My Options

I still have them, I guess, despite the overwhelming feeling that I've been backed into a corner with nowhere to turn.

I woke Mo up no less than 5 times this morning, starting an hour before we were supposed to leave.

At five minutes until 8, he pulled the covers over his head.

I begged, I pleaded.

"Just reschedule," he said.

I tried to explain that we can't. That I am supposed to start Lupron TOMORROW and this stuff needs to be knocked out NOW. That next week is a bunch of other stuff that has to get done. That I bent over backwards to get him an appointment on his day off so that he wouldn't have to miss work. That the next IVF run we'd qualify for would be in January.

That I wasn't willing to reschedule, again.

That if he backed out on me again, we were through with treatments.

That my heart, my spirit couldn't take this any longer.

He remained in bed.

The message he's sending is pretty clear, isn't it? Of course, he's going to play the "I'm sick" card. Only he's ALWAYS sick when it matters, and it's because of the choices HE makes. He chose last night to stay up until three in the morning, knowing we had this appointment. He chose to stay in bed, despite my tears and my practically begging him not to.

He made his choice.

Now, it's time for me to make mine.

* * * * * * * * * *

Option #1: Call in sick tomorrow. And Friday. Head home to my mom's (12 hours away) with less than $2000 in my pocket. Leave behind my precious furbabies and try to sort this out from there.

Option #2: Wait until my mom arrives for Thanksgiving. Have her and my stepdad help me pack, and go back home with them. This option still leaves me next to no money (although I'll get paid on the 30th) and forces me to leave behind Fat Girl and Big Boy, as my parents' apartment is not big enough for them.

Option #3 Make it until Christmas break. Try, try, to negotiate a settlement of some kind with Mo. Hope that he recognizes how much he's hurt me already and doesn't try to make me miserable for the next six weeks. The benefit of this option is that I will have more money to take, since we get paid on the 30th and will receive December's check before we leave for the holidays. An additional $4000 in your pocket is nothing to sneeze at when you are starting over from scratch. This also allows me some time to try to find a small house to rent back home, so that I can take at least Fat Girl with me. I can't imagine for the life of me falling asleep alone, without at least one of them to cuddle me as I sob over the brokenness of my marriage. If I choose this route, I may take the Thanksgiving holiday and head home (instead of my mom coming here), which will allow me to house-hunt in person.

None, and I repeat NONE, of these options is what I really want. What I really want is for my husband -- who is buried somewhere, hidden underneath this stranger I no longer know -- to emerge, to take me in his arms, to tell me that this has all been a bad dream. That we are going to be fine, that we are going to have the family I've always dreamed of.

It's taken me a long time to get here, but I finally realize this is never going to happen. No matter how hard I work at it, no matter how much space or time I give him, Mo is never going to be the man I thought he was, the man I want him to be. Our differences are too pronounced, even if our ultimate goal is the same. I can continue to spin my wheels for the next six months, a year or two. But the only result is going to be me older, and still unhappy.

Already, I feel myself wavering. I called my mom this morning, told her what happened, how I thought it was over. I went to the bookstore to pick up the "Do-It-Yourself" divorce kit. While there, I encountered a hundred books about sticking it out, making it work, not giving up. I could feel how easy it would be to do so. How easy to come back home, pretend it's no big deal. Pretend that Mo and I are still okay.

Even as I type this, I'm having a crisis of faith. Am I overreacting? Reading too much into his behavior/motivations? Could we possibly salvage this marriage and make it work?

My head knows better. It's just that my heart, as broken and shattered as it is, just doesn't want to listen.