Many people have had only the best intention when they have said “At least the children are so little.”  Assuming that because they are so very young they haven’t had the opportunity to fear divorce.  This isn’t their worst nightmare because to them this is not even an option.  Which to me means it’s something entirely worse.

I cannot shield them from this. I cannot pretend it isn’t happening or even that it is okay and will be for the best.  It’s an awful thing that will change them.  In the absence of abuse, addiction, or mistreatment I do not believe that divorce is a viable option for marriage reform.  Can I look back and see that there were many issues-absolutely.  Can I look forward and see that I will be much happier down the road without him-without a doubt.  But my children will forever be tossed between homes, splitting holidays and weekends.  Will their lives be better for this?  That is a debate I may never reconcile.

When I was pregnant with our first born, I took great care to bring him into a safe world.  I pre-washed his tiny clothes, warmed the wipes, took classes and read every book on parenting.  I had two more children within three years.  My goal as their mother has always been to make sure they feel safe, loved, secure.  I cannot articulate the all consuming dread, anxiety and remorse in knowing that telling them about this divorce will be like uprooting this carefully laid foundation.  As if everything I have done from day one has been wrong.  Like I stayed up studying for a test only to realize I read the wrong book.  How could it come to this?  How had I missed the signs that he was this miserable when we were fine.  How is the price to pay for our petty lack of communication worthy of the life long cost of a world, in the eyes of my children, divided?

That being said I have never been more grateful that my kids have had a deliberately warm and safe foundation thus far.   This marriage may have been littered with mistakes, but just maybe some things that I have done by my children have been right.  Maybe learning early on that the solution can feel worse than the problem will be a valuable life lesson.

As their mother I hope this is the worst thing that happens to them, but chances are it won’t be.  They will grow to have their own heartbreaks and losses.  Horrible things may happen to them along their life path and just maybe this will strengthen them, even if it bruises their childhood.  Growing up in a house full of manufactured love and strained marital tolerance will be far worse for their long term development as people.

But the words that will have to come out of my mouth, their faces, questions or worse-silence.  How does this go?  What do I say?  Everything I say and do is to protect them, and now I have to hurt them in this way, because he stopped loving me.  It all seems so senseless, especially because we had no therapy.  This may be salvageable, but we won’t know because he won’t try. 

I was a wife, I am a good mom and am now Suddenly Single in Suburbia wanting to know if the world beneath our feet will still be there once this meter is launched.  I can hardly look at them and yet I can’t look away.