A Wedding Story: Divorced Parents Edition

When I got married in May of this year part of my preparations was making a list of the poses I wanted for my photographer. Upon meeting my photographer I immediately explained to her that my photos would be a little more complicated than "groom's side" and "bride's side". She of course told me that it was no problem and to just make her a list.

 My husband's part was easy. 2 parents, 3 siblings, 1 set of grandparents, 2 sister in laws, a few nephews and of course his daughter. Mine was not. I knew my parents would want their own sets of pictures making my list triple the length of my husband's. I needed pictures with my mom's side, my dad's side and then there were the combined photos that I knew I had to have. This was my opportunity and since I was the bride, how could they refuse me?

Let me back up just a bit. One of my most treasured possessions is a picture of my mom, my dad and I in the hospital after I was born. My parents were married for over five years but for some reason this picture is the only posed one I have that is of the three of us. At my high school graduation I would have loved to change this. But while the majority of my class mates were taking their pictures with mom AND dad, I was running back and forth between two families to take pictures.

At my wedding I knew I wanted a picture of me, my mom AND my dad. I also wanted a picture of me with my three siblings. I have tons of photos of me, my brother and sister. And of me and my two brothers. But none with all of my siblings (in August my baby brother entered the world so now I need a picture including him). And because my family has grown immensely over the past few years, I got both pictures. Even better? It wasn't awkward.

But that picture wouldn't be the only thing my parents blessed me with that day. To my delight and surprise- my parents sat next to each other at my wedding. When I made the seating chart I sat them at different tables. I gave each parent a table to host with their own families. For a few reasons that changed and prior to the ceremony my Mom moved my Dad and his wife to the same table as her and my step dad.

For someone who grew up in a high tension family with parents who could barely be in the same room, seeing my parents seated together at my wedding was the greatest gift. And someday when my step daughter gets married I hope that we can give her the gift of peaceful harmony at her wedding as well.

Longing

With marriage comes the inevitable questions. When are you going to have kids? Are you trying? How many do you want? How will (my step daughter) deal with not being an only child at your house? 

I answer with jokes. I answer with a smile and say when it happens, it happens. I change the subject. I turn the situation around and ask my friends about the age gaps that would exist and what they think of siblings who are ten years (or more) apart in age.

But never do I answer with my heart.

If I did, I might break. 

Because the truth is I long deeply to a mommy. To have a child that is mine and my husband's. To have a child that stays. 

Because every two weeks I find myself falling into the routine of a family. Just to end Sunday with goodbyes and see you next times.

Because I've always wanted kids. 

Because my step daughter will be ten this year and I want her to have a chance to be raised with her siblings.

Because I'm 27 and then comes 28 and before you know it 30 is here and not having a baby by 30 seems strange to me. My mom is only 20 years older than I am and I love that. I always tell people that having young parents means I'll keep them longer. And I know, I know 30 isn't old. But still, a new decade.

The problem with all of this longing is on the flip side of the coin is fear. I had a miscarriage a little over two years ago. And while I know everything happens for a reason and our lives have changed for the better times a million since... still my heart isn't healed. And everytime I think I'm ready to go forward something screams in my head- not again. I couldn't do it again. And while I know other people deal with miscarriage and some women suffer multiple miscarriages (and my heart aches for each and every one of these women) I don't know if I'm strong enough to bear the loss again. 

There is also the stress of not knowing how my step daughter will handle a new sibling. Will she feel as connected to him or her as she does to her mother's other children? Will she resent her brother or sister? If we have a girl will she be jealous of not being daddy's only little girl? If we have a boy will she be jealous that her daddy has a son to teach things to? Will she accuse me of treating her differently once the baby comes? WILL I treat her differently when the baby comes?

All of this scares me.

But the scariest part to me is my husband. He has done this before. I haven't. I fear that I will have to hear how she (my husband's ex) did something. I fear that something I think is a big deal won't seem as important to my husband. Because he's been there. Because it's not new. 

I fear that he will feel guilty. That the fact he is able to be with our baby every day will make him feel the burden of guilt. That he will try to overcompensate when his daughter is around and that will make me resentful. 

The logical part of me knows that fear is normal. And everyone goes through their own special kind of anxiety over bringing a child in to this world. How could you not?

But I still find myself terrified that it's too much. 

I Want My Mom

I started my period while at my dad's house for the weekend. It was THE worst. 

First off, I was home with just my dad and younger brother. My step mom and sister were having a "girl's day" with my step grandmother. One that I, the step daughter, was not included in.

To make matters worse- a few months prior my step mom had called my mom to tell her that I had started my period and was hiding it (I hadn't and to this day have no clue why she claimed I had).

And the worst part of all was I couldn't even call my mom. I didn't have the nerve to ask and it was a long distance call. 

So what did I do? I dealt with it on my own and didn't tell anyone. Exactly what my step mom had accused me of doing earlier that year.

My plan was to tell my mom once I started again and pretend it was the first time. 

As fate would have it I've had a very regular cycle from the beginning (something I knew nothing about at the time). So every 28 days I was at my dad's. Keeping my secret. Not knowing how to go back and fix the situation.

Until finally my step mom made a call to my mom once again. Calling me a liar. Telling my mom that she was right and I had been keeping this secret all along. So I told my mom the truth. And a weight was lifted. My mom knew. She made things better. She understood. She believed me. And that made all the difference. 

I love my step daughter. I want to be there for her. I want to be involved in her life. But at the end of the day, sometimes only her mom will do. And that's okay. 

Disclaimer

Now that I've caught you up on my journey to becoming a "step" I want to back up a little bit. I fully believe that every parent does the best they can for their child. My husband's ex had her reasons for doing the things she did. I truly believe that. I don't agree and will never agree that keeping your child away from the other parent is the right thing to do. However I haven't lived her life. I also didn't live their relationship.  I'm living my life and my relationship with my best friend.

This blog is for me and I hope with it I may be able to reach other people to share experiences and learn how to "step with care". This blog is not meant to villainize my stepdaughter's mother. She is not the bad guy in this story. She is just a mom who is doing her best to raise a confident and happy child. 

This doesn't mean I always agree with her. I'm human. There are days where I feel like screaming. There are days where, in my head, she IS the bad guy and she is out to personally ruin my life. I'm sure there are days where she feels similar. These feelings are normal and realistically not true. All feelings aside she is the mother of my stepdaughter thus I do want to show her the appropriate respect. That being said, out of respect towards her (and my stepdaughter who may come across these posts someday) I will strive to make certain I'm not using this blog as a way to vent or throw mud. I can vent privately if the need arises. 

I still however plan on telling MY story and I will be as honest and as candid as possible. But I believe that can be done without viciousness or name calling. 

How I Became a Step Pt. 5

January 1, 2012 we relocated to the town where my (future) step daughter resided with her mother, stepfather and two siblings. We knew that this was our best chance at being as involved in her life as possible. We also had my experience of my parents living 45 minutes apart to draw off. I had always wished the distance between my Mom's house and my Dad's had been closer and we wanted that close proximity for her. In mid- January my (then) fiance got a call from his ex that we could have their daughter for a few hours on Saturday if that worked for us. At this point we would have moved heaven and hell to see her. So naturally we readily agreed. We were both fully aware that there may not be another opportunity to spend with her until court in March. We spent the whole day with her- opening gifts from not only Christmas but also from her birthday, Easter, Halloween and items we bought her for school. During this time we were also able to show her the rooms that we had worked hard to put together for her- her bedroom, bathroom and playroom. Finally these rooms were able to be unveiled and used. All too quickly the time flew by and before we knew it she was leaving. At least this time, with court on the horizon, we were hopeful that there would be a light at the end of the tunnel.

After the visit with his daughter, my fiance went to our lawyer to see if there was anything we could do to try and reach an informal schedule of parenting time with his ex. After the lawyers communicated we received notification that her mom was agreeing to allow us every other Saturday from 8am-5pm. Far from what we were requesting but after only seeing her once the previous year we knew it was better than the alternative. So every other Saturday from 8am-5pm we started to build our little family. These were magical days.

March 28, 2012 we appeared in court. The judge heard testimony from both parents and myself. Interestingly enough no other witnesses were called (there was an entire list of witnesses furnished to us prior to court that we expected to hear testimony from). On April 3, 2012 we were given the best news of our lives. The judge awarded (temporary) joint legal custody. This meant my fiance had the legal rights to be involved in her schooling, medical decisions, etc. Best of all the judge awarded physical custody of every Wednesday from 5-8pm and every other weekend Friday at 6pm- Sunday at 6pm. This meant we went from 2 days per month to about 10 days. Best news ever. We still had court on the horizon for October but we both felt so blessed at receiving the temporary orders.

For so many reasons my fiance finally decided to settle outside of court with his ex. Anyone who has ever gone through court knows what stress it can cause you and although coming to an agreement with his ex meant settling for less than what my fiance wanted- it was the best thing for all involved to not have to go through that day in court. So in October of 2012 our temporary orders became official. Along with 2 additional hours a week, 2 more hours added to our weekends and a holiday/vacation schedule.

How I Became a Step Pt.4

On May 18, 2013 I became a wife and added one more title to my list of steps. The dreaded stepmother title. After the heartache I experienced in my own step family I never in a million years would have thought that one day I would end up with stepchildren of my own. But life has a funny way of sneaking up on you.

When I met my (now) stepdaughter in November of 2010, I had been dating her father for five months. By this time there was no doubt in my mind that her daddy would one day be my husband. So this meeting was especially important. I was meeting my future stepdaughter. I would love to say that we hit it off immediately but that would be a lie. During that first meeting she was sweet and warm and accepting. But I couldn't make myself reach out. Instead I spent that first day sitting on the sidelines, observing father and daughter interacting, doing my best to not intrude. And while I didn't feel like the encounter was a knock out success, I felt confident that I would have plenty of time to get to know this child and counted it as a win for having taken the step in meeting her.

January 1, 2011 we got to see her again to celebrate a belated Christmas. This time I made more of an effort to laugh and play and let her get to feel more comfortable with me. I was sure that this was the start of regular visits. By this time, her daddy and I lived together in a two bedroom, two bath apartment. So we spent part of the visit discussing how she wanted to decorate her bedroom. When she left I felt like we were on the path to creating our family.

The next several months went by with sporadic telephone contact from her. For various reasons my (then) boyfriend had never obtained a physical custody agreement with her mother. In July 2011 (after close to 7 months of not seeing her) my boyfriend finally filed for joint legal and physical custody of his daughter.  In August we received back notification that her mother responded by hiring a lawyer and entering a motion to dismiss the case. We immediately responded to the motion to dismiss and requested a court hearing  to have at very minimum temporary orders established. We also decided that we would need to hire a lawyer to help us proceed. We were granted a hearing with a family court judge to be held in March 2012. The rest of the year drug on and was a highly stressful time for us.

My boyfriend wouldn't get to see his daughter again in the year 2011.

How I Became a Step Pt. 3

This brings us to me becoming a stepdaughter for the fourth time. My Dad has been married for the last two years to someone who I'm proud to call part of my family. She is fun to be around and genuinely makes my Dad happy.

And... she is five years older than me. Once again adding a whole new dynamic to my life of steps. For example how do I introduce her? My Dad's wife seems cold and distant since it removes any personal connection from myself. Yet- my stepmom? It feels so strange applying that to someone who is less than a decade older than me. Not that I have any reservations about her because of her age. You love who you love and from my first meeting with her I knew she was that person for my Dad.

Maybe its my age, and not hers, that is the problem with defining our relationship. Maybe at twenty seven gaining another "mother" seems silly because I have my own home and my own family (which I will get to in my next post). Not to mention a mother AND a former stepmother. I'm sure that a lot of people would tell me that titles are unnecessary and that a title can't properly define your relationship with another person. Still I find myself hesitating when referring to her as my Dad's wife. I still feel the need to define the relationship in some way.

How I Became a Step Pt. 2

As I previously mentioned, my Mom's second marriage was brief. This period of time in my life was neither defining nor memorable. Lucky for us there was something better was on the horizon, we just didn't know it yet. The next five to six years my Mom spent as a young, single mom to three kids. With that came babysitters, tight budgets and what I'm sure were long days for my Mom. During this time she had met and was dating my stepfather but it would take five years of dating before he married my Mom and completed our family of five.

After said five years of being part of our lives but still apart from us, they married. Once again giving me a stepfather and regaining the title of stepdaughter in my (primary) home. Similar to the last time the title of "step" wasn't one I applied to myself. And to be honest it wasn't one in which I put a lot of emphasis in relation to my stepdad. Yes, he wasn't "my" dad. Yes, I had a dad whom I loved and couldn't be replaced by anyone. And no I didn't call him Dad, I called him (and still do) by his given name. Yet his role in my life wasn't terribly different than that of my Mom's. And their marriage, while not perfect, finally gave me the chance to see a functional, loving marriage that was built on friendship. Their marriage also gave me and my brothers a solid family unit. One that still exists today.

My Dad's second marriage lasted much longer than my Mom's second. This particular marriage ran the course of my childhood and ended when I was in my early twenties. And while I'm sure the lessons learned from these seventeen years will be shared on this blog for now I'm going to leave this particular piece of my history where I left it in my previous post- the word step was an ugly and profoundly impactful word. And, maybe for no other reason other than my own insecurities, I never stopped feeling that word. 

How I Became a Step Pt. 1

I became a stepdaughter at the age of five. Since I don't remember my parents being married to each other I was never the kid that longed for a reconciliation. Yes there were times I wondered what it might be like. And there were times when I resented having to do the every other weekend bit. However I didn't know any differently than having two homes and two families.

The same year that my dad remarried, my mom did as well. Suddenly I had two new families. At my mom's (where I spent all of my time, other than every other weekend and alternating holidays) I had my brother (who shares both biological parents with myself), a brand new baby brother (technically a half brother- but its a term I've never felt comfortable with), two stepsisters, a stepbrother and of course the man my mother married- my new stepfather. In this family suddenly I wasn't only a daughter and a sister- I was also a stepdaughter and a stepsister. My second family (of the every other weekend variety) was my dad's- which included my brother (whom I listed earlier), a brand new baby sister (again, technically a "half") and my dad's new wife. My stepmother. Again in this family I held the title of stepdaughter. And that title was profoundly different than any other in my life. In my mother's home I never felt the word "step" in a way that applied to me. Yes I had a stepdad. Yes I was a stepdaughter (and sister). But I was still my mother's daughter and essentially my place in the world hadn't changed. However in my dad's home I was actively aware of the title of "step" and the weight of the word completely impacted my feelings of worth in the family.

I don't have many memories of my first stepfather. My mom's relationship with him didn't last long. The memories I have of him are, for lack of a better word, indifferent. He didn't make any impact on my life to speak of one way or the other. However because of him I have an amazing little brother and for that I can be grateful.

As for my dad's marriage- that one lasted seventeen years. Resulting in plenty of memories- good, bad and ugly. I can only hope that the roller coaster my family went through during that time will be the experiences I can draw upon to ensure that as an adult my relationships with people are grounded. While problems will undoubtedly arise (as they do in any relationship) I hope I can always remember to "step with care".