Two weeks ago, I asked my husband to take Friday, November 2 off of work. I told him, in very clear language, that I needed him that day for two reasons. First, I was going to the doctor to discuss a hysterectomy and I needed someone who cares about me there to support me. I also wanted someone there as an extra set of ears, to help clarify, to help ask questions. And quite honestly, this is not a decision that just affects me. Secondly, I told him that we needed some time together, without the kids. It has been a long time since we have had that time. The last time we did it, we talked about making it more regular and that hasn’t happened.
He told me it was no problem and we have talked about it often. Even though I had this doctor’s appointment, I was looking forward to it. I had planned on taking the kids to my parents’ house as usual, then spending the morning doing whatever we felt like. Then, go to the doctor and after, have a nice lunch and maybe do some shopping. Then, pick up the kids and enjoy an evening of family. In my mind, it was the perfect day.
Last night, he hurt me more than he has in a long time. I even had the thought that him physically hitting me would have hurt less. He told me that he had to meet a family tomorrow afternoon. He was still going to take the morning off and go to the appointment with me, but then he had to go into work. I was devistated. In the discussion that ensued (I have to pat myself on the back because I didn’t yell once), he just kept saying, “I don’t understand why you’re so upset. I’m going to the doctor with you.” I needed him to understand why I was so hurt and that this is something that happens regularly. Finally, I used something that I never thought I would use. I said, “Remember those times when your dad cancelled on you? Remember when he bailed? That’s how you’re making me feel right now.” He looked like I had just hit him with a ton of bricks. And he hasn’t talked to me since. I know that was a low blow, but he wasn’t understanding what I was trying to tell him. And I NEEDED him to understand.
Now, I’m angry that he has once again chosen work over his family and I feel guilty for saying what I did. And of course, I didn’t get much sleep last night. I am so far past the point of exhaustion I’m afraid my body is going to just shut down and go to sleep, regardless of where I’m at or what I’m doing.