Love and Marriage

I breastfed my son for 14 months.

I don’t say this as a means of bragging. I am not one of those mothers, the ones who believe you should get extra credit for breasting it rather than bottle feeding. I did it because my life afforded me the flexibility to, I found it more convenient to not clean bottles, and frankly, I required less anti-depressants while doing it. In fact, I am fairly certain I would still be on hardly any meds at all if I had just become a wet nurse.

And though I believe I am deserving of no bonus points, it is something I felt pride in, and when I finish my 14 months of breast service, I was given the most beautiful gift. My husband went to Gap and bought me a super cool (RED) night shirt that said Admi(red).

How kind and thoughtful is that? This is not a surprise. He is both those things in spades.

And yet this month I chose to end our marriage. To separate.

Yesterday, I said goodbye to my husband, hopefully not to the man, or wonderful friend. I know not to the excellent father. But to him being my husband, I said goodbye to that yesterday and it sucked balls.  We hugged and he said “I do love you.” And I sobbed and said “I do love you” back. Our words were filled with certainty and honesty and it broke my heart. Telling our son his parents are separating broke my heart too. And yet, my heart is still here, to love them both, and to take care of myself.

And you know what else is still here? That admi(red) night shirt. It is sitting in a drawer, and every time I see it I am reminded of the man I hope will always be my friend and the man my son is beyond lucky to have as his dad.