A few nights ago, James woke me up at 2 o'clock in the morning to go to the bathroom. Since he had fallen asleep in his clothes and underwear I was very happy he woke me up instead of wetting his bed. After I got him settled back into sleep and tried to get back to sleep myself I started noticing a lot of noise coming from our upstairs neighbors. Now our apartment building is fairly soundproof, we only hear our upstairs neighbors when they are running water or near a vent. I kept hearing the toilet flush and crying. Just when my sleep befuddled mind started to wonder if something was wrong the doorbell rang. Brigham answered. It was one of the girls from upstairs. Her single mom was very sick, can he help? He went upstairs and came back a few minutes later to grab his keys and phone; he needed to take her to the ER. She had a severe case of food poisoning. I asked about her two daughters (the oldest is 13 or 14), were they alright? They were very concerned but they would fine.
After he left I could not go back to sleep. I knew how frightening this had to be for our upstairs neighbor, not only to be severely sick but to home alone with two young daughters and sick wondering who she could go to for help. While Brigham was deployed this was the thought that kept me up at night. What if I got sick or injured or went into labor, who could I call? Many people had told me I could call them if I needed anything but at 2 o'clock in the morning... it is a little bit harder to call someone for help. But the thought that frightened me, no terrified me, almost every night as I lay in bed was "what if something happened to me?" What if I slipped and was knocked unconscious, or had a seizure or was in some way incapacitated and could not call for help? I was not worried how long it would take someone to help me. I worried how long James would cry in the crib before someone came, would it be hours, days? Would the downstairs neighbors hear him and check up on us? Who would help my little boy? How long would he suffer? My one comfort was that Brigham was able to call me every day. I knew that if he could not reach me after 2-3 tries he would start calling people to come check on me (he knew my fears).
Many times during the deployment people said to me, "Oh, it's like you're (playing) at being a single mom." (Yes, someone actually said I was "playing" at being a single mom). I have the greatest respect and admiration for single parents: it is the hardest job imaginable to me but I was not at any time during the deployment a single mom. I prefer "temporarily only parent" for this reason: I was not single. I was and am married. Although my husband was not physically there, I knew of his love and concern for me and our children, he was emotionally, spiritually, mentally there for me. Although there is immense comfort in physical proximity of a spouse (even when he remains asleep despite the crying child laying next to him), there is even greater comfort in a spouse who is deeply concerned about you, and your children, and does all they can to help despite a temporary physical separation. And I knew that it was temporary, I had a general idea of when it would end (the military is not good at giving firm dates). The same is not true for single parents who not only face the challenges of life and parenthood by themselves but also have to suffer the alienation of affectation, commitment, and love from their former spouse and feel a deep sense of betrayal and abandonment. Even in a so-called "amicable" divorce, the estrangement from a person who once they felt such hope for their future life together is heart wrenching. Supportive family and friends can never truly take the place of loving and committed spouse.
These thoughts came to me that night because I know that in a few months I will once again become "temporarily only parent" when Brigham starts his training with Navy. When people ask me how I feel about that I just shrug my shoulders. I'm alright with it. No, I am not looking forward to being home alone with three kids, one a newborn. No, I am not looking forward to the return of the terrifying nightly thoughts of "what if something happens to me" that I know will besiege me. And yes, I know it will be hard. But I also know that my husband will be even worse off because I at least have the comfort of my children while he will be alone. But we both know that it will temporary. We have been through it before.
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