I remember seething whenever an intact, apparently happy little family walked past me or sat near me. Yes - seething. At happy mums, dads, kids.
I hated that I had become this person - I wasn't that person, I am not that person. I was momentarily disfigured by grief.
It stopped when I had an aha moment of sorts - I was NEVER going to have that life with that man. Even if we were 'intact'.
A painful and uncomfortable truth. I'm still pissed off about and I feel terribly defrauded it but even that is waning.
I don't know what came first, acceptance or surrender. Both essential to my healing. I was stuck in an ugly place and reached a point where I had enough.
I think I will always mourn the family I set out to have. I didn't sign up for this. It is so fucking unbelievably unfair. To my girls, to me. He failed them. I feel I failed them in choosing him (yes, not good but I'm working on it).
The dream has changed slightly but I can still have that dream. MY little family IS intact, it is happy, loving, joyful, cuddly and everyone in it feels cherished.
You can still have the family you want - try to think beyond its composition and consider its heart and soul. The heart of my family beats loud and strong - I can almost see the vibrations of the beat. I couldn't hear it in my M for all of the noisy misery, I couldn't see it for all the head in the sand, gouging my eyes out I was doing.
I'm sad for all I missed. I am thrilled that my fog was cleared in time. I could have missed another 5, 10 years whilst busily beating that dead horse of an M.
I feel blessed to have a second chance to have that family I always dreamed of.