Behind the Smile: The Untold Story

Since I started this blog, I’ve been debating whether or not to share this story…the story that lead me to this place in my life.  It has helped me become the person who I am today, but sometimes too much truth and seriousness is not a good idea, especially not for me.  

I laugh and I joke about the relationship with Micah’s Daddy now because I’ve truly grown up from the experience…but sometimes it haunts me just as a realization of what was and a reminder of my goal to continue moving forward no matter what.  

A little over a year later, I’m ready to share my story…so here it goes!

It’s funny how when you’re in a relationship, you ignore all the signs, all the questions, all the concerns, giving that person the benefit of the doubt each time — but finally, when you have the facts smack dab in front of you, it doesn’t matter what the other person says, you are done, through, finito.

I was in a relationship with an individual that has no respect for women whatsoever, an unprofessed sex addict, breeder (he possibly has over 20 children, including Micah), liar, deceiver — well, you get the point.  

Yet, the most beautiful thing came from that tumultuous relationship — Micah.

Everything in my relationship with Micah’s Daddy went downhill once I confirmed that I was pregnant.  I found out I was pregnant at the beginning of December 2010.  By New Year’s eve 2011, I found out about two separate women that Micah’s Daddy was not only “messing around” with, but also having full-blown relationships with.  He was going on vacations with them and everything, claiming that they were either work-related trips or trips with his motorcycle club.  It turns out that they were truly vacations with his other girlfriends.

As angry as I was, and yes, I was pissed beyond all rational thought — I decided to stay.  Not for him, but for our unborn child.  I wanted to give my child the chance for a family unit, even as dysfunctional as it was.

He wasn’t even apologetic, just completely cocky about it (laughing and mocking me), as though I knew or should’ve known the entire time.  He even indicated that we weren’t in a “true” relationship and that he never lead on that we were moving forward as anything more than friends.  Yeah, what a load of crock.

Right before Micah was born (I was scheduled for a C-section the following day), I found a ton of pictures on his computer.  They were all sexual in nature, as though he was creating a documentary of his conquests…and there were DOZENS of women.  I even found pictures of him having intercourse with a woman in my apartment.  (You can imagine how ticked I was – I felt completely disrespected!)  Lastly, I found pictures of a newborn baby.  

As an aside…he told me that the baby pictures were his friends and he was trying to put on a CD for her.  He coincidentally excluded the fact that they were pictures of his son (who btw is only 2 1/2 months older than Micah).  

That was the last straw for me — I was through! No more ignoring the signs, questions, concerns — no more benefit of the doubt.  There was no turning back now! 

Micah was born the next day…as I mentioned in A Birth Story, Micah’s Daddy was nowhere to be found up until an hour before the C-section.  I was heated, but I was just so happy to see Micah when he was born.  It was such a turning point for me.  As I watched him hold Micah for the first time, I knew that it was possibly the last time that we would look like this family unit.  

Micah’s Daddy barely spent any time with us in the hospital.  He spent the night the first night.  Although Micah and I were both in the hospital for 4 nights, we saw him for about 2 hours total after that first night.  He even missed out on signing the birth certificate.  He had to go back to the hospital (after he dropped us home) to sign the birth certificate.

The first 6 weeks was really hard…money was extremely tight due to my disability checks coming in later than expected.  There was no support financially or emotionally from Micah’s Daddy.  

At one point, Micah’s pediatrician recommended that we take Micah to the Children’s Hospital due to an issue that he had seen with his head.  I was traumatized…I cried for days concerned about whether Micah would be ok or not.  I was so overly emotional when I first had Micah (I’m sure many of you mothers can relate)…there was no support (only mocking and laughter) from him.  

Grandma (my mom) was truly my rock during this time.  She was staying at the house at the time, waiting for her apartment to be ready.  Even though she was driving me absolutely nuts, she cooked for me every day and came upstairs periodically throughout the day to check up on both of us. I couldn’t carry Micah down the stairs, so she would carry him down for me or watch him while I went to take a shower.  I know she was extremely angry and aware of the lack of support that Micah’s Daddy offered during that time, but she never said a word.  She was truly just there for the both of us — to make sure that we were ok.

I returned to work after 6 weeks instead of the planned 8-10 weeks.  My doctor was highly upset because he was concerned about my high blood pressure issues and the fact that I just had a C-section, but what was I going to do? It was 6 weeks and I had only received one disability check.  I couldn’t stay out of work any longer.  He hesitantly signed off on the paperwork, but wanted me to come by once a week for checkups.  

I contacted my manager and I was back to work.  Those were the most miserable few weeks of my life.  I missed my baby like crazy.  He was with Grandma so I knew that he was ok, but it was heartbreaking dropping him off each morning.  

I became increasingly bitter and cold towards Micah’s Daddy during those weeks.  I was so angry with him for not being there for both of us the way he needed to be.  I was irrational at times, verbally abusing him every chance I got — in person and via text.  He got to the point where he just slept downstairs instead of coming upstairs and feeling my wrath.  

It all came to a head on a Saturday in October 2011.  Micah was only 9 weeks at the time.  We got into a HUGE altercation that became seriously physical.  He threw the first blow while standing over Micah on the bed.  I was furious.  I kicked him off the bed and away from Micah, who was screaming hysterically and scratching at his face.  The fighting continued, with the police later being called and arrests being made.  Unfortunately, I was the one blamed in the end.  

Micah’s Daddy put a restraining order on me, saying that I was a threat to him and our child, allowing him to take Micah until we went to court.  I spent 5 of the longest nights of my life, without my child.  Still extremely emotional from just giving birth, I considered a number of things that I would never have thought of otherwise.  I became severely depressed; I didn’t go to work, I barely ate, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Micah and how he looked the last time I saw him.  My mom was so worried about me that she even had members of her church come over to speak with me and pray over me.  I must admit that I needed that prayer; I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.

We went to court and he just dropped all the charges.  I still had a number of charges filed by the township and had to pay a number of fees…  

But at the end of the day, I had my child back.  Micah and I moved into a bedroom downstairs while I got everything in order so we could get our own place.  That time went by really quickly.  We shipped out happily in December, less than 2 months after this whole situation occurred.

A little over a year later, I still cannot go a night without Micah; I am definitely still traumatized and I won’t pretend otherwise, but in time (like everything else), that scar will heal too.  The first night will be extremely hard, but it will be ok.  

In the meanwhile, I have grown tremendously in the past year.  I have become a strong person and mother.  I have made some important steps towards improving both of our lives.  We are happy.  I couldn’t ask for more.

And that’s it – my story is my story…it is what it is.  I don’t regret anything in my life…it is what made me the person who I am today.  I am a bigger and better person because of it.

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