A powerful night in a powerless city

They never warned me that having kids would make me hate my husband. I never thought it could happen. I adored him. I felt like he was the perfect one for me and we were so happy. After the two indescribably bad marriages I had before him, our marriage was a breath of fresh air.

Then came our firstborn, a son. Klay is a joy; compassionate, caring, and gentle like a butterfly. He always has a smile on his face and works to make everyone around him smile. Despite the constant attention that a newborn needs, my husband and I remained close. In fact, I would say we grew closer, going through the challenges of bringing a small human into the world. When he was two, we decided we wanted one more and roughly a year later, our daughter was born.

When I was pregnant with Marilyn, I felt things starting to change between us. I can’t even tell you what it was. It was just…like a distance…a terrible, lonely, aching feeling of disconnection.

She is now three and has the energy of a thousand suns. She is passionate and animated, emotional and needy, but in the very best ways that make you excited to see the grown human she will become. Marilyn and her brother are the best of friends and staying home during COVID quarantine has only made their love and connection grow.

In so many ways, I should be grateful for the life and family I have, but I can’t seem to find that joy. I mean, of course, I love my children and they are my world, but there is something that has been missing since my husband and I began drifting apart.

I have tried in so many ways to reconnect with him; through dates, sharing about our lives, sex. But it’s like something is broken. We still parent together and live life together, but there is no passion, no love, no intimacy.

We still have the same stale, distant sex that we’ve been having for over three years now. With the predictability of the rising sun, every other Saturday morning he wakes me up about 7 am, the normal time his alarm wakes him up during the week, and gestures at my body. I nod and he uses me until he has achieved his goal. He then rolls over and goes back to sleep without so much as offering to take care of my needs. I imagine he thinks I have no needs, but maybe that’s because we never talk about anything uncomfortable. I often feel like he doesn’t even know me anymore. Those mornings are the worst. I dread them. I mean I guess it’s encouraging that he still wants sex with me, I suppose it means he’s probably not cheating on me. But in the end, I always feel so desperately alone and so much more disconnected than before he touched me.

Sometimes I think about asking for a divorce, but then I think…what’s the point? Maybe this is just how relationships are. Maybe it’s because the kids are ALWAYS there, especially now. We used to have a nanny come when needed, but now that Tim lost his job, he’s taking care of the kids while I work from home full-time. Not to mention there is nowhere for us to go since most everything is closed anyway. In the end, we are always together without really being present.

I think that’s why this year has been especially hard and has felt so hopeless. It’s been a year of international and personal unrest and chaos on so many different levels.

That’s why last night and this morning were exactly what I needed. Oddly enough, it all started with a power outage in our house. The four of us were watching a movie together when the TV suddenly turned off in unison with our lights. With the August twilight, there was just enough light to see around the room to walk towards the flashlights we always keep ready for windy Washington nights like these.

The kids were giggling and running around. I was so frustrated, and I yelled at them, “Stop! Just sit down until we figure this out.”

They meekly returned to their seats on the couch, but only a few moments passed before they resumed their playful giggling and whispers from their seated position.

“Deb, I am looking on my phone and it says that power is out in the entire city. It’s probably going to be a while. You know, why don’t we set up the tent in the back yard and all camp out there together?”

Quite frankly, I was surprised by Tim’s thought. Normally he only wants to be on his phone. His active engagement caught me off guard, but I wanted it to last, so I did my best to move from surprise and frustration with the power outage to encouragement. “I like the idea, but what about the storm?”

“It says the worst is gone for the night and if it does get bad, we can always come inside.”

I was puzzled by his change of behavior, but I agreed with a nod.

“Great. I’ll go set it up.” He walked out of the room toward the garage to grab our two-room tent.

I spent the next twenty minutes getting the kiddos in their pajamas and ready to go out to sleep in the tent. By the time we went out to our backyard where the tent was waiting, they were squealing with delight. As we entered the tent and got the bedding set up, Tim and I realized it was past their bedtime and we tucked them into their sleeping bags in their room and half-way zipped up the nylon wall between the rooms.

Tim and I talked about the power outage and made a plan for the refrigerated and frozen foods while the kids drifted into a deep sleep.

“Are you ready to go to sleep?” I asked him.

“Sure.” He answered. We got into our individual sleeping bags and I went to go turn off the lamp that we had brought out with us. He gently grabbed my hand to stop me.

“Yeah?” I asked, not understanding what he was doing.

“Can we leave the light on a bit longer?” He asked tentatively.

“Ok – if you turn it off when you’re done.”

He nodded. I had laid down to prepare to fall asleep when I heard sniffling. I opened my eyes and saw Tim tearing up. I hadn’t seen him cry since Marilyn’s birth, so I was shocked to see it now. I closed my eyes and pretended I hadn’t seen him. I was tired and honestly I didn’t care.

“Deb?”

I sighed. “Yes?”

“I miss you.” He paused, awkwardly. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we haven’t been right since you were pregnant with Marilyn.”

I decided I needed to engage. He never wanted to have these kinds of conversations. My eyelids fluttered open and I gazed at him. He had tears streaming down his face.

“I have noticed. I’ve been trying to reconnect with you. Have you noticed that?” I asked with a hint of frustration.

“I guess.”

“What’s been going on with you?”

“I don’t really know. I guess I felt discouraged that we were having another baby and worried that you wouldn’t have time for me. And then when you were pregnant, you were always tired –"

“Well, I was working full-time, taking care of Klay and pregnant. What did you expect?”

He sighed, clearly frustrated and likely feeling slighted from my harsh response.

I apologized. “I’m sorry. I was just so exhausted during that time.”

“I know. You had a lot on your plate. I’ve just been so lonely. It felt like you had no time for me anymore.”

“So why didn’t you tell me you felt that way?” I asked, trying to soften my voice to encourage him to continue sharing.

“Well, that’s a hard conversation to have. Especially when you are so busy. I didn’t want to create more work for you. I just found other ways to cope. Like, I started getting attention from Amber a few months ago – you know, the girl from my old job that I talk about a lot?”

I was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I think, no, I know she has a thing for me.”

“But you are married…! You told me you didn’t like her.”

“I know. I didn’t at first, but the more attention she gave me, the more I liked her. I never touched her, but I really enjoyed the attention. It’s never been a sexual thing, but still, I should have come to you. I should have shared with you that I was lonely, but it was so much easier to just use her attention to fill my needs.”

“So, what happened?”

“Well, we’ve still been texting a lot, especially now that I’m not at work anymore. Today she sent me a nude photo and it all kind of hit me.”

I turned away from him.

“Please don’t turn away, Deb. I love you. I want you. I miss you more than I can tell you.” His voice cracked.

I rolled back towards him.

“So, what? She wasn’t as hot as me?”

“No –“

“Oh, she was hotter than me?” I cut him off.

“No, listen Deb, no one can compare to you, on any level. You are gorgeous, funny, smart, an incredible mother, and so much more. It was like when she sent me that photo, it was a slap in the face. It made me realize that I haven’t been fully invested in our relationship. It wasn’t even like I had to choose between you and her. I knew it was you all along, but I was using her to give me the attention I was seeking, instead of having a hard conversation with you.”

“So, are you still talking with her?” I asked tentatively.

“No. Absolutely not. I told her that I couldn’t cheat on you and that I loved you and we needed to be done communicating. I deleted her messages and blocked her.” He took a deep breath and looked in my eyes. “I need you Deb. I need to connect with you like we used to. I can’t live this way for the rest of our lives.”

I was so angry and hurt. I was in shock that he would seek out attention from someone else and I was hopeful. Hopeful for the first time in months.

“Deb, do you remember our first camping trip we took together after we were married?”

Between my anger and pain, a giggle slipped out along with a half-sob. “Where we said one day, we’d use the other bedroom in our tent for our future kids?”

Tim didn’t even try to hold back his tears. “Yeah. I remember being so in love with you and so elated that you had married me. I couldn’t wait to make a baby with you. I couldn’t wait to take our kids camping. Oh, Deb.” The soft guttural cry of my name makes me start crying harder, all the while trying to stay quiet so as not to wake the little ones.

“I know, babe. I know. I’ve missed you too.” I shimmied out of my sleeping bag and found my way into his. Even though it’s a little tight, it’s exactly what we both needed.

He pulled me close and kissed my forehead. “God, I love you, Deb. I love you so much.”

Last night was the first time I’ve felt hope for my marriage in a year or more. This morning, the kids woke up before us and came running out of their section giggling and woke us up by jumping on us and screaming.

Ecstasy filled me. I was surrounded by those I love. I didn’t think it was possible, that in the midst of all of this chaos, uncertainty and struggle I could find so much joy in the rekindling of the love for my husband that I thought had been long lost. I started this by sharing that I hate my husband, but I learned last night that hate and unfulfilled longing for love and connection can feel very similar.