This past Tuesday ranks as one of the worst days of my life. Probably right after the Monday that we got the Azoospermia news. I can't even recreate it all in my head anymore, with enough detail to write a recap of everything that took place leading up to that day, but it all happened. And we are here now.
Mr Fox is at his third meeting. This is his third day sober.
And at the same time that I feel scared shitless, I am strangely confident that everything will work out just fine.
It was so much simpler a few months back, when I cornered him in the shower and told him that I felt like he was choosing alcohol over me and that I wanted him to stop drinking. He said okay, and ended the conversation. I thought it was done, and over, and that we could move beyond it.
But the days passed and I *knew* that something wasn't right. Was it pills? Was he taking my anxiety meds? Should I hide them, count them? Something wasn't right. I even mentioned it to a friend, it was a relief to say it out loud, but felt like a betrayal of my beloved. He promised to stop drinking and I had no reason to ask him why something felt off - but it was, and I just thought that I must be crazy.
I wasn't crazy. He was lying. I still have a hard time wrapping my head around it. He thought, in his diseased mind, that as long as I didn't actually see him drinking that it was okay, and had started drinking again. I wasn't crazy.
When I discovered his stash in the garage, he was right there, and my first reaction was relief. Thank God it wasn't pills. I hugged him and told him I loved him, and that I was relieved it wasn't pills. But then over the next hours, I realized that it was betrayal. He had been lying to me, and didn't even realize how serious that was. I slept on the couch. I just needed some space to figure out what I was thinking. We talked the next night, but he really didn't get it. and I slept on the couch again. Nothing, in 14 years, has ever happened that led us not choosing to sleep next to each other. But I felt so alone emotionally, and needed to be alone physically.
We made love on Monday night, and I sobbed. We didn't talk about it, just loved each other.
But on Tuesday, it all fell apart on Tuesday. I said something that I still can't wrap my head around. I ended up telling him that I was taking our son and going to stay at my moms house until he had a plan he could share with me. I want to say that he made me give him an ultimatum, but somehow that doesn't feel fair to him. But once those words were spoke, everything changed. He finally 'got it'. He knew I was serious. He felt the weight of his choices. And yet, I wish I could take it back. I wish I could take those words back.
He negotiated two days to 'get his head ready to go to a meeting', and I agreed. So on Thursday night, he told me that he'd had his last drink, and on Friday at noon he went to a meeting.
The thing is, Mr Fox is an amazing husband and father. I love him with every cell in my heart. I knew that I was marrying an alcoholic and that someday we'd cross this bridge. I choose to make this man the father of my child, knowing that the day would come when I would have to hold him accountable for managing this disease. And I wouldn't change a thing.
The thing is, that if his 'plan' had been to continue drinking, despite my requests otherwise, I wasn't going anywhere. I was instead going to figure out how to get the support I needed to find peace with my decision to stay. The ultimatum was simply that I needed to know what his plan was, not that he had to stop drinking.
It's messy, and I'm guess that it might be messy for a while. So I'm back, if you want to ride this rollercoaster with me.
