The Confession

Remember my friend, Ms. Mouthy from Mouthy, Lips, and Sweaty's Karaoke-O-Rama?  Just as I have been a mother to an only daughter, for the last 4.5 years, Ms. Mouthy has been a mother to an only son.  Most of our friends whose first child was born around the same time as my 6.5 year-old daughter, has had their second, third, and for some, fourth child by now.  

Among our group of close friends, Ms. Mouthy and I were the only mothers with one child.  While our friends whined and complained about dealing with endless bouts of flu being passed around their chldren, or about having to keep their flock from clawing each others' eyes out, Ms. Mouthy and I were silently giving thanks to the Lord Almighty that we weren't in their shoes.  Or when the price of the airline tickets kept on going up, we were secretly glad that having only one child, we could still afford a little more luxury of going on vacations and some extra money to spend.

About three weeks ago, Ms. Mouthy bought a pregnancy-test kit following an atypical delay in her punctual monthly courses.  Turned out Ms. Mouthy is pregnant! Other than her husband, I was the first person to whom she passed the news to.  Initially, Ms. Mouthy had mixed feelings about this "surprise" pregnancy.  Having just gotten off birth-control very recently, she wasn't expecting to get pregnant right away.  And having been a mom to an only child for the last four-and-a-half years, she voiced her worries about all the changes this new pregnancy would bring.  

News of pregnancy, especially when it's not mine (LOL), always brings me such an indescribable joy.  I revel in knowing that a new, wonderful life has been created; that there exists something pure and good amidst all the craziness in the world today.  When I was pregnant with my daughter, I was (typically) too busy worrying and panicking over my capabilities to be a mother.  But when it's someone's else's, I was free to simply appreciate the miracle of creation, to pay my respects to a woman's ability to nurture a growing life within her womb.

Plus, I love holding a baby in my arms: the smell of their skin, the way their fingers curled around mine so trustingly, the oh-so-soft layers of their hair.  It's been years since my own daughter was a baby, and there were times when I wished she didn't grown up so fast!

The moment's gaiety, however, slowly yielded to feelings of desolation, as stark reality that has been my life for the last few months came crashing in.  For a fleeing second I wished this happy news came at a better time.  It seemed sinful to taint something so positive and pure with sadness coming from what's happening in my life right now.

For the last one month and a half, my life has been hell.  My marriage is falling apart, and despite efforts to the contrary, divorce has become a likely option.  One moment I was living what I thought was my 'real' life, and the next, I found out that it was all just an illusion.  Marriage is hard-work, I know that.  Mine has had its share of ups and downs, but I've always thought--until now that is--that I've married for life, for better for worse, in sickness and in health.  I never thought it would end with my husband saying that he's lost bits and pieces of his feelings for me throughout the past ten years... and that in essence, he's fallen out of love for me.

What does one do when the person you've chosen to spend the rest of your life with, the person who had promised to love and cherish you until the day you die, told you that he no longer has feelings for you?  I wish this is some nightmare I can wake up from, or some flashbacks to some of my high-school relationships.  But it's not.  It's spoken by my husband.  I married this man.  I have a child with this man.  I've spent the last ten years of my life with this man.