Preggies

I am 5 months pregnant...YAY!!!

I cried with joy when I found out that I was pregnant and then I cried because I wasn't sure if my husband could be the man I needed him to be. When I told him, he teared up and hugged me with joy and immediately made the promise that this time will be better...this time he would be faithful.

I want choose to believe him...

Things have been going really really well. For Christmas he made me a jewellery box...he actually spent time on something that was for me. 3 years ago that would not have happened - he barely had time to buy me a chocolate, but he worked at that thing for hours and now it has become one of the strongest statements of how much his changed. I will treasure it forever...

His doing well. He goes the extra mile to be transparent in all that he does, his kinder and patient. Sexually, his more giving. He was honest enough to tell me that he "helps" himself perhaps once a month - which I immediately translated to mean 2 or 3 times, but he keeps it low so that our intimacy can grow and that my needs are met as well as his...a far cry from the man who used to touch himself in the shower so often that our sex life became an after thought.

But there will always be this thought in the back of my mind, that he says he can't be trusted and I am learning to make my peace with that. The idea that a good relationship can only exist in a relationship with a 100% trust isn't true. I think you can have a great relationship where you can trust yourself a 100% and maybe him...80% plus. He will never regain my full trust, but that is for the best.


Sooo, so far so good. Maybe this time will be different after all...

Scene of the crime

I desperately want another child, but in order to do that I need to return to the scene of the crime.  Feelings of loneliness and despair are already teasing my memories...it gets harder to breathe and I fight the need to instinctively cross my legs, as if my body is trying to protect itself from being so vulnerable again.

You see I found out that my husband had the this whole other life mid way during my 1st pregnancy. The porn, the women, the affairs...all of it. And although I thought I might be "uncomfortable" about it during my second pregnancy, I had no idea that it would invoke such terror. My mind is racing with all the things I want to tell him...things that include words like bastard and asshole.

In my panic, one of my most deep resentments that I have done my best to ignore has risen to the surface for air...I bitterly resent the fact that my husband put my sons life in jeopardy. My husband could have passed on an STD while I was pregnant, compromising my sons health. He could have been blinded, physically challenged or heaven forbid born with an STD.My sons quality of life was at stake, because my husband wanted to get laid.

I don't think I have ever come so close to feeling engulfed in rage as when I think about it. His betrayal of me was one thing, to do that to our child, makes me want to punch him in the freaking face.

I watch my son...now a toddler, for signs of some sort of emotional instability-I was a complete wreck for at least 50% of my pregnancy and I wouldn't be surprised if somehow I managed to transfer that to my lovely baby boy.I resent that he put my sons health at risk and I wonder whether I should tell him. Am I just dredging up old issues? Am I right to warn him off. In my mind, I play the scene - I look him squarely in the eye, while I tell him that he didn't give a second thought to our son and even though he is healthy and thriving, life could have been very different. I want to rage at him, that if he does it again- I will make him pay. I need him to understand that I see him as a threat to our growing childs life and I will make damn sure to protect it...even if it means that our marriage won't survive the pregnancy.

And as for me, I am starting to have flashbacks of crying until I couldn't cry anymore...vacillating between feeling like I was dying to not feeling anything at all. I am going out of my mind and all I know is that I don't want to go back there...but I also know that want a second child and preferably with the same man, so that they could have the same the dad.

Is it possible that this time could be different? Am I brave enough to share the experience with him, instead of shutting him out? I don't know...but GOD, please...Your grace saved me before, lead me once more, because if it where up to me, this is going to turn into some prayer mantis bullsh*t.Prayer Mantis eats male  eeeuw!!

Emilio and the memory box

I loved him. Not romantically, but in the way you love someone just for them...he was special and died when we were teens. I remember the day I first met him  and I remember the day we buried him. In my memory box lies a pamphlet and a condolence letter to me. The memory box used to be filled with momentos of past boyfriends, which I chucked away when hubby and I decided on a fresh start...but I couldn't summon the courage to throw Emmys pamphlet away.

This weekend I sat on the bed and apologized to him for the millionth time,for not being a better friend. For being self centred and weak. Selfish and spoiled. For turning away and forgetting him in favour of childish joy and delights while he laid in hospital dying. I am sorry today, as I have ever been...but still I thought it was time to let go, but I just couldn't. I feel as though it would be the ultimate betrayal if I discarded his image to the bin. This is my penance, to keep him with me, so that I never forget what I am capable of- and what I despise most in others.

I keep him to remind me, to be better person to those around me - to be mindful and present to others pain and joy. To stay true despite the hopelessness of the situation...

I wonder sometimes if this is why I have stayed, in my darkest hours. To somehow show that I will not run, I will not hide- I can be strong and brave and true, even unto the very end.

I wonder if my husband found my box, and if he wonders who Emilio was to me. If he ever asks, I will tell him - that Emmy was a better person than me and that in his death I  found a better me.

I guess some memories never reach an expiration date- they stay in a box, waiting...

That bullying bitch

In the twilight, my friend and I spoke about the older wives we knew and the choices they had made. We spoke about the bitter wife - who decided to stay, hoping  her husband would change -he didn't of course...he just couldn't keep away from the ladies...they will spend the rest of their marriage in separate bedrooms, because she doesn't believe in divorce...

We spoke about the bully wife - the one that monitors everything he does - drills him on everywhere his been - interrogates and insults her husband for fear that if she doesn't, he will mislead her once again. The blind wife, who actually refuses to even consider that her once promiscuous partner could cheat on her again. Despite the most heinous of betrayals she blinds herself to the possibility of unfaithfulness...because it hurts to damn much to even think he would do it again, after he saw the way her heart crumbled the last time...

How about the resigned wife. The wife that cooks, cleans and sighs sighs of regret under her breath. Perhaps she stayed to long, perhaps she should have screamed at him instead of praying alone...perhaps she should have prayed first instead of chucking him out...she will never know where her footing slipped, as she tried to hold on to her husband for her familys sake. All she knows is that something went wrong along the way and it haunts her that she couldn't make it right. She looks at her life and regrets the decision she made to either stay or leave..

And of course the pragmatic wife - she misses the days when her husband truly was her hero, but she has come to terms with his feet of clay. She longs to be loved like the heroine in Mills and Boon books - desperately and honestly, but she knows that this is unlikely - so a warm relationship is settled for. After all, what she and her kids get out of it, is worth the sacrifice of girlhood dreams.  Most days she is fine with the sacrifice, but every now and then she wonders if there is a man out there, searching for her,  who is ready to make her his all and everything.She consciously pushes the thought aside, before she turns to face her husband. He can only offer her a comfortable and warm companionship now-  never again will he be able to sweep her off her feet. After all she has found out what happens when  your head is in the clouds. And she has learnt to be okay with that...
 
I wonder these days, which wife am I- I have yet to meet a woman who has gone through constant infidelity in her marriage and has come out permanently happy and content on the other side. Maybe "okay"...but never happy. Is it possible? We flip between " I feel like we're doing better" and " What is that bastard doing now" - we have a good days and bad, but the way we look at the world and our husbands will never be the same again.

Sometimes the weight of unknowing is to much to bear and I want to pack it all in. I know that I don't want to be bitter, resigned or a bully. I want to end off my marriage the way I started- proud of my husband and content with the choices I have made.And that's my prayer for us all - that one day when we are to old to bother with bras, that we look back and are content with the choices we have made and the husbands we had.

Be blessed.

Learning to Live with Less

Every now and then I trawl through the male perspective on how it felt to be cheated on...I came across that one sentence amongst  all the angst " I am learning how to live with less" and it broke my heart, because thats it, isn't - we are all learning how to live with less...

Some might argue that, while we have less- at least its honest...but still. The truth can't stop the cloying feeling of loss.

Last night, something to 1 in the morning I went through his phone. I don't what I expected to find...I know he doesn't use his phone to cheat, but I couldn't stop myself from just checking.... I signed up for a social site he used to use, to see if he was on there and 5 minutes later deleted the account having found nothing...I wish I could just shut it all away.

I want to take my son and drift off in fields of golden sunshine, where I provide everything he could ever need and I would be free from this constant feeling of doubt

When we first got married, our future stretched before us---boring, but predictable and now it seems like every other month I am wondering if divorce is on the cards. Not because his cheating, but because doubt has exhausted me.

I dream of paying a woman to come on to him, just to see what he would do. Why wait for years, when I could find out right now what kind of man he has decided to be.

I don't know what tomorrow holds - torn between my dreams of old and hazy future- I am learning to live with less...now if only I can teach my heart to be satisfied with that...

His ex Abby Jacobs has moved back into town

Slut looks as Slut does..this was posted to facebook for the world to see

 So I understand that my husbands ex mistress is back in cape town. Thats right, she could be lurking around the next corner. There is a part of me that hopes we run into each other...and I hope her husband is with her.

Multiple Passwords...Multiple problems

My husband was always fanatical about passwords. He laughed at me, when I revealed how simple mine was...after all, it just needs to be difficult enough for someone not to guess off hand and easy enough for a bit scatter brain to remember...I will never forget how committed and serious he was about passwords...

Fast forward two years later and I know why that son of bitch was fanatical about passwords. During the fall out, I discovered accounts...it was hard because even if I could guess it what accounts he had, the password stopped me. It wasn't proof enough if the login screen automatically started his email address - it happens all the time.

Passwords...

When I made the amnesty deal...that everything he said was up for forgiveness, if only he would be honest. It was a time limited deal and he took advantage...he gave me his passwords. There must have been at least 7 or 8 of them and the kicker was that they were all variations...and these variations would change every 3 months. I didn't stand a chance...

The other day he needs to log onto webmail (DID YOU KNOW THAT WEBMAIL WILL NOT DELETE YOUR ACCOUNT- WHAT ASSHOLES) anyways, he pauses over the keypad as I sit next him. I had given up the pretense of not watching and stared at his long fingers as they hovered over the key board.  I could almost hear the whirring in his brain - which one was it...what if he put in a password he hadn't given me before...high drama indeed. He typed in a password I was familiar with and he shoulders sagged with relief when it went through...

Passwords are good, but be careful if your partner has multiple passwords for multiple things. Anybody that security conscience is hiding something.

I literally taught myself to read code to catch him

To this day, I assume he had other accounts he never told me about... I have lost the advantage of surprise and he has learnt that his naive wife can be an investigative journalist when the need strikes. If he has accounts, it won't be under his name anymore...

But I watch those passwords...he hasn't changed them in looong time. But I am patient and I'll wait and if there is change, you better bet you ass- that I will find what it unlocks...