I don't want him back

 Referring to my ex-husband.

I'm sure after reading my first entry, it sounds like I want my ex-husband back.  That is most definitely not the case.  Like many people, I'm one if you cheat on me, I will walk away forever.  You won't get a phone call, text or idea of me ever again.

We had some good times.  The unfortunate part of those 'good times' are before I became pregnant with my son.  We both worked full time jobs, he was deployed quite a bit, we took mini vacations with family, and just the typical couple life without children, kind-of-life.

I should have seen the red flags on the first deployment though.  Don't get it wrong, I was accustomed to the military life because it was part of my past.  However, during his deployments he was short, and he wanted a lot of 'personal' on cam activity.  This was something I was never comfortable with, but I did it because it made him happy.  When I refused, he would lash out and ask if I was being unfaithful knowing himself, I wasn't that person.  I just didn't like sexual activities on web cam.  It made me feel dirty, and low.  

In the back of my mind, it was all about keeping him happy because he was the one fighting in an active war zone, needing comfort or attention from his wife back home.  Sadly, these moments would make me feel like I was trash.  I allowed it though.

When I took the test confirming I was pregnant with my son, needless to say I was in shock.  It was 6 days after the 2014 new year, and I was nauseated.  I thought it was from all the drinking and celebrating we'd done through that week.  My period was never on time, but this moment felt different, so I took a test while he sat on the couch drinking coffee.

3 minutes later, and one test snatching chihuahua run down I had a positive test.  His only reply was, 'at least we know my shit works.'  What do you say to that? 

He already had an older child from a previous marriage, and he never wanted more so this had me nervous.  I did sit down with him that evening and told him the baby will stay.  He agreed.  

3 months into a severely high-risk pregnancy, I was traveling back home from work and there he was craving sex.  In my mind, I didn't want to do anything that could even come close to causing a miscarriage.  There we were fighting again because I didn't want to have sex.  I wasn't comfortable in my own body at the moment and had a lot in the front of my mind regarding my pregnancy.  I slept in the guest room and cried myself to sleep that night because he was angry.

It was like this my entire pregnancy, and the only thing I could tell myself was 'just lean over until he is finished.'  Oh, this makes me angry, because I know he would be telling a different story right now denying it all. I would share some information about this to my OB, and she just told me to inform him it's not safe for sex anymore around 7 months when I just couldn't take it anymore.  It worked.

When I delivered my son, he was there and very supportive to a point.  I wanted minimum exposure to any of our families while in delivery, so I asked information to be kept to a minimum for both families while I was in labor.  I wanted peace. My mother took us asking for her to wait in the waiting room the wrong way, and my ex-husband would tell is family how dilated I was.  Not necessarily what I was going for when I asked for privacy.  I didn't want my mother to see my downstairs, and I didn't want his parents knowing how large that area was expanding either.  I just wanted the fairytale 'us' moment.  

I had most of what I hoped for, except when he told me 'Oh you pooped while pushing too, the nurses scooped it up and threw it away.'  This was something I truly didn't want to hear.  After delivery, my parents came to visit and like most women after birth, we are starving.  We'd agreed he would order me anything I wanted, or he would go get it.  This too didn't happen.  He instead ordered me pizza, that came 2 hours late and cold to the touch.  I mentioned it was cold, and he said, 'there's nothing wrong with this.' My dad (I love this man) offered to get me the steak dinner I was craving, and I declined because I didn't want another moment ruined. 

So many moments after little C was born, just... it was bad.  He left me to carry him in his carrier a week after when he knew I was told not to.  He yelled at me while I had the baby in my arms, so close his spit flew into my face.  He called me a cunt in my parents' home, leaving me feeling so degraded.  These arguments revolved around the fact I didn't want to travel with a newborn, or when I'd bring up the fact, I needed his help in the middle of the night with the baby.  I'd gone to the store once around the corner (literally) and wasn't gone 15 minutes.  He called me asking what's wrong with the baby, he won't stop crying and I told him, 'he needs to be burped, that's a burp cry.' Long story short, he complained how nothing was working.  I rushed home to see the baby in his swing, screaming.  I picked him up, bounced a little, patted his back and there it was.  A loud rush of air and he instantly stopped crying. 

This man didn't want to be a dad.  As much as I hate to say it, the stories he'd give me about his older son had me bewildered because he was always active, helpful and present.  In our stories, he was the complete opposite.  Why?