Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Birthdays and Why They Suck

Yesterday was Ryder's birthday. He was all happy, of course, but I was not. I hate birthdays. They remind me of the beginnings. They remind me of things before they became miserable. Or rather when they were miserable.

Yesterday I was thinking of when Ryder was born. We waited and waited and waited. Then four years ago, I went into the hospital to be induced. Andrew was there.

My family was there. We were watching the Sox when my water broke. They left and I didn't invite them back. Andrew was there. He was probably more scared than I was.

They gave me an epidural and told me to rest. Andrew went to wait outside. I was later told that he was on the phone getting drugs.

I couldn't rest. The epidural made me itchy so everyone came back and I pushed. Pushed and pushed. Andrew was there. Ryder came and he was amazing. Our family had just grown to three. And that's how it was supposed to be. Three. Because Andrew was there.

And now he's not. He was not there for long after Ryder was born. It was just Ryder and I and it still is. I cannot grasp how that happened. It happened so quickly. He was there, then he wasn't. He doesn't even see Ryder now.

Ryder is amazing. I don't understand how he goes about his day not caring to know that. He loved him so much four years ago. How did that change?


  1. Chin up.

    Enjoy all of the little moments with Ryder that will pass by so quickly, don't look back, look ahead at all the things the two of you will have together. :)

  2. As someone who hasn't spoke to her father in years, I can tell you that I have too wondered why he doesn't/didn't want to see me, but the truth of the matter is, it has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with him. It sucks, for sure, but sometimes people are too fucked up to be the kind of person they're supposed to be.


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