Sometimes, life changes in a moment. Healing takes time. In Surviving the Complexities of My Marriage, Amelia Stewart shares a deeply personal story of heartbreak, motherhood, starting over, and finding strength in the love of family. A powerful reminder that even in our hardest moments, healing can begin with the people who hold us up when we can’t stand on our own. — By the Editor
“Surviving the Complexities of My Marriage”
The year I had my rainbow baby, my second beautiful child, my life would do a complete 360.
I thought I had it all. A loving marriage, a beautiful little girl, a son on the way after a miscarriage and the joint decision between myself and the father of my children to move to another country so he could advance his career.
It was a difficult decision, but we felt timing-wise that going to live for 3-5 years in another country would be a great adventure for our growing family. The intention was that within 3-5 years we would move back to home to be close to family and friends.
In May 2014, our beautiful son was born.
Within a week of his birth, his father had travelled to our new temporary home country to meet with his new employer and find a place for us to live. During his absence, my family, most especially my mom, was there to support me in caring for my baby, my toddler and preparing our home for sale.
Within two short months, our home was sold, I had organized the packing and moving of our belongings and ensured our babes were up to date on all of their medical appointments before our departure.
Saying goodbye to my beautiful home was difficult, and saying goodbye to my family and friends was heart wrenching but I believed it was a great chance for our family to explore and grow and have stories of travel to tell when we returned to home in our planned 3-5 years.
The move happened just after our son’s 2-month birthday. My gracious mom flew down to our new temporary home with us. Again, being my saving grace. Upon our arrival, the father of my children was working and had no time off to assist with unpacking and organizing our new home. My mom, stayed for three weeks to assist me with this. During this time, I set up doctor appointments for the children so that they were all up to date with check-ups and vaccines.
Our house was a rental, but I worked hard to make it a place that felt like a home. Our daughter had attended preschool part time prior to our move, so we felt it was a good idea to continue this. I visited several local preschools and decided on one that was close to our home, and it just felt right. I was unable to work in the new country, as a part of the father of my children’s work visa. I took the opportunity to reach out to a local mom group to meet with other mom’s and children close by to develop a network.
My mom’s stay felt short, when she left to head home, I realized how isolated I was. In days to come, the father of my children would be asked to go overseas for work. At the time, I was told it was for a maximum two-week duration. It was only after he was gone, that I was advised by him, the duration had been extended.
His parents came to stay with me and the children—thinking that he would be home soon.
When his stay was extended again, they stayed longer. I was thankful for their support but still felt alone. Eventually after almost 4 weeks away, his parents went back home as he would not provide a timeline for when he would return…
His text messages and emails with me grew shorter. His mention of feelings disappeared. My emotions and expressions of love and missing him, went unanswered. I chalked it up to him being busy at the time as well as the time difference. This was the first time, in our relationship, I felt my love was not reciprocated.
October 14, 2014, was the day that changed my everything.
The father of my children was finally coming home after being gone over 6 weeks. His arrival was late evening. Our beautiful baby boy was already in bed, but I kept our sweet daughter up so she could say goodnight to her father. I waited anxiously on the main floor and poured us each a glass of wine to celebrate his return. I thought this would be the reunion we needed—and that I longed for.
When he returned from saying goodnight to our daughter, he was out of character. Again, I chalked his behaviour up to his overseas travel and jet lag. I handed him his wine glass and instead of speaking to me about how much he missed us, he handed me his laptop and told me to read something he had typed up. Confused, I took the laptop and read what was on the screen.
Before I could read the entire document, my stomach sank, and my legs buckled.
He wanted a divorce.
He expected me to move back home and that my mom and my best friend, would help me organize this. He expected that the children would come back with me. Crumpled on the floor, I sobbed in disbelief. I begged for answers, for an understanding, for up to that point, I thought we were happy. I moved to another country for our family, for him, to grow together. I left my entire support network. I had never felt so alone and lost in my entire life.
I remember vaguely calling my mom that night in tears. Telling her that he was leaving again on Wednesday and that he expected us to appear as a proper family until his departure. My mom was at a loss.
The next morning, after getting no sleep, with swollen eyes, I put on a smile for my babies. The next few days were torture, but I persevered for my babies. He left on the Wednesday and expected that I would be gone before he returned. My mom, my rock, arrived later that day. She helped me pull it together and pack up and prep for our return home.
Less than a week later, we were back. My mom flew home with us. We were greeted at the airport by my dad, my brother and sister-in-law and my nephews. My family, my heart. I sobbed when I saw them, out of happiness for their love.
My babies and I moved into my parent’s basement, where I healed and watched my sweet children grow. My parents unwavering love and care helped me in so many ways.
I had the opportunity to set aside my feelings of loss and confusion and was able to focus on what truly mattered, my two beautiful babies. I focused on their firsts, their smiles and holding them and feeling their unconditional love for me, their momma. Each day, it got a little easier.
It took time, but time heals if you let it. There is nothing like the love of your parents, and there is nothing in this world as genuine as the love and a hug from your children. These moments and these memories saved me. Each day since, I cherish every moment with them.
About the Author
Amelia is a mom, divorce survivor, happily remarried with a beautiful, blended family. A food lover who dreams of her next meal. Learning to understand the complexities of adulthood, one day at a time.
