An open letter to my baby boy's other mom...

There's this side of me that prays you one day read this with an open heart...sadly, I know you probably won't. But I'm going to write it anyways. I'd like to start it at the beginning. The day we met. I tumbled into my doctors office in a fit of giggles with a friend. Two women you had never met. One of those women obviously pregnant with your boyfriends unborn child. I had no idea you'd be there. And at first a white hot flash of anger went through me. How dare that coward bring another woman to my appointment? For my baby? But as the appointment progressed I only felt pity for you. He didn't even have the balls to introduce you. And looking back sometimes I feel like I should have introduced myself. But pride stood in the way. I refused to offer my hand to a woman linked to a boy I despised. To this day he is a coward in my eyes. And out of respect for your relationship with him I will probably never divulge my reasons for that. Oh, but I'm sure he's told you absolutely everything about how bad I was to him. I have no doubt really. He pulled the same wool over my eyes about the woman before me. A woman he is now again "friends with". I could hardly imagine him being friends with someone who put him through what he says she did. So there I sat, pretending like you didn't exist. Knowing in my head and heart the battle that would surely ensue but praying all the while it didn't. I never introduced myself to you that day. I pitied you though. At the time. Even went as far as messaging him telling him it was pathetic he couldn't even introduce the girl he brought to my prenatal appointment for our son. And I was worried. You were so young. How could this all work? Were you mature enough to handle the situation when he so obviously wasn't? Were you already against me with every fiber of your being? Could we all get along for the sake of my son? And there is the ugly truth. The beginning of your resenting my very existence. Your now husband had a child by me. Instantly, I became the worst. So now here we are over a year later and you can't even stand to see my face. It's written plainly across your features any time we cross paths. I'm the terrible one. The one that's made your life so hard. If I just didn't exist things would be so much simpler. If I was more of this or less of that, it would be so much easier. But hear me. I don't hate you. I dislike the side of you I've seen but I know there has to be more to you than that. I know, because of my son. I know because of the way he smiles at you. The way he let's you hold him in your arms. And I will not lie. Any time I see you with him there is a flash of white hot rage that runs through me. But it isn't what you think. You've shown me disrespect at every very turn. You've thrown fits when you haven't gotten your way. Answered for your husband multiple times (you're smarter than him sweetheart, I can tell the difference) when he wasn't handling an argument between me and him the way you thought he should. You've stomped from court rooms when the judge didn't say what you liked. You've snatched my own son from my arms, like you had a right to take him from me. And I'm not completely blameless in all of this. Believe it or not I have struggled too. You see, as a mother it is hard to see your son in another woman's arms. It is hard to know that he loves her too, possibly as much as he loves you yourself. It is hard knowing that when he is away there is another woman calling herself his mother. In the beginning I tried to see past all of that. I tried to get you to understand that I don't hate your existence. I don't envy you being with my ex. I am sad at the lost time with my son but I am grateful he has you there. You see, I don't have much respect for his father. But upon hearing the news that you two were getting married I thought "wow. She's gotta be pretty strong. She's gotta have a big heart to put up with all of that." You see, I know this journey has been hard for you. Walking into a relationship with a man who has an unborn child by another woman? Excuse me being frank, but that takes balls. Especially at your age. But it doesn't mean you have to be bitter. It doesn't mean any of us have to be bitter. It's no secret that I don't care much for your husband. But I am trying. Not for you. Not for him. Or even me. But for our son. And yes I mean our. Not just mine and his but we all share him. We all love him. I know this isn't how you imagined your happily ever after. Wouldn't it be easier to adjust those dreams though if we could both lay down our pride and actually accept one another? I accept you as his bonus mommy. I don't like the way you've treated me but I know how you treat our son. That's the side of you I want to see. I don't envision us ever walking hand in hand talking about our boy but we CAN coexist peacefully. You see, it's been hard for me too. I've always been mommy. The ONLY mommy. But I've had to come to terms with myself and realize he's yours too. Whether I like you or not. Whether you like me or not. We both (and our husbands) play a huge role in his life. Parent, step parent...it doesn't matter. All he should know is love. From all of us. Not underlying resentment towards the other parents. Not tense transitions that leave him confused. And he'll pick up on it even more as he gets older. Not the constant thought of "I'm better than your other parent. This would be easier if it wasn't for her." Because trust me, even if you never speak it in words it will show. So here I am still praying that one day you'll move past that resentment, move past what you've heard and get to know the real me. Not so that we can become friends, but so that our son can see two strong women who love him enough to at least try to like each other. That's all I'm asking. Respect me and I'll respect you and together the four of us can raise this little boy, this little joy...believe it or not we can all do it together. And it won't be peaches and cream. There will still be arguments, still be times we don't like each other or agree. But if we can build upon a foundation of respect we can make it through all of that and realize that the ugly isn't really so ugly anymore. That we're all his parents and we all love him. Because that's the bottom line. The only reason we even know each other. Let your love for him outweigh your resentment towards me. Let your love for him heal your broken dreams and mend together a more fulfilling life for our son. Like it or not, I'm here forever. He's my baby boy. But I'm willing to admit he's yours too. I'm willing to lay down my pride and work through my fears for his sake. I'm willing to view you as an equal and go through this hard yet oh so rewarding journey of motherhood together. Wouldn't it be easier if we at least tried to get along?

Try

I put on the cutest clothes I can fit into. Fox my hair. Do my makeup. Well it ever be enough? Look at me. Look through me. You used to. I used to be vivid in your eyes. And now mine burn with unshed years. Did I put too much on your plate? Become dull with everyday wear? When did I become nothing more than another casualty in your life? You used to spark madness in me at the slightest touch. Now I rarely feel your touch anymore...I've spent my whole life being people's light in the dark. But now more than ever I just want to be yours...

Expectations...

I'm trying so hard not to be angry with you. But the truth is I'm livid. And I keep telling myself it's because of all these expectations I've got set in my own head. I know this. Yet it's not any easier to bear. So now I've fallen into this depression. And I'm trying so hard. But it doesn't seem to get me anywhere. A baby step here, a half step there. It's all too much. And I keep saying that it'll be okay. We can make it work. But I'm so tired of working and working and working. I won't give up. This I know. They always say that when one is weak the other is their support. What happens when we're both weak though? What happens when we've both hit the floor? I keep saying, pick yourself up. Get moving. Trudge a little further. But I don't want to. I want you to stand up. I want you to move forward. I want it to be your hand reaching down to pick me up off the floor. I am tired. I am scared. I am worried. I am doing my best not to complain but I also feel like I'm two seconds from shattering. I can handle this alone. I've done it before. But that's not how it's supposed to be anymore. We're supposed to be partners. Lifting each other up. And so I'm angry with you. I've fallen yet nobody is here to pick up my slack. I have to keep going through the motions. Watching as you struggle too. "I wish I was strong enough for both of us". But I'm not. Not right now. I need your strength. I need your embrace. I need your reassurance. I need you to step up where I've been knocked down. But that's not how this works. So what I really need is to pull myself together. It's just never been this hard before...the weight of not only my world, but three others, is on my shoulders. And I so badly want to say "come hold me, this is supposed to be our burden to share". But it isn't. It's mine. And I knew this from the start. So how do I let go of those expectations? How do I regain my confidence in myself rather than silently begging for your support? I've gotta get up...I've gotta put another foot forward...