I think if I recall correctly, that first year of baby G’s life was one of the most tumultuous ones in Daniel and I’s marriage. He was not ready to settle down and commit to being a dad and a husband. He still wanted to party party party.

I was really surprised by it. Surprised each time he let me down and broke my heart. Choosing to go out on Saturday night with his friends instead of watching a movie with baby G and I. Spending most of Sunday lazing around hungover, instead of spending time together as a family.

Each heartbreak was small, it was a mere chipping away at what was there. Each time, a disappointment. I wasn’t opposed to him spending time with friends or going out. Not at all. But he did it in excess and every time he drank, he drank excessively.

It was the first taste of him choosing alcohol over his family and little did I know it would continue over and over and over.

I was trying hard to not let it bother me, hoping that with enough fights over it, enough silent treatment, he would begin to understand and give up the drinking. Nothing really seemed to change though. By outward appearances I’m sure things looked great. I certainly didn’t confide in anyone about what was really going on within the four walls of our home.

Some might ask why baby number two then? Why bring a second child into an already somewhat rocky relationship? I don’t know, it’s a great question. But it’s kind of like trying to back out of something you’re already so far into that it seems the only possibility is to keep trudging along. Keep going. Moving forward. Surely something will give and the problems will dissipate. It can’t stay like this forever. Or can it?