Dear X,
I never thought this would be me, but here I am.
I met you at a party in 2011. We were both losing at life...
you were my next bad relationship, and I was your naive, six-years-younger,
blond girlfriend who was easily charmed, equally addicted to partying and
whatever made me feel numb. You didn’t try to coerce me into anything, and you were the kindest pathological liar I’d ever met. You
disappeared for weeks at a time, but always found a way back to me with your sweet talk.
It was only a matter of time, really. The moment life
happened, I knew I was pregnant. I’d always read about people “just knowing”
they were pregnant, and I never believed those stories.
But I knew then, beyond a shadow of a doubt. I got up and went home with a sinking feeling. You
disappeared again to who-knows-where, for almost a whole month this time, and
once again I believed whatever excuse you gave. I texted you from my
grandparents’ bathroom with two positive Dollar Store pregnancy tests in my hand.
“Oh my God, baby! Are you okay?”
“No."
“Whatever you want to do, I support you."
In my heart, I already knew that you were going to fail us, but I just didn’t know how painful the fall would be. For a while, you and I pretended. We even
made a plan to move closer to your family. You stroked my tummy and whispered
lovely things to our 6-week-old baby. You missed my first appointment and her
first ultrasound. You so wanted a little girl; I wanted you to want us. I
wanted this mistake to be okay. You called
your mom and told her the news, and over the phone she offered pregnancy advice
for me. It almost felt…normal.
Sadly, actions speak louder than words, and my first
maternal instinct kicked in, piercing through my safe cloud of denial. I’ll never forget an image that played over and
over in my mind…a little girl standing in a window and waiting for her daddy,
waiting, waiting, waiting, for a daddy who never came. The image haunted me as
much as your face would haunt me in the future.
You seemed confused by why I would want to leave you and my family and my
hometown, and move away into a maternity home to try to make my ruined life better
for our baby. I was so confused and broken by your tears. Was I wrong to do
this? To “keep a father away from his child”? Did you really care? But still, I left.
While I was away, my mind grew as much as my belly. Yet I
still held on to our few false memories. I desperately hoped, waited for your texts, and believed
your empty promises; I went to visit you in the hospital, fought with you almost
every week as you continued to lie.
“I love you and our baby so much.”
“I’ll be there
tomorrow.”
“I just mailed a check.”
“I’ll buy you a crib.”
“I quit drinking.”
“Did you pop that baby out?”
Finally, it was enough. She was 1 1/2 months old, you lived 1 1/2 hours away, and yet you never once tried to see her. You posted the baby pictures I sent you
on your Facebook account like you were there with us, and I finally had the courage to stand up on my own- to stand up for my daughter’s heart. I changed my phone number, and this time
it was my own choice to never hear from you again.
X, I want you to know I am so thankful for you for staying away. I’ve watched my friends go
through horrible custody battles; they've faced degrading language, abuse, control, manipulation, and even neglect, all in the name of co-parenting a child. I’ve watched them cry, their natural protectiveness defeated by a court order, as they
packed their little children off in a car or on a plane for visitation with someone they once thought they knew. I’ve
watched their legs shake sitting before a judge, and I’ve hugged them while they
sobbed at the unfairness and injustice. And I’ve heard, again, and again, from friends and strangers, “You don’t know how lucky you are.
You don’t have to share her.”
But you see, it’s not just your lack of trying to get
rights….
X, thank you so much for our daughter. I remember the first
time I looked her over in the hospital. All ten fingers and ten toes, and somehow,
I knew there would be a striking reminder of you. And there it was: when I tipped her
tiny face upwards, there was that same little cleft in her chin, so familiar to
me. She got a lot from you… your athleticism, your perfect blue eyes, the
gorgeous hair that your mom told me runs in your family, even in the shape of her face I see you.
X, thank you for not sticking around. It was because of
lack of you that I gave my heart to Jesus in a church one day, holding my tiny,
fatherless baby girl. It was rock bottom for me. A single mom just
turned 21 with a very different future than I'd ever imagined. A precious baby
with a “deadbeat dad”. Left to my own devices in the past, I had failed, again, and again,
and again. I truly don’t know where we would be now if you had made good on any one
of your promises. I finally surrendered to God.
X, thank you for not being there for the first years of her life. I have been with her 24-7 for three years. I sometimes resent that very much. I've gotten up with her ten times a night, I've gotten up with her six times a night, and now I get up with her two times a night sometimes. I’m the
only one she cries for when she has a bad dream, and I’m the one who
experiences those perfect moments when we fall asleep holding each other. I've hated you for this part... the thousands of dirty diapers, the sleepless nights, having no idea what I was doing, being solely responsible for nourishing a human being, trying to function at work and school. I hated being so alone, out-of-my-mind
tired. But once again, X, I thank you. The loneliness, the
exhaustion, the confusion of it all has brought me to my knees every day and
night. “God, please help me” is my constant prayer. Truly, there are days where
I have nothing left. I never would have been that humble if you were there. I never would have allowed myself to depend on God. I never would have searched
through my Bible during nap times, desperately seeking answers and
encouragement and words of affirmation and love. I never would have begged friends and family to please come take her for awhile, and in doing so, become so loved that I was able to love her...and myself... again.
X, thank you for not being her dad. In your absence, I
have met countless friends under the same label of “single mom.” I have been
given more gifts that I can count- huge gifts- gifts I only dreamed of in the
past, like a full-ride scholarship, my apartment, two cars, the list goes on. I’m a college
student, X! Can you believe that? I have my family back, friends
that have become family, I have Jesus, and I have grace. Your absence has left a gaping hole which has been filled to
the brim with such wonderful things. Your absence has made all of the verses in
the Bible about fatherless children become applicable for my very own
daughter, and you can bet that God has come through with every single one of
them. She does not lack anything, and as I raise her, God raises me! I
finally get it, X. I finally understand the love God feels for me. I finally
understood when I was trying to teach her to walk that God was teaching me to
walk too!
X, thank you for your family. They are
normal, imperfect people who have found enough love in their hearts to call me
their daughter and think the world of me and A. I’m not keeping her away from them... they belong to her. They send cards and boxes of presents for her, and they will be in love
with her while she grows up, excited for her on her first day of preschool, cheering for us and supporting us, planning elaborate camping trips every summer, skyping with her regularly, and someday present at her graduation and wedding. I never imagined that for her. What a gift.
X, thank you for not being near me. Someday, there’s going to
be a guy. I don’t know who he is or when he will come. I pray for him as
much as I pray for you. In the past, I might have missed him as I searched for
a wild, exciting romance in which I felt deeply known. But this man, he is going to be different. He’s going to love A as much as he loves me. He’s going to be a
tender, loving, consistent, present dad, and he doesn’t even know it yet. And you
know what? I would have missed him. I wouldn’t have given him the time of day. Now I
picture my wedding day and I get tears in my eyes because I KNOW our marriage won’t
be perfect, but I will never, ever, take that guy for granted. Every moment of pain I have experienced..when she asks (frequently) "Where's MY daddy, Mom?", when I see other dads with their kids..Well, like everything else in our lives, the pain will be fully redeemed. This man is already my
hero, and every day God grows us a little closer to each other. Thanks to you,
X, I know what kind of man I’m waiting for.
The other day at church I put my hands above my head and sang my heart out. Five
years ago, I was the girl who just couldn’t get out of her seat due to the
embarrassment of someone labeling her as a Jesus-freak. What if someone thought
I would lose all my composure for Christ? What if someone thought I wasn’t
cool? A few minutes later, A ran out from the church nursery and grabbed… my
butt. She laughed hysterically and then we danced together, both of us jumping for joy, our
sweaty hands tightly together, her bright eyes filled with wonder and happiness.
There's one thing I never got to say to you, and that is, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I said about God when I got pregnant. I'm sorry that I told you far more about a judgmental God than a loving God. I'm sorry I told you I would get excommunicated from church. I'm so sorry. I wish I could take that back. I know differently now.
There's one thing I never got to say to you, and that is, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I said about God when I got pregnant. I'm sorry that I told you far more about a judgmental God than a loving God. I'm sorry I told you I would get excommunicated from church. I'm so sorry. I wish I could take that back. I know differently now.
But I’m learning, X. And I’m just so thankful for my beauty
from ashes story. So thank you.
Encouragement for Single Moms:
“He heals the brokenhearted
He binds their wounds
He is love
He finds those forgotten
Those who've been abused
He is love
He knows your name
A father to the fatherless
A healer of the brokenness
You've make beauty from the ashes
And You're a helper to the helpless
A fighter for the hopeless
You love those who are alone
Those who are alone
He comforts the lonely and hears their cry
He is love
He holds our children throughout the night
He is love
He knows your name
A father to the fatherless
A healer of the brokenness
You've make beauty from the ashes
And You're a helper to the helpless
A fighter for the hopeless
You love those who are alone
Those who are alone
(Taken from the song Esther, by the band Esterlyn.
He binds their wounds
He is love
He finds those forgotten
Those who've been abused
He is love
He knows your name
A father to the fatherless
A healer of the brokenness
You've make beauty from the ashes
And You're a helper to the helpless
A fighter for the hopeless
You love those who are alone
Those who are alone
He comforts the lonely and hears their cry
He is love
He holds our children throughout the night
He is love
He knows your name
A father to the fatherless
A healer of the brokenness
You've make beauty from the ashes
And You're a helper to the helpless
A fighter for the hopeless
You love those who are alone
Those who are alone
(Taken from the song Esther, by the band Esterlyn.
He will feed
his flock like a shepherd.
He will carry the lambs in his arms,
holding them close to his heart.
He will gently lead the mother sheep with their young.” (Isaiah 40:11, NLT)
He will carry the lambs in his arms,
holding them close to his heart.
He will gently lead the mother sheep with their young.” (Isaiah 40:11, NLT)
But God heard the boy crying, and the angel of
God called to Hagar from heaven, “Hagar, what’s wrong? Do not be afraid! God
has heard the boy crying as he lies there. Go to him and comfort him, for I will make a
great nation from his descendants.” (Genesis 21:17)
She gave this name to the
LORD who spoke to her: "You are the God who sees me," for she said,
"I have now seen the One who sees me." (Genesis 16:13)
"Comfort, O comfort My people," says your God."Speak kindly to Jerusalem; And call out to her, that her warfare has
ended, That her iniquity has been removed, That she has received of the LORD'S
hand Double for all her sins"… (Isaiah 40)
One day old in the hospital
*The idea from this blog came from an open letter I found on the web awhile ago. I am unable to find the original link, but I found another blog which quotes her entire letter here: http://www.singlemomscoffeebreak.com/thank-letter-19-year-old-single-mom.html
Lovely :)
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