I've been on DKos for over three years. Most longer-term Kossacks know that I'm one of a small but growing segment of American society: I'm a non-custodial mom.
Today, I had to put my kid on a plane back to Dad. I hadn't seen kidlet in over four months, and now I won't see kidlet again until spring break.
My marriage and subsequent divorce were torture. It wasn't until this last spring, nearly five years after my divorce was final, that I realized that I am suffering from PTSD as a result of the whole mess. I bought kidlet a cell phone during summer visit and told the ex not to contact me via phone anymore except in cases of emergency. It doesn't stop him from trying, unfortunately, but at least I have a direct means of contacting the kid without growing through the ex.
So we had a phenomenal week together. We saw "The Golden Compass" and didn't see "The Water Horse" (I explained to kidlet why I don't watch Walden Media movies, or shop at WalMart, and so on). We did a boat tour. We made mondo cinnamon rolls together.
Last night, kidlet got up after bedtime and crawled in my lap, bawling about not wanting to go back to Dad. After twenty minutes of comfort, bedtime finally ensued. But not before I was made to promise not to cry myself until after the flight left today.
Didn't work.
Kidlet got on the plane happily enough, but then called me on the cell while I watched from the window at the gate, bawling again about not wanting to go back. I was strong. As a Wiccan, I believe in the power of prayer and spellcraft, and so I called upon the powers I believe in to serve as guardians to kidlet via a much beloved toy. I infused the power of Diana, a Goddess, in the toy, and told kidlet to hold the toy and cry during times of fear, anger, and sadness, knowing that my spirit would help to guide. When the call came from the plane, I told kidlet to hold the toy (which was in a carry-on) and know that I was there. I couldn't go onto the plane...the door was closed and the jetway was already being retracted.
And then I cried. I cried like the coldest winter wind howls over a barren landscape. My chest hurt, and I was oblivious to crowds of travelers around me as I watched the plane lift off, wailing in agony.
This happened because I worked full time while kidlet's Dad stayed home, ostensibly to take care of him. It happened because my state's courts try to be gender neutral. And it happened because I couldn't take the abuse anymore.
It happened because the laws that govern divorce in this country are total fucking bullshit.
I'm ok now, but still very deeply shaken. I go through this five, six times a year. It's worse sometimes than others, and today was one of the worst.
My husband and I are unemployed at the moment, although we're ok financially. My developmentally delayed brother, who lives with us, has a broken collar bone and won't be able to work for at least another month. I have a fucking hell of a lot of shit going on.
And tonight, on the way home from the airport, there was a panhandler at the foot of the freeway offramp. He looked so bereft, and yet when I mouthed "I'm sorry" to him, I was the one who cried.
He flashed me a peace sign as I cried my way through the intersection.
Family laws need to be revised. How? I don't have a clue. But when a child has to live nearly halfway across the country because of "primary caregiver" status, it's royally fucked.
Now before you jump to any conclusions, let me set out a few disclaimers:
- I don't need legal advice. I actually have been working with a "father's rights" attorney (which is weird, I must say). At the moment, there isn't much hope for changing status quo, no matter how much money I throw at it.
- I didn't willingly cede custody. No, I fought for a year and spent what was, at the time, over half a year's salary. I'm not a deadbeat, a junkie, an alcoholic, abusive, etc. I have over fifteen years' experience in my field of work, am happily remarried, and the caregiver of a developmentally delayed adult family member.
- I'm not opposed to anyone's rights...father's, mother's, or otherwise. I just think the family laws in the many states, for lack of a better way of putting it, SUCK.
And that's all I have to say about that.