying, to be breast fed, sometime during this, after I had put him to bed, for his own safety, whenever this had started happening to me. I stumbled to make him a bottle, from the kitchen, instead, to try to quiet him, but would not even pick him up, because of whatever was happening to me now. I think I had reasoned that I couldn't call an ambulance, because I thought they would assume I had just been some irresponsible mother, doing drugs, of some kind, with my baby in the house, when that was not the case at all; and take my baby away from me. Of course, Jim had already gone out, to some unknown destination, and I had no way to contact him. As I have said in previous posts, there were no cell phones back then.

So, I went in our bedroom, to lay down, myself, trying my best to cope with this hallucinogenic experience I was having; feeling very frightened, and unsure what was going on! My breasts began to hurt a lot, very quickly, with an agonizing soreness caused by them being so full of milk, after my having suddenly stopped breastfeeding, Cold Turkey, the way I had, to protect my son. I started to shiver, from either the pain I was in from that, an associated fever perhaps, or even whatever was causing me to see these weird lights, trailing, and exploding, before my eyes which my closing them didn't stop. At some point, I heard Jim's voice, as he stood by the bed, in the dark room, saying, "WHAT HAPPENED?" I froze, in fear, hearing him saying that, because he had LEFT our townhouse JUST AFTER ASKING what I would be EATING for my supper that night. Also, it would be normal for both me and the baby to be in bed, even asleep, this time of night, now. So, since he had been GONE all evening, HOW would he even KNOW that ANYTHING AT ALL had "happened"? Because of this, all I could believe was HE had put SOMETHING in MY FOOD; perhaps to CAUSE me to stop breastfeeding Jay, finally, so that I would get on birth control and could, or would, have sex with him again, now. For WHATEVER reason he might have done that, to me, and I could see NO OTHER EXPLANATION, for this, I was left feeling REALLY AFRAID OF HIM, and what ELSE he MIGHT do, after that, prompting me to want to divorce him, and very soon, for my, and the baby's, own SAFETY. There's never been enough time passing for me to forget these strange things that happened, however they happened, which caused me to feel very distrustful of, and even frightened by, my husband!

I do not recall ever going onto The Pill then, though, during the remainder of our time together. Or us ever having sex, with one another, again, after all these things I had gone through, with and because of him. Because our sex life used to be so very good, I would remember, then, if we had that very enjoyable experience together, again, after the baby came. Especially due to my being so much in love with Jim, I don't think I could have forgotten the emotional impact on me, if we had ever become intimate with one another again. Or the added heartbreak, if I had, that would surely have come my way, after that. At this point, in the situation, I think that I was so disgusted by, and distrustful of, him, that I just didn't want him anymore! I had wondered if this reaction toward him, by me, when he knew I had found him completely irresistible, before, was part of the reason that I would soon discover that he had questioned whether our son was even his! Because of what that said about how he thought of ME, it even further added insult to injury, in my relationship with him, turning me off toward him even more. Jim always seemed to think that he could 'write his own rules' in our relationship, often doing very one-sided acts that I don't think for one minute he would have wanted me to have done to him. He behaved in any way he wanted, at any time, without expecting any consequences to come from that, as far as how I would naturally react to being treated in those ways. Even though my feeling attracted to him ran extremely deep in me, these negative emotions, which had been accumulating in me, toward him, from all of his selfish, and sinful, behaviors, which impacted me, ran even deeper through me. I honestly can't recall one single time, at any point, while living at the townhouse together, that Jim and I ever became romantically or sexually involved with one another again.

For me, he had trashed himself, and in the process of that, our relationship with one another. His never acknowledging any of this, or apologizing, put a strain on the already torn fabric of what had held us together, at all, in the first place, ultimately ripping it-- and 'us'-- apart. With  no repentance from him, for all this, toward me, there was no way to turn back, or even try to repair the damage he had caused by all of this. It was over; because it had to be. If Jim had  not wanted this outcome, then he wouldn't have behaved as he did. I didn't want it this way at all, but knew that I could never be happy, living with so little from this man. Yes, we had great sex, together, back when we used to do that, but, it seemed he was giving his cock too much credit. There is alot more, to a relationship, than what happens in bed. And now, there was a baby to think about too, as far as what quality of life we should have in this home, and in our new family. What Jim offered me, in total, was way less than what I was willing to accept, for this. I decided that taking the baby and going our way would at least give us hope for a better situation, some way, at some point. I didn't see ANY HOPE of it EVER getting better, with Jim and I, together, because it had started going downhill, with his behaviors, when we dated, and lived together, and it had never swung back, to him being the sweet, shy, supportive man I had fallen in love with. It was like some awful 'BAIT AND SWITCH', he had pulled on me! I loved, and missed, THAT guy! THIS GUY was (at least ACTING LIKE) a REAL JERK, to me! If we were 'meant to be', together, which certainly seemed doubtful, I would think that either, or both, of us would have known that, and acted accordingly. But, we BOTH just let go, of 'us', each in our own way, and we BOTH moved on. Our story had no 'Happily Ever After'. Just 'The End'.

Butterbar, our teacup poodle, was also in the mix of all this. Eventually, the vet discovered that she had a heart condition, from a valve which wasn't closing properly, causing a heart murmur, I believe. She had to go to Kansas State University Veterinary Hospital, to have heart surgery, which Jim drove her down there for, because I was in the hospital, after having our son, at the same time this was scheduled for her. When Jim brought her back home, just after we brought our son home from the hospital, as well, I didn't recognize Butterbar, at first, because she was completely shaved, and looked nothing at all like her usual, curly-haired, self, for awhile. Even though it was clear that she and Jim had a real love connection, going on between them, Jim wasn't home much of the time, to help me with her needs, and I also had the baby to take care of, now. Very small dogs need frequent walks because they have tiny bladders. Butterbar also needed to get outside to exercise more, for her heart health. I couldn't always meet her needs, though, and the baby's, at the same time. I felt bad when she needed more than I could do for her, at times, because she was my first 'baby', before Jay arrived, with all his needs, from me, now. The little poodle became despondent, after seeing how much time and attention Jay got from me (with breastfeeding him, and so forth), instead of her, now; except for when Jim was around, spending his time with her when he was home, teaching her tricks, and sweet-talking her. I knew that she needed more time and attention than she was getting, from us, however, and I had been wondering what to do about it, to improve the situation, and her quality of life.

It was only growing more apparent that things were not, and would not, be improving between Jim and I, in order to make this marriage work between the two of us. As the mother of a baby boy, and with Jim being busy with his Air Force career, including going out of town at times for that, I would need to be the one, at least for now, who continued caring for the constant needs of our small son even though I was no longer breastfeeding him. Knowing this was already an extremely difficult situation, to have to deal with, I needed to find a better solution for meeting Butterbar's needs, also. So, knowing that a divorce was imminent, between Jim and I, during one of those times that Jim (supposedly) went TDY, for a few days, leaving me alone again, to think about all this, I put an ad in the paper (there wouldn't be any publicly available Internet for another decade), and I sold Butterbar. That was a very hard decision, for me, but I knew that it had to be done, because Jim would not have been able to take care of her, since he was gone much of the time, including out of town, on occasion, as well. Even though I cried, while doing it, I was also greatly comforted that she was going home with a very loving young couple, who adored her, from the moment they saw her, just as I had. They lived out in the country, versus where we lived, in a townhouse, with the street and all the traffic so close by. Butterbar would be able to run free, without the constraints of a leash, and get plenty of fresh air, and exercise!

One of the things Jim had taught her was to tuck in her Mickey Mouse doll (which I believe Jim had bought her on one of his 'TDY' trips) by laying this rubber baby doll down, in her little dog bed where it would be next to her at night, and then pulling the blanket over her 'baby' with her mouth, for 'Nite Nite'. It was so precious! I taught the couple all about this ritual, and all of her other normal habits and routines, so they could help her adjust more smoothly to this transition in her home life. Then, with tears in my eyes, I packed up her bed, her doll, and all of her other things, so she would have as many familiar things with her, as possible. They kindly sent me a few letters, telling me how much Butterbar was enjoying the freedoms she had now, out in the country, with them, and how happy and healthy she was! I was so glad to hear that! I had truly loved that little dog, in spite of my being jealous that she inspired Jim to love her, when I never seemed able to do that, myself, with him. Ironically, since I was a homemaker with no income, or access to money, it was the payment for my selling Butterbar that I used to obtain a divorce lawyer, who filed for my divorce from Jim, and had those papers served on him, on base. If he had wanted his associates to see me as the one breaking up our home, he got that, then. All Jim said to me, when he got home that day, since the baby and I STILL LIVED WITH HIM as I started the divorce from him, was "I didn't think that you were going to do that so soon." That statement said to me that he was expecting it, and that likely he knew that his behaviors had prompted my decision, which I really think he had intended for them to do. He didn't even look sad, or say anything to me, about us getting the divorce now; only about Butterbar being gone.

Jim also obtained an attorney once I started the divorce from him, and due to their legal advice this next thing happened, since judges expect a father to pay child support for their dependent. Jim and I had to take our baby boy, Jay, to the hospital, where he was then strapped down, in a papoose-like body restraint, to keep him still long enough for a larger than normal amount of blood to be drawn, from where they had pricked his heel, because Jim wanted a paternity test! I stood there helplessly watching my baby scream from his fear and pain due to that, while Jim just stood there, opposite me, stone faced, seemingly just hoping that he would be off the hook for any money, if this child wasn't his. This was traumatic for the baby, and completely insulting to me! As the blood was being drawn out of this tiny boy, who had done nothing to deserve any of this, my eyes locked with Jim's, at one point, and I am sure, in that moment, ALL he saw, in my eyes, was pure hatred of him! For him to come back at me, now, with his original sentiment of 'How do I even know this baby is mine?', after everything we had just gone through together, the marriage, the pregnancy, the delivery, and everyone saying our baby looked like 'mini-Jim', was completely despicable to me! This was due to the relatively small amount of child support that he was ordered to pay for Jay. Jim didn't even give me any spousal support; financially or emotionally! He put me through SO MUCH CRAP! It all REALLY took a toll on me, by the end.

There was no fighting between Jim and I, by then. Just a cool, firm, resolve to go our separate ways. We discussed the business at hand, but Jim remained very closed off toward me, as far as our direct communication. Knowing I would need a car to help me to move on and move out with the baby, I asked Jim about our getting one for me, which we did, and after the first couple of payments were made by him, I was employed, and gone, and making the payments on this compact car myself, then. I got hired as a live-in residential associate, for an agency that cared for handicapped children, which provided both an income and a place to live for my baby and I. I fixed up this apartment, down in the basement, as well as I could, for the two of us, to make it as pleasant as possible for the baby. This was a full time job for me, so much of the time I was upstairs in the main part of the house, caring for the two boys that lived there in this residential care facility. One was a young boy, who had cerebral palsy, and the other was a teenager, with hydrocephalus, who were not relatives of one another. Back then, job ads were primarily listed in the newspaper, so that is where I had been looking, to find my job. While reading those Help Wanted ads, I had also seen one for a dance studio seeking Ballroom Dance Instructors. I was still living at the townhouse, then, while I was job hunting, even though I had already begun the legal divorce from Jim. He called home, when he was out somewhere, one evening, for some reason, and I recall scolding him, in a very irritated manner; probably because he wasn't home, again, but was out somewhere, again, when he could at least have helped me more, with our baby, or just wanted to spend some time with his son, while we were still living there. I told him about the job ad, for the dance studio, and told him that he should go do that, since he was a good ballroom dancer, and stop simply "catting around" all the time. He took my advice, and he took that job, in the evenings, when he was off duty from his job at the Air Force base. This is significant to mention here, because it was through that job that he MET Linnea, who was to become his second wife! Had I not seen this job ad, and 'strongly suggested' to him that he go do that, those two would more than likely never have met one another, at all. So, from the very beginning, I was the one that led to the circumstances which brought Jim and Linnea together.

Meanwhile, the baby and I were both adjusting to our own, very different, circumstances, then. Jay was able to use a walker, to wheel around, now, but he wasn't old enough to walk yet. Ada, who lived in the house next door, along with her husband and 3 kids, introduced herself to me, and we became good friends. Jay seemed to like being around all these children, after such an isolated start to his life in the townhouse, mostly alone with me all day. Even as a baby, he was captivated by technology, music, and enjoyed 'looking cool' in his sunglasses! He was a happy baby, but very demanding of me, which I always went the extra mile to keep up with, for him, to be sure all of his needs were met, and well. The two of us were very close. I was an extremely devoted and conscientious mother. I was paid a small salary (on top of our being provided this basement apartment, rent free), but alot of that money went toward the car payments, and its expenses, since having a car was an absolute necessity for us, now. Jim's child support went totally to Jay's needs, whether that was his formula, clothing, all the well baby checkups at his pediatrician, toys, and everything else for him to be as healthy and happy as possible. I stayed so busy, taking care of both Jay and the client children in the residential facility, and I struggled so much to make ends meet financially, after giving Jay all that he needed, that I became sick.

The doctor thought that it might be from my living down in the basement, which worried me, for Jay's health, then. I wasn't focused on me. I was trying my very best to do what I needed to do to try to give my son a good life; so my own needs often went unnoticed, and unmet, by me, as I concentrated on him, day in and day out. Jay was a very healthy baby, with a good weight, at his checkups, because of my very conscientious care of him. So, I was really surprised, after I got sick, when I was weighed at the doctor's office, and was told there that I weighed only 112 pounds! At 5'9" I have always been tall and slender, averaging around 128 pounds as an adult. After I had the baby, I was maintaining 125 pounds (because I was so actively caring for him), while I was still at the townhouse, which was already thin, for my height. But now, because of the extreme busyness, and financial struggles, I was even 13 pounds less than that! Surprised that I hadn't even noticed, since that meant that I wasn't getting enough to eat, while the baby was thriving, thank God, I went home and looked in the mirror without my clothes, something I hadn't even taken the time to do for awhile now. I stood there shocked at what I saw! I looked like nothing but skin and bones; like those photos of anorexic girls, only I wasn't one of them. I realized that this was a serious problem, for the baby, because, if I was slowly starving, which I appeared to be, if I stayed on this course I was on, I would become too unhealthy and weak to be able to care for him properly. I could even die from this, if it weren't turned around, and if it continued, because clearly my body was finding so little fuel to run itself on that it had already burned up almost anything in me that it could use, leaving me already looking like little more than a frail skeleton with clothes hanging on it. As I saw myself looking this way, in the mirror, I burst into tears, because I didn't know what to do about it! There just wasn't any more money for us, and I would never skimp on anything that Jay needed, for him to be healthy! Jim always paid his child support on time, but aside from that, I had not seen him or heard from him, at all, since I had moved out with the baby. Not a call, not a word; not a visit to his son. Just checks. I did not even hear about any food pantries, back then. No one, not even the doctor's office, said anything about such a thing. Since I didn't know of any, then, and no one said anything to me, I wonder if those were even available, all those years ago. If they were, I was not aware of any. There were alot of things I did not know about, when I was young. I learned alot the hard way.

Because I had not really heard from Jim, after I moved out with our baby, I was surprised, and annoyed, that it took him so long, to even seem to care, when Jim came to visit the baby, one weekend. As it happened, the house was empty of clients then, because those children were visiting with their families in their homes then; something that didn't always happen. It seemed that God Himself had caused Jim to come over at a rare opportunity to have some privacy and to talk. While he did seem to be making an effort, there still wasn't alot of real communication from him, as far as substance, even as the two of us talked together. It turned out to be a very underwhelming visit from him, all around, probably for both of us. He did bring a red 'Nebraska Cornhusker' sweat suit, for our little boy, who was asleep, in our basement living quarters, for the entire visit from his father, which lasted maybe an hour. While he usually didn't nap a very long time, and I had expected to hear him crying, for me to come get him out of his crib, any time now, oddly he never woke up, while Jim was there to visit us. It almost felt to me like God was clearing the way for Jim to have a chance to say some things to me, about the two of us, but he never did. I was in a difficult position, in that house, trying to provide for Jay 24/7, and meet the needs of the client children with their various special needs. None of it was easy for me, and I felt weary, and vulnerable. Still, if Jim had even thought, to himself, that his coming around me, and our baby, again, just this one time, out of the blue, after he had basically left us on our own, only paying a minimal amount of child support for Jay, and doing nothing more to help me in any way with the situation I was in, was going to prompt me, through either desire or desperation, to tell him that I loved him or wanted him back, I assure you that didn't happen.

If anyone had needed to take that opportunity, to speak up on behalf of our relationship, with one another, it would have had to have been Jim, not me. He had not communicated with me about how he felt about me, and about us, since back in Biloxi, and after all that he had put me through, if he thought that I would grovel for any reason, asking to get back together with him, I could not, nor would not, have done that then. I was much too hurt, by him, to even realize that I still loved him, both then, and for decades to come. I was also very angry, and sad, and a lot of other emotions that weren't pretty or pleasant for me, toward him. If he showed up to put his relational feelers out, trying to determine where I was, about us, he got nothing from me, that way, that day, or any other time, once I started the divorce from him. I have a very tender, and fragile, heart. But also, underneath it all, I am basically a pragmatist, that tries to deal with the facts of a situation, as they are. The way I saw it, Jim was the one that would have to do some communicating, explaining, and a whole lot more for me to ever even think that we could make a real go of it together. And he didn't do anything of the kind. So, I don't think he was there for that; for me, or anything like loving or wanting me, or the three of us to become a family again.

He chatted with me, as we sat together in the living room of the house, in very general, basic conversation; not really about anything much at all. And he let it go at that, just leaving me to suppose, then, that this was all there was, in his emotions toward me, or our marriage to one another. Because he had not been calling me, or asking me anything at all about our son, Jim had no idea how Jay was even doing, what the pediatrician had said at his regular check ups, or what he even weighed, now, and so forth. As a result of that, sadly, the little outfit, which he had brought for Jay, did not fit him. I was able to put it on him once, but it was already so tight and uncomfortable for him that it was unusable. That day was the only time that he brought a gift of any kind to our baby while I had custody of him. I was too tired and busy, trying to raise our little boy, to have either the desire or the energy to try to figure out where Jim was coming from, since communicating directly and clearly, to me, about what he was actually thinking, or feeling, wasn't his strong suit. I could have used some help from him, with our child! Jim had not even once offered to babysit Jay so that I could have a break, however brief, from the 24/7 cycle, that I was in, of meeting all his needs, or for me to experience the pure luxury of having some time to myself. His own social life seemed to be his focus and what drove the choices he made. I was so disappointed in him and even disgusted with him, by this point. Because I was so turned off now, by how badly he had been behaving toward me, throughout our relationship, I would not have even been able to feel my attraction to or love for him on any conscious level. Jim hurt me so deeply and failed me so many ways that I just felt angry, even cold, toward him.

During my time off, I took Jay to do fun things together, but money was so tight. So, we went to the mall, and walked around, alot. Jay saw a helium balloon there, and was fascinated by that, so I bought it for him. It floated around his room for a couple of days, entertaining him, which helped because he would get lonely down in the basement when I wasn't there because I was on duty upstairs in the main house, required to do feeding, bathing, medical care, and social activities with the client children, during those hours. I kept the door cracked, in the kitchen of the house, so that I could hear Jay downstairs if he cried to be fed or have his diaper changed. Then, I would have to rush downstairs, as soon as I could get away, to help him. This particular day, I heard him start to cry, and since it was only about 15 minutes until my shift ended, when I could devote myself fully to him, for the rest of the day, I decided to wait, and I didn't go down there, then. When I did get there, I was shocked, scared, and sad, because he was standing in his crib, whimpering now, with tears on his cheeks, and the long paper string cord of the helium balloon wrapped around his neck--- a few times! It must have floated over by or above the crib, close enough for him to grab the string, and somehow, while he was apparently playing with it, this had happened! I realized that he might have been strangled by this string, down there, and could have died. Also, when he had cried several minutes earlier, it had never occurred to me that it was for any other reason than his usual needs he cried for: he was hungry, he was wet, or he was lonely. The helium had been slowly dissipating from the balloon, over that couple of days since I bought it for him, and had finally floated low enough for him to grab it as it floated near him. I hadn't known it could or would do that. Being a mother was a constant challenge, while I learned as I went, and tried for that not to be at Jay's expense! I told the girls upstairs about it, who came to the house to work with the client children, since I was not on duty 24/7. We all agreed that Jay would be better off being upstairs with us, where he could be watched more closely, and enjoy more time with the other children. He was able to do that by sitting in his walker, wheeling around behind me, as I performed my duties upstairs. Not long after I had started doing this, with him, though, the teenage boy with hydrocephalus, who often appeared moody and sullen, flew into a fit of rage, for some unknown reason, and picking up a chair, he threw it across the room, with it flying right over Jay's head, as he was sitting in his walker. It very nearly hit him! It would have definitely injured him, if it had, and could have possibly even killed him. Seeing that this house was not going to be the right environment, for me to live in, with my son, for reasons of his safety and well-being, I quit my job there, and moved us out.

I then took a live-in babysitting job taking care of an infant girl, around Jay's age. The parents were both army sergeants that were stationed in the Omaha area. They were a brash, coarse, foul-mouthed couple, though. They seemed to be caring people, but were just both very rough around the edges. One night, they insisted that I go out somewhere, for a change! All that I did was stay with, and focus on, my son. So I accepted their offer to babysit Jay for the evening. I had full, 24/7, custody of Jay, while it was just the two of us on our own, after we moved out of the townhouse, since Jim had never even one time offered to take care of him for awhile, at all, after that, even for a day, or an evening, so that I could have a break. Jim had also only visited Jay the once, at the house I had worked in before this. It seemed that Jim was off living his life, free of us being in it, now, on any real, or regular, basis. Jay was a happy baby but he was also an extremely demanding one, to care for. This child needed, and wanted, absolutely everything that I had to give; and then some, at times! There came a point for me, with all that, when I felt really worn out. Jay had only been babysat twice, so that I could have a break, and some time to myself, while he was with me. The first time was when I had lived in the children's residential facility, and Ada had kept Jay for me, next door at her house, for a few hours, while I went on a scenic drive, down to Lincoln, and back to Omaha. It had felt so strange, going anywhere at all, for any length of time, without Jay with me! It just felt really odd because I was always such an extremely devoted mother. That went fine, though, since Ada was a loving, wonderful woman!

This was the second, and final time, that I allowed someone else to babysit my son, while I was on my own with him, because he was much more important to me, even if I did feel a bit burned out, than anything I could do, or anywhere I could go, out and away from him. I deeply, dearly, loved my son, and I was very devoted to him! His safety and well-being were my main concern. I went and listened to some music, in a nightspot, alone, and then came back, after being gone just a couple of hours, because I really wasn't having any fun. I just couldn't relax, or enjoy myself, at all, away from my son, feeling a bit guilty for even being gone for that short amount of time, that I was not the one there for him. I returned to find a strange, sudden, and very obvious red chafing, all along my baby's penis, which had not been there when I had last changed his diaper, right before I left, just a couple of hours before. His penis had never looked that way, at any time, previous to this! There appeared to be abrasions all along the shaft of his penis, and I couldn't imagine what on earth could have caused those! It just didn't add up, as anything normal, to me, and he had never had that happen before, at any time, for any reason. In my gut, I just felt alarmed, by this! I wasn't sure if this was from some type of neglect or even worse, sexual abuse, of some kind, because Jay didn't seem at all traumatized, and there was no change in his happy demeanor. Something about this just didn't add up, though, leaving me on High Alert, now, about our current living situation! I asked them about it, too, but they really had no explanation, saying they didn't think that had just suddenly appeared, although I knew for a fact that it had. Regardless, I didn't trust them around my baby, anymore, and I got us out of there, as quickly as I could, right after that. Live-in jobs were my best option, for being with, and taking care of, my son, Jay, but they weren't going well, and they weren't paying well, so I needed to find a better alternative. But what? I was out of ideas, but I needed to figure it out.

Needing a place to go, where I could safely take care of my baby boy, who at that very young age still needed constant care by me, I ended up going to my parents house in Hickory, North Carolina. (Jim seemed to be fine with whatever I decided to do, giving me no real input about the best way to handle this situation, which he had placed me in, to begin with.) For myself, I DEEPLY disliked EVER being under my parents' roof, the reasons for which are well covered in this Blog, in my posts dated 4/24/19, 5/8/19, 5/29/19, and 6/5/19. So, it demonstrates how deeply I was willing to sacrifice everything to try to give my baby his best chance for a happy life, for himself, that I placed myself back in this house which had brought me so much misery in my own upbringing. This tells you how much I wanted to find some way--- a way that was good for Jay, if not for me--- to keep my son with me, so that I knew that he was being loved and well cared for; by me! Stuffing my own emotions, about it, I was grateful that at least my parents weren't treating my baby badly, like they continued to do to me. However, Jay and I were not only very close, together, by then, but he had been taught by me to listen to what I told him, and to mind me. It wasn't a power trip for me, but a safety feature, for him, which also gave him a sense of security, and stability, as he learned more about the world. He knew that there were solid, fixed, aspects, to our interactions with one another, that grounded him in their reality, and were for his own good. When I said, "No, Jay!" to something, he knew, at that age, that it was not open for discussion, and he rested in what I was telling him, not acting out or pitching a tantrum, in any way. He just accepted it. I think he could sense, from everything about me, toward him, that even my "No!" was out of my deep love for him. He trusted me!

While there, I was trying to figure out how I was going to care for the baby, with any job that I could possibly get, which would likely not pay very well. I knew it wouldn't work, long term, for me to stay with my parents, because of the relationship between us being so toxic for me. In fact, after a few weeks there, Dad got in the habit of bringing home alot of very sugary treats to Jay, every single day after work. He wouldn't ask me if that was okay. He just decided that he was going to do that, and did it. I would come into the room and find the baby's face smeared with melted chocolate, or sticky from some other candy, day after day. This was causing Jay to be so hyped up that he was unable to sleep at night at all, which of course meant that I was totally sleep deprived, as well, since he slept in the room with me so that I could take care of his needs, such as diaper changes. He was waking up-- I counted them-- 13 TIMES A NIGHT! Anyone can see that this would mean his quality of sleep had to be poor if it even existed at all, which, over time, would undermine his health. This was already harming his sense of stability. I began telling my dad to please not do this, with Jay, but, right in front of me, Dad would simply offer Jay another treat, again, the next day, and I would then be left to be the villain to my son, when I said, "No, Jay!" with my dad sitting there smirking about this, holding it out to him. Jay began to look at me, and whimper, and look at my dad, with the candy in his hand, and wheel over to my dad in his walker, and take it. My dad avoided any eye contact with me, when he did this. I think he knew he was being an outright asshole, to do this to my baby, because he never hesitated to invalidate my feelings about things. When I had to intervene, then, and pry the treat away from the baby, he would cry, and pitch tantrums, which he had never acted like.

It got to where he didn't listen to me AT ALL, about ANYTHING, anymore, greatly undermining our relationship, together, since he was being taught by my father that what I had taught him was something he could simply ignore. Dad seemed delighted to be teaching my son, in spite of my direct protests to him about it, day after day, to disrespect me, and I knew that the long term ramifications of that, for the quality of Jay's and my relationship, would not be good. One day, out of desperation, I finally spoke to my mother about it, asking her to please talk to Dad, and get him to STOP, because neither Jay nor I were sleeping at night, anymore, and Jay had turned into a tantrum-throwing brat, under the harmful influence of my father. My parents were relational game players, to be sure. So, my mother said to me, then, "Deborah, I am sure that he already just heard you asking me to talk to him about it, so I won't even have to, now." Like some BRAT himself, because I had finally 'gone over his head' to my mother about it, since he wouldn't respect my wishes, or address my concerns, about this, when I had repeatedly asked him, to his face, to PLEASE STOP DOING THIS, my father now started punishing my son, by completely ignoring him. He had trained my son to come to him, like some trained dog, to get the treats each day, so as soon as Jay saw him, he would wheel over to him in his walker, or else crawl over to him, and pull himself up on my dad's pants leg. So, my dad had set up this expectation, in my son. NOW, he wouldn't even look at Jay, talk to Jay, play with, or interact with Jay, AT ALL. My father, who was always sitting in front of the TV-- his entire life!-- would simply stare straight ahead, at the TV, totally shutting Jay out. Jay, being a baby, especially, could not understand how he was apparently someone who was suddenly completely invisible to my father. He looked very confused, looking back and forth between Dad and me, then. He tugged urgently on my dad's pant leg, but was still totally ignored by my dad. My jaw got tight from my anger over what my dad had done, and was doing, now, to mess up my son, by his jerking around my son's emotions, when Jay had always been such a sweet and happy boy before we arrived at my parents' house. My parents had ruined me, from their pulling this kind of crap, and I was not about to stand by, even in my desperate situation, and allow them to do this stuff to Jay. When this precious baby boy couldn't get any response at all, or treats, from my dad, he got so frustrated and upset that he finally burst into tears! THAT WAS IT, for me! I packed us up, right then, and headed back to Omaha. I was simply going to have to stay at the townhouse with Jim-- who was, after all, his father (although he hadn't even called us, at all, or been very involved, in general, since Jay was born), until I could find a more viable solution. I needed to solve this in a way that was in Jay's best interests because I wanted the best quality of life possible for him. I just couldn't imagine, at the time, WHAT that way could or would BE.

Arriving with our baby, back at what was now simply Jim's townhouse, I discovered that he had already rented out Jay's former nursery to another military officer. This man did not even seem to know who I was, standing there at the door, holding the baby, when I arrived there, causing me to think that Jim hadn't mentioned me or his baby. Grateful, to have some place to be with our son, I wasn't trying to make any trouble for Jim. When he was gone one day, after we had been back at the townhouse, for a couple of days, this other man began to ask me questions, which I answered honestly, while assuring him that his living there was fine, because Jim and I were in a divorce anyway. Still, seeing the situation, he did what any really decent man would have done. He moved out, saying that we needed our privacy, to get this situation worked out, ESPECIALLY WITH A LITTLE BABY IN THE MIDDLE OF IT, and that he had told Jim that he should try to work this thing out with me, because of our having this child between us. As noble as that gesture was, though, that this man made on our behalf, that was not to be. I moved into the baby's old nursery, along with him, after that man moved out, whom Jim had been splitting the rent with. Jim was still sleeping in what used to be our bedroom together, and nothing was going on between the two of us. Also, he had met a woman at the dance studio that I had told him he should work at, in the evenings, rather than "catting around" like it had been so heavily rumored that he was doing while I was pregnant and we were together. Her name was Linnea. So, wasting no time, as soon as I had cut him loose, by filing for the divorce from him, Jim had already gotten himself a steady girlfriend. He never was one to lose any time finding female, or other, companionship, socially speaking! And I had not come back thinking that he and I could ever work out, together. I had seen more than enough from him, by now, when we were dating and married, to know that it would never, could never, work out between us. So, I had already done what I had learned, over my lifetime, to do, in order to survive the hurt and harm caused me by the human relationships I had, which was for me to simply 'stuff' what I felt, deep down within me. Because of that, I was not even aware of my still loving Jim, or my heartache, and heartbreak, over the fact that this person whom I loved more than anyone on Earth had likely NEVER even LOVED ME, at all. I think that this was a subconscious coping mechanism, for me, because I love so deeply, and so truly, when I love someone that if I had allowed the full brunt of this grief to have been felt in my heart, I think, in some form or other, I would not have survived it. 'Stuffing it' can be a better alternative, than self-destructing, although this can only be a temporary solution because of the pressure from holding that in which causes it to come out some way at some point. Giving it to God is the best thing to do. And that is exactly what I have done, NOW, with ALL of these things I have been through in my life. God's Will be done!