I remember standing in my bathroom and looking at the two lines on the pregnancy test. I looked at myself in the mirror and laughed, hysterically, out loud. I felt relieved to tell my husband that I was pregnant. I had been with him, and only him, during the time of my daughter's conception.
My pregnancy seemed like the miracle that we needed to save our marriage.
Things were different between K and I. We'd still see each other, occasionally, but only as friends. We'd stopped having sex as I became more focused on having a baby and he worked diligently to save his own marriage. We were both gradually retreating back to our spouses and away from each other.
The next few years of my married life were fantastic. My husband and I loved our daughter and being parents. It was new and different but we felt that we made a great parenting team.
In 2002, my husband and I lost our dog of 10 years. I was laid off from my high paying job that same year and decided to become a stay at home mom. My husband wanted to be the sole breadwinner but I could tell that it did create more stress on him.
We decided we wanted another child and started trying to get pregnant. We were thrilled to conceive again. Then I miscarried in the fall of 2003.
Depression fell on both of us and by the time I did get pregnant with my youngest daughter in the spring of 2004, my husband had already emotionally checked out of the marriage. He eventually had his own affair.
In his anguish and guilt, he began asking questions about my relationship with K. After 4 years, he finally displayed all of the anger and hurt that he, apparently, had kept hidden from me.
Each of us blamed the other for our infidelities and depression.
We were both in too much pain to try to make our marriage work. We spent a year trying to recover and finally let go of the last strands of our marriage in the spring 2006.
K and I remained friends after the birth of my child but saw/talked to each other less and less. His marriage survived. His wife then had an infidelity of her own. According to K, they each felt that their affairs made their marriage stronger.
He and I are still friends - though we only see each other once every few months for lunch. He says his wife asks about me, now and again, and wonders how I'm doing. He doesn't want to tell her that he sees me occasionally or that we email every now and then. It frustrates me. I don't want to live in secret anymore.
One day, a few months back, I went to a luncheon with several of my former co-workers and K showed up... with his wife. He was visibly nervous but she and I hugged and caught up on old times as if nothing ever happened. He later told me that she said she was happy to see me.
Since Gentleman Jack has been in my life, K has been a great support, as usual. He's also sensing that I have moved forward. I have taken more and more steps away from him. He is fading slowly into the background of my past.
I will always love him. I will always be thankful for him because despite the pain, I've learned much about love, who I am and what I deserve.
I recently became Facebook friends with a former co-worker who worked with K, his wife and I. It was difficult for me because she was there and I know she knew what was going on. I know she judged me. She probably still does to see that I'm divorced now.
Then again, this entire catharsis has felt good to me. Maybe the best way to release the past is to shine a light on it, look at it, take the air out of it, get it out of the closet... maybe that's how MacKenzie Phillips felt recently too. Its not fun. Its not pretty.
But maybe that's what confession is all about. Maybe that is what it takes to create a future that is brighter instead of projecting our past into the path before us.
I certainly hope so.
"Conflict must be resolved. It cannot be evaded, set aside, denied, disguised, seen somewhere else, called by another name, or hidden by deceit of any kind, if it would be escaped. It must be seen exactly as it is, where it is thought to be, in the reality which has been given it, and with the purpose that the mind accorded it. For only then are its defenses lifted, and the truth can shine upon it as it disappears.
~A Course in Miracles lesson of the day, Nov. 29