Category: Journal

Note: From now on dh will be referred to as Sailor. If you are new to my site you might want to read the previous chapters in Our Story before reading on.

After our three weeks together Sailor left for Panama. For several weeks we called and wrote letters talking mainly about our newborn daughter. She was an absolutely delightful baby which was good since I had no idea what I was doing. When she was seven weeks old I went back to school full time and she spent three days a week at the babysitter’s house. During evening classes she hung out with my family and never lacked for attention.

As time went on Sailor and I drifted slowly apart. His letters came less and less often until they stopped coming all together. I busied myself with school and friends and adjusted to life as a single mom. I still wrote regularly with baby updates and mailed videos of her swinging in her swing or sitting in her chair, but only because I felt obligated.

Finally Thanksgiving weekend I decided it was time to have a talk with Sailor. I called him and told him I wanted a divorce. We were two different people, with two different lives, and we had nothing in common. Wasn’t it better just to call it all a big mistake and move on? Sailor didn’t see it that way at all. Even though he had stopped writing he still had a daughter whom he cared very much about, he wasn’t about to lose her…

He told me there was no way we were getting a divorce and if I proceeded he would fight me for custody of our daughter. This upset me terribly because she didn’t even know him, he had only seen her for 3 weeks of her life. How dare he try to take away MY daughter. To make matters worse he informed me that he was purchasing a plane ticket and would be arriving the next day so we could work things out.

In my opinion, there was nothing to work out. This had all been one big mistake, it was better to move on with our lives than to continue. Nevertheless he arrived the next day with plans to stay for a month.

Much to my surprise my parents were completely behind Sailor, they did not think we should get a divorce and were determined to help us work it out. They even scheduled several sessions with a counselor they knew from church. This caused me to grow even angrier as I now felt the entire world was against me. I really believed it would be better for my daughter and I to start over, it could not be good for a child to grow up with two parents who didn’t even like each other.

At our first counseling session I steeled myself in the chair with arms crossed determined not to show one ounce of emotion. I answered the questions with one word and listened as Sailor claimed to want to work things out. I thought to myself that he was only doing this to get back at me for wanting to take his daughter, he says one thing to the counselor and then does something else when we are together. With each counseling session my bitterness grew and grew.

Finally at one of our last sessions (before Sailor was to return to Panama) the counselor gave sailor a stack of books to read. He told Sailor that he must read them in order for our marriage to work. I remember thinking that no book in the world was going to make our marriage work, but at least I didn’t have to read anything. School was starting in a few days and I would have plenty of homework to keep my busy. The counselor also told Sailor he would need to write me a letter once a week once he was back in Panama. Sailor assured him that he would, while I knew there was no way he would keep his promise.

Finally Sailor returned to Panama and I was free once again. I knew it was only a matter of time before he went back to his old ways, once he didn’t have my parents and the counselor checking up on him. At the end of the first week I was surprised when I found a letter from Sailor in the mailbox. I was even more surprised when I opened it and found out that he had been reading some of the books the counselor had given him.

As the weeks went on more and more letters arrived in the mailbox. Sailor was eagerly reading every book the counselor had given him. I was hesitant to believe he could change. During this time Sailor received new orders. He We would be moving to a small town in West Virginia.

Was I ready to move away from the safety and security of my family? What about my degree, I only needed 30 more credits to graduate. Would I be moving back in with an angry man or had he really changed? And what about our little girl? Was I ready to be a full time mom without the help of baby sitters, grandparents, and an aunt and uncle?

What change had occurred in Sailor, that made me think I should give this marriage another try?

Writer’s note: This is the story of how I became The Happy Housewife. I am writing as I have time and try to publish a new chapter every few weeks. This page will be updated when I write the next chapter. If you don’t want to miss the next installment you can subscribe to my blog.

This is Our Story, or the story of how I met my husband, got married a few weeks later, and eventually became The Happy Housewife. This story has a beginning, but no end… yet. I publish a chapter every few weeks, so if you don’t want to miss an installment subscribe to my blog.

As I sat on the airplane a feeling of relief swept over me. There was no sadness, not even regret, just relief to finally be free of my problems (or so I thought). My relief was short lived as shortly after everyone boarded the plane I heard my name being called over the intercom system. It was at this point in my life that I realized why innocent people run from the police. I knew I had done nothing wrong, but I didn’t want to come to the front of the plane. What could possibly be the problem? I was not going to get off that airplane, I was leaving and no one was going to stop me.

After about 30 seconds of contemplating not identifying myself, I realized I did not want to spend the night in jail in a foreign country (not sure why I thought I would end up in jail) and I made my way to the front of the plane. Once I reached the front they told me there was a problem and that I need to go to security. I could not believe this was happening. I was led off the plane and through the airport where eventually I ended up in a room with several security people and all my luggage. My luggage was not the nice black stuff with wheels and zippers either. It was old with clasps that made a clicking sound when they were shut, except the clasps didn’t work so well so we had duct taped my luggage together so it didn’t fall apart.

The duct tape had been cut off and my luggage was open and they were going through all my stuff. I felt like this was all a very, very bad dream, but it wasn’t, it was real and happening to me. Then a female security guard patted me up and down as I watched in horror as they tore apart my luggage. Finally after several minutes they decided I was not a threat I was told I could reboard the plane. My luggage however was in total disarray and I began to accept the fact that my stuff might not make it to Miami.

I arrived in Florida and quickly settled back into my old life, well except for the fact that I was married and pregnant. I spent my days hanging out at my parent’s house (I had no car) and my nights watching basketball on television with my dad and a few friends. Dh and I spoke occasionally on the phone, but I did write him a letter almost every day (remember life before email). I am not sure what those letters said, I think I just felt it was my duty to write them. The more time that passed the more we grew apart.

As time came for the baby to be born we made arrangements for dh to fly to the states. I decided it would be better for him to arrive after my due date just in case the baby decided to come late. Thank goodness I did that because my due date, June 20th, came and went. By June 21st I was miserable. By June 25th, I decided that I wasn’t ever going to have the baby. By July 1st I was desperate. I arrived at my appointment with plans to beg and plead for an induction. It was July in Florida and I was miserable!

Fortunately my doctor decided to check me to see if I was ready to be induced. I was 5cm so he sent me to the hospital to have the baby. When I arrived at the hospital there were no available beds and since I wasn’t in labor they wouldn’t admit me. The nurses encouraged me to go for a walk to help move things along and I would be admitted. I walked for 15 hours! From 9 am to midnight my mom and I walked the mall, the hospital, the parking lot and every place else we could think of. Every few hours we would return to the floor where they would send me away because I wasn’t in “active labor.”  Finally at midnight after walking the entire day plus not eating my mom put her foot down. She told the nurses they either needed to admit me or send me home, but those were the only two options.

They admitted me.

By that time I was completely exhausted, my feet ached, and were covered in blisters from walking all day. They decided to break my water and surprise, surprise we had a baby 45 minutes later.

Our little girl was born 14 months after we got married. We were officially a family.

Dh arrived in the states when she was three days old and for three weeks we “played house.” I think the constant, feeding, pooping, and crying (me not the baby :), distracted us from the myriad of problems I had left down in Panama. For three weeks things seemed alright. Perhaps I had made a mistake in leaving, maybe things weren’t as bad as I thought. We were two adults, surely we could work out of differences.

Now that there was another person involved, things suddenly became a lot more complicated.