Where to start....when your stress comes second....
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|Sun, 10-09-2011 - 8:00am|
Being a wife and a mom are two of the biggest joys in my life, but are- under ordinary circumstances- stressful. Under extraordinary circumstances they.........I have no words with which to fill in that blank.
So, if you are in for the long haul, here is some background. (To cut to the chase, skip the red.) My husband and I are both recovering alcoholics, for over two decades. He was married prior to getting sober, had a son by this woman, as well as two stepsons from her first marriage. I never met the eldest stepson, but for 10 years our family consisted of one of the stepsons, and the biological son, and the daughter we added a couple years into our marriage. We didn't even meet until the divorce was final.
The first wife was...uh...nuts. Certifiable. Can't even begin to tell you the stories, but she had custody of the kids. We had every other weekend and every Wednesday. About 8 years ago, the biological son stopped coming over, would not take my husband's calls and the ex said that if we called or came over she would have us arrested for harassment. Needless-to-say, my daughter was devastated that the person for whom the sun rose and set in her world was no longer in the picture. A couple years after that we had our second daughter, a blessing but quite the surprise. (I turned 43 six weeks after she was born).
My eldest daughter is brilliant and lovely, but has asthma and when she takes her emergency inhalor, she gets muscle spasms so bad she can't stand. She also has migraines and anxiety attacks. My youngest is 7 and a spitfire.
This time last year we found out that my father in law (with whom we had a strained but cordial relationship) had esophageal cancer. He went through chemo and radiation, and was hospitalized the end of January, beginning of February. In February my father had a massive heart attack (his 5th) and four days later my father-in-law died of a blood clot, right after being released from the hospital (no, they weren't in the same hospital, we were running across town every few hours.) My estranged stepson did go to his grandpa's funeral and was lovely to me and cordial to his dad. He finally met his youngest sister, who promptly wrote him a huge letter about how glad she was he finally met her.