When my first kid’s mother got pregnant, this is the direction the conversation went.
- We’re not keeping it. There’s no way. Neither of us are prepared and we both have so much we still want to do, a kid just won’t work out. And it will be terrible for the kid.
- We can’t give it to my mom, my mom is terrible.
- We can’t give it to her mom, her family is a train wreck and every day there’s some new drama craziness going on for no reason. They’re god awful with money. Three generations in one house is the worst idea ever, and adding a 4th to it along with everybody coming and going all the time? That’s a huge no go.
- She didn’t want to get an abortion and it’s her body, so that was ruled out AFTER we definitely ruled out giving it to either of our families.
- We settled on adoption.
Little did she know, I had been calling around talking to adoption agencies and figuring out what the process should be. But that didn’t matter. She spent a weekend over at her family’s main house (I say main because that’s where her mom, sister and several other people lived, with another branch of family just down the street.) From what she told me, they essentially took turns guilt tripping her into giving the kid to them. “You can’t give away blood!”
I asked if I had any say in it, if there was anything I could say short of failing at trying to take legal action? No, the decision was made. I had no say in it.
I wanted to get the kid some place that was healthy. Some place where she could have a good shot at a stable environment with a family that had their shit together. Not the same shit the mother and I had dealt with growing up. That’s the goal, isn’t it? Always wanting the best for your kid, better than you had? We couldn’t give it. Our families sure as fuck couldn’t give it.
So the day came, I got to cut the cord, and watched the kid go home with her parents. Why didn’t I stop it? It never changed, we didn’t want to have a kid. I sure as hell wasn’t mature enough to deal with one effectively. The mother was, but I sure wasn’t. Was it all my fault and she wanted it but wanted me and tried keeping both by giving it to her family? I don’t know. All I know is what I was told.
Either way, the following months and years were filled with weekly to daily stories of what was going on with her family. All the shit we guessed would happen while the kid was there, sure enough. they happened. All the shit that had gone on, kept going on. All the shit we saw coming, for the most part, came. And the whole time, every single time, every word, all I could think about was I had a part in a baby / toddler growing up in that fucking environment.
So I distanced more and more. The relationship started with me being distant. So I don’t know how long it took her to notice. But by the end I was on another planet. And end it did. It ended several months before the lease was up. And apparently I left her a horrible letter about I was only with her so I had a place to stay which I have absolutely no memory of. I know I was having a horrible time dealing with how to handle the kid situation. I know I resented her more and more for it every single time she told me horrible situations going on where the kid was being raised.
I wasn’t involved at all from the moment the kid was born because I refused to go in half ass. I wasn’t about to be a weekend dad. I wasn’t going to be a partial custody person. I know how shitty it is jumping back and forth between where you live and who’s in charge and what rules to follow and everything in between. What I chose to do was just stay away 100%. But, again, the relationship ended and we moved in opposite directions. Her in with her family and the kid (which may have been a much better thing for stability) – and me in with a work friend for a bit. And when I moved out, it seems like five years passed in but a moment.
I had ended up getting a car shortly after that I knew would be paid off and getting up in the 60-80k miles range about the time the kid would be turning 14. I was still keeping in touch with the mother. I told her I planned to give the car to her when it was time to get a new car. I figured I would get a new car once this one started needing a bunch of maintenance. I’ve done the whole driving while watching ahead to plan where all i can pull off if my car stops working. It’s not fun. As long as I can afford to, I’m not doing that again.
When the kid turned 13, I decided after various discussions with the mother, that I would reach out and see if she wanted to connect on social media and the like. Get to know each other. Something my dad never did for me. I’ve never met my dad, I don’t remember his name anymore besides Ed. I know he went by Ed but I believe his name was Richard? Who knows. Anyway, I know how teenage years go and how my brain is, how my mom’s brain is, how my sister’s brain is. So it is safe to say her brain is like that too. And I learned later, it is.
I was going to decide for myself if I was going to follow through with giving her the car. I had a job where I could easily afford to buy a new car and make the payments. I was married to somebody else in a stable relationship. The only thing I wasn’t sure about is if the kid was remotely responsible enough to actually deserve being given a car. I wanted to establish that and make the decision for myself before I pulled the trigger.
Five or six months in, I realized I think this 13 year old is as mature as I was at 20-25. I’ve always been behind the curve on ACTING mature and being responsible. It took me moving out to start learning about actual responsibility. She seemed to be ahead of me on multiple fronts. Certainly for that age, far far ahead of me.
So I pulled the trigger. I started getting some of the mid-life work done on the car so they didn’t have to. Then the wife informed me she wanted to have a kid. Apparently at some point in the years prior, I had commented if I didn’t have a kid before I was 35, I was never going to. And I was closing in on it rapidly. I still never wanted a kid. I think this earth is a fucked up place and humans are nothing but cancer, overall. And I don’t want to put any more people on this earth to have to deal with it.
I was struggling with free time as it was at that point. And a kid would slash that free time drastically down. With that I was struggling with depression, and that dramatically increased with this new stress. But I had already made the decision to get the car to my existing kid. Plus, if I was a stay at home dad, I wouldn’t really need a car as much because I wouldn’t have a job to shuttle back and forth to. She made about ten dollars more an hour than I did, so it was natural that I would be the stay at home dad since day care is so expensive that I would only make a bit more than day care would cost.
But, I did it anyway. New kid already arrived, took my car to my existing kid, everything seemed well. There’s a lot more to it, but this is why I’m writing this fresh here instead of copying and pasting the existing to cut out 3/4 of the volume (actually a lot more than that.)
I’m not very capable of censoring myself. So shit I post on social media is quite unfiltered. I don’t hold much back. And I had two facebook accounts for years. One was my personal one where I was myself. The other was my public one which work places knew about. I gave her the choice and informed her of what either were. She wanted to stay on the one where I was myself. I think that was a big mistake, in the end.
Over the previous few months before writing this post, she had reacted to some of the things i shared with comments like “STOP” and the like. I can’t even remember what the posts were about. Some of them weren’t that bad at all (by my twisted standards.)
Then one day, I was having a disagreement comparing notes on something (I honestly can’t remember the topic now) in comments with one of her friendsand after a couple dozen comments (I don’t remember how many times we had gone back and forth talking about the subject) – the daughter jumps on and comments something like “you’re a 35 year old man arguing with a 15 year old on the internet. stop.”
That pissed me off on multiple levels. So, I can only comment on something if it’s positive and not interact with anybody who disagrees? So many questions. So I talked to her in private messages (the daughter.) Among the points was my being annoyed by her telling me to stop various things for no reason at all. It didn’t go well. I wasn’t pissed off, much less annoyed, much less arguing with anybody until she said that. Then i was pissed. And it boiled down almost immediately to her only responding with “okay.” and then when “I’m not going to argue with you about this” came out of her, I lost my shit. So you can just say shit and not talk about it? Really?
I knew I had to step away. I felt like I was nothing but a dark force in her life from the DNA level all the way to being a bad example on social media. So I blocked her until I could calm down and figure out how to be more patient with her.
Few days passed and I had been talking to her mom off and on. I was debating on how long I should chill before unblocking her and talking to her again, when my sister messaged me asking why she was unfriended by the daughter. I looked and my new kid’s account had been unfriended also. I didn’t know how to react to that. The only thing I could think was try to do damage control.
I sent her a friend request and she messaged me something about it not being healthy to come in and out of her life like this. What? It’s been a few days. She had my phone number. I just blocked her on social media for a bit after a stupid fight. We talked a bit and she made it clear that no, she wasn’t interested. I could find out what’s going on with her through her mom.
I had been asking her mom how she was doing but the answers were always pretty much one sentence. I liked it a hell of a lot more before when I could see what was going on in her life by all the stuff she was posting each day. It wasn’t as good as being there, but it was at least an open window in. I was checking her profiles to see what was going on at least 2-3 times a day.
She had told me at one point during the argument I said “fuck you.” which was not in my chat logs and I don’t believe I would have said that in those words. Certainly I essentially said fuck you in other words because jumping into a conversation out of nowhere with “you’re 35 arguing with a 15 year old on the internet.” definitely deserves a fuck you. Especially when there was no argument (not from my end, anyway.) She wanted me to apologize for blocking her I think? but I wouldn’t, because it was for the best so I could shut up and calm down. And I wanted her to apologize for telling me to stop posting whatever, which she claimed was her joking around (which makes no sense at all.)
So that’s it. Apparently when I disowned my own mother some years back I should have cut off contact with my half sister?? According to the daughter’s actions. It makes no sense to me. Some friends tell me to just chill and wait a few months or years and she’ll come around. Will she? I don’t know. This planet and all the huimans on it are fucked up and I have no hope at all for any of it to get better. Sure, some people live great lives and think the world is an awesome place but I envy their ability to overlook pretty much everything going on around them and around the world.