What defines me?

Cancer , A Dozen Kids , Life, Struggle

I am 18 years old. I am a mother of 2 at the time with my third to be on the way. I have completed my high school education and I am feeling trapped by my abusive husband, my children, my life. I decided that I could go to college for free. I could easily get state aide to provide payment for the daycare and I could get a grant for college. I could do something with my life! What a plan. I worked diligently to put it in action. Let me tell you what understand dhs and the requirements to get into college, daycare paid, books bought, and I had no license at the time. So getting my license was a large task to complete as well to make this happen for me. I had my heart set I was so excited. I pulled off dot after dot on my to do list. I found what seemed like the perfect daycare. The home in a rich sub division. The nanny a young married woman with impeccable cleaning skills. She was licensed and made nutritious meals. I took so much pride in the achievements even though it went unnoticed to everyone else. I remember talking of buying the books to my grandma. I had put up a ad at the local grocery store to babysit and I had babysit with taking my kids to earn the cash for my school books. Well grams thought I was ridiculous. I’d never finish I was wasting my children’s money. As that is who it rightfully should be used for not books. So I didn’t share much of anything about the journey at Lmc that year. I thought the daycare provider was my friend. I think I have pretty much always had a need for that ” friend “. My husband had told me to invite her out one night. We went to karaoke at the sliver beach bar. I knew by the third drink his red headed ass drank I would not enjoy the night. I had no idea how much it would destroy me from the inside. They drank and I mean they drank heavily. I stayed sober of course I was pregnant. My pregnancies we always awful. I was very ill and I had preterm babies. I wasn’t able to have sex. My husband didn’t think waiting was in his duties. He took the daycare provider home that night. He took her to my bed. He repeatedly called me to the room when his drunken state left him unable to stay hard for her. Making me help erect his cock. I’d race from the room and retreat to the kitchen the furthest room from them hoping I could drawn out what they were doing from my mind. He’d call me in again her this time wanting me in there. 🙁 I cried and I cried. I slammed the fridge in anger once after leaving the room and Keith ran out and grabbed my throat looking deep in my eyes and telling me not to do that again. I slept that night in my children’s bedroom floor under the crib. I sobbed and I sobbed. I never could feel good about being naked after. Not until I meet Marc. I couldn’t have confidence to be nude. The Daycare provider’s name was Megan. She and Keith would begin to see each other regularly. Even though she was married herself. She became pregnant in fact. Keith claims the child to be his although Michigan law made him her husband’s. In anger I tried to tell her husband. Keith eventually left me taking every possession I owned. The two of them making me into the monster who was crazy. I was biter and vindictive they would say. I think it changed friendship for me. I can’t trust. I can’t be open. She flaunted that she was better at everything a better wife took better care of the kids. She was his age she had the education and the time as a mom I hadn’t gotten yet. She stole it all from me for awhile. Later dropping it all like a bad habit. I am sure that was about the time she realized what that life she stole entailed.  I desperately wanted to ask her if it was worth it? If her son now is a constant reminder to the person she was to me and her own husband. The man that she had promised to love? I heard she later divorced, remarried, and moved away. I felt relieved knowing we wouldn’t bump into each other at some grocery store. Keith has showed the pictures of his son to myself and the kids. Bragging still of the time he had with her. They’re face book friendship and so fourth. It makes me sick to my stomach. It hurts that one day just as he and his mom did for his grandma and her children. My kids will search for the answers and siblings that they don’t know about and will hear of all these horrid tales. Of the children carelessly created and how they have no relationship or knowledge because their father never could figure out how to be a father. My heart breaks that my pain could be their’s one day.

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