Deadbeat

Sometimes I happen across an image that makes me laugh. Or furious. Or both.

 

This image just so happens to be one of them. The minute I saw it, I saw J in my mind's eye holding up his new phone and talking about how fantastic it was. Anyone who knows him knows exactly what I'm talking about. J went through phones the way that most people go through socks. One year, he had five phones. Five. 5. That's almost one every two months. Meanwhile, we could barely afford the rent at our apartment. I should have clued in sooner, right? (Don't answer that)

After everything else has been said and done, the only thing that really bothers me is that J still doesn't support F - or make any effort to be in his life. That's beyond my realm of comprehension, because F is the best thing in my life by far.

 



I remember the day F was born so vividly I can almost feel the contractions to this day. At (barely) 22, I was just a kid myself – a first timer, terrified of what lay ahead. Labour was frightening enough, but to raise a child is a horse of another colour. I remember feeling such a sense of relief at J holding my hand in the delivery room, promising me that I was doing just fine. I can still see my mom’s eyes – filled with tears – as she told me how beautiful her new grandson was. J and I barely slept that first night in the hospital as we watched our newborn sleeping quietly, fighting back the urge to hold our son in our arms all night. We talked about all we would do as new parents and our future together, as a family.

That was over three years ago, and as it stands right now, J hasn’t seen our son since before New Year’s 2013.

Nobody tells you how hard parenting is – and if they do, they never manage to include the part that your heart will never belong to you again. When F is sad, I’m sad and his laughter ignites my own. I never imagined that I would be in the position I’m in today – the good, the bad and the hilarious. Sometimes, it’s all I can do to NOT pinch myself when it occurs to me that I’m living what I believed would be my biggest nightmare and that, in spite of all the hurt, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.

Except for the part where my son’s Dad turned into a deadbeat.

You see, I’m a big girl. I’m not perfect. I’ve done things that I shouldn’t have done, some things I’m not always proud of. I’ve said bad words, hurtful words and I’ve told a few lies over the years. I can pick up the pieces when I need to, let things roll off my back and I can truck on. I don’t necessarily think that I’ve done anything to deserve some of the things that J put me through, but I’m old enough to deal with it. F hasn’t done anything to anyone. He deserves all of the love and care in the world, especially from his own father.

There is nothing that J could ever do that would possibly hurt more than neglecting our little boy. Every week that passes where I don’t hear from him, every month that he “forgets” to send child support, every weekend F spends here in the city – a five minute drive from J – that we don’t get a text breaks my heart a little more.

I’m luckier than most in that I have the greatest support system anyone could ever hope for. My mother and father have bent over backwards to help me get back on my own two feet – steadying my wobbly legs and whispering words of encouragement as I go. F is blessed to have loving grandparents who would do anything for him, and I’m proud to say that I have friends who keep a smile on my face when I can’t be with my little boy. Even with all of that, the hurt remains... all because of one, simple truth:

J had every opportunity to be a great Dad, and he pissed every one of them away because having fun was more important than having his family.

Nothing hurts your Mommy heart more than watching the father of your child turn his back on them. Regardless of the state of your own relationship, the feelings you harbour towards him, the history you share or the future you're facing, every time he lets your child down he's really letting you down... because when you're a real parent your child is an extension of you - not just someone you see when it's easy or convenient.

And for the record, F is way cooler than the iPhone 5.