Posted on | October 30, 2015 | No Comments

It’s almost Halloween, so it sort of feels appropriate that I’m spending the majority of my days scared out of my mind.

Of course, it’s not the witches and werewolves and vampires that are haunting my sleep… it’s the everyday reality of blending a family. I feel absolutely petrified, frozen in place, unable to even turn my head without the fear that something is going to creep around the corner and remind me that none of this easy. At all.

Banks moves in to the house where J and I live in only two weeks.

Banks officially becomes part of the family that J and I have created in only three weeks.

And I am one shaky breath away from a full and total collapse over all the potential pit falls and worrisome “what ifs” that come along with taking this step back into marriage.

Do I love him?


Does he love me?


Is that enough to make all this work?

Who. The. Hell. Knows.

Because everything is frightening now. Everything is real and scary and rubbing raw the old but still so new skin that has grown in to cover my scars.

Will he love my son the way a father should?

Will he love a second child more?

Will J always feel like he’s an outsider to a family of three when there’s a new child in the picture? Will he feel unloved? Will he worry that he’s not enough for me? Will Banks do everything in his power to make J feel like he’s HIS child just as much as any natural born son or daughter?

I don’t know.

I hope so.

I think so.

But I don’t know.

And the worries and doubts and fears swirl around my head until I’m dizzy and nauseated with the overwhelming urge to run to somewhere where I can know that my child is safe and loved and protected.

But then I remember that this is life.

This messy, dirty, crazy, stupid, wonderful, uncertain path? This is my path. And Banks and I will do whatever we can to make this work.

Would it be easier to say “No?” To turn and run and continue to stitch closed the cocoon of love I have built around my child and I?


Would it be easier to walk away and try for the rest of my life to keep my son sheltered and away from the harsh realities of the world?


But would I be happy that way?

Long down the road, when J has packed away the small clothes and his room no longer boasts ninja turtles and picture books… who will I be then? Who will he be then? And will both or either of us be better or worse people because of having Banks in our lives until then?

I think the answer is better.

I think having Banks makes us better. He makes us stronger. He makes us trust and love and embrace what is outside this soft blanket of a life we’ve knit for ourselves.

And so I bat the fear away again, reminding myself that I can do this. That I will do this. That sometimes the best experiences in life are the ones that scare you the most.


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    Spilled Milk (and Other Atrocities) by Law Momma is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
    Based on a work at http://www.law-momma.com.
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