I thought I could do it. I thought this solo-parenting stint would be different. I thought I could keep the clouds and fog from rolling in. I developed a network of running buddies. I would get out to run on my lunches. I planned out healthy meals – I prepared them a week ahead of time & froze them so I wouldn’t have to cook. Or be stressed. Or eat unhealthy depression causing processed foods. I gave up coffee – also known to cause depression. I planned fun family outings:
Sun – fun swim
Mon – swimming lessons
Tues – stay home & Skype daddy (hubby)
Wed – McDonald’s playland, Skype daddy
Thurs – fun swim? Skype daddy?
Fri – Dinner with Oma & Opa
Sat – indoor playground? relax, clean up the tornado of solo-parenting aftermath, wait for daddy
I really really thought I could do this. I followed my plan. I got out to run. I ate healthy.
But an email came that shook my foundation, my strength, my courage and self-confidence. “Honey, I’ll be home next week, but the week after I have to go away again.” I crumbled into tears. When will this end? How can I continue to be strong? When can we be a family again? Will it ever happen? Am I waiting for a ship that will never set sail?