By: Natasha Higgins
Okay. Do you remember when I said that I wanted to use this blog to share my journey? The good, the bad, and all of that in between? Well this is one of those times. It’s a moment of transparency and vulnerability. And who actually likes being in that place? Yea, that place. That’s what I thought. No one. And yet here I am…
Exhales. My son met his father two weekends ago. (And no that’s not the man in the picture. That’s my husband. The one who has been around for it all.) Soak that in. Met. His. Father. Even as I type this, I’m not exactly sure what to write after saying that. So I guess I’ll just start at the beginning.
I had my eldest son at eighteen. Long story short, his dad and I broke up and things pertaining to Q got complicated. It was if my life suddenly became a statistic out of the child development books I was reading for school. The only difference? My son was the biggest motivator for me that could have been. I felt that I had something to prove. And not just to him, but to myself and everyone around me. I couldn’t possibly become a statistical failure. And if you know me, you know that I am, and have always been, a go getter. I’ve never needed the push to do well or to chase success. And so, in having my son, it only made me want to go harder. Of course there were bumps in the road. Of course I made some faulty decisions, I was 18.
Fast forward to a couple of weeks before my son’s third birthday. Things between my child’s father and I had become a very heated situation. Hurtful words were exchanged during every interaction. Situations were tense. At the time, Mr.D (what I’m calling his dad for the moment) was not very present in Q’s life. I can still remember my baby walking around the house whimpering, “I lost my daddy.” “I can’t find my daddy.” That always killed me. Still, I would protect Mr.D. “He’s at work,” or “he’s at school” were always my go to answers. Mr. d had stopped coming around. He had stopped calling. He stopped.
But my life continued. I continued to be a mom to my son. I continued to be a mom to my son even though every step of the way Mr.D fought me. Even though every step of the way he disrespected me, I continued. Even though, he would physically disappear over and over and over again, I continued. And that is how things remained. He stayed a disappearing act. I moved (with my now husband) and some years went by. Then some more years went by. And more years went by. Mr.D stayed away.
After a total of almost seven years Mr.D and Q met. It was planned. I was at my school setting up my classroom and my husband called me to tell me it was time. I rushed home, threw on a different shirt and we loaded in the car. My sister was with me at the time, so she stayed with my other sons.
Chris, Q, and I drove to our town’s outlet mall. On the way there I tried to feel Q’s vibe. I asked him how he was feeling. I let him know that it was okay to feel however he wanted to feel. I let him know that everything was going to be cool. And even though I was talking to Q, I was talking to myself too. I had not seen this man in forever. I don’t know him. He doesn’t know us. There was never any “closure”. Things weren’t settled fully. Things weren’t settled fully in my mind. All of the memories I had of him were negative. But I knew i had to keep it together for my baby.
We parked and started to walk inside. And there he was…with his woman…and four of his kids. Keep it together Tae. Just act normal. Say hi. He walks up to us. Chris greets him first with a sturdy dap up. He looks at Q. He smiles. “Can I get a hug man?” “No don’t hug him! You haven’t earned a hug!” That’s what I wanted to say. But I didn’t. Q awkwardly approaches him and gives him a side church hug. He looks at me. “Hey Tae.” He comes in for a hug. “Don't hug me either!” But I follow suit and give him the same side church hug. “Hey,” his girl says from behind. I smile. As if seeing him again wasn’t weird enough, now I have to make nice with his family.
At this point, I could feel my heart dramatically pumping in my chest. This can’t be okay. My heart is pumping too damn fast. I'm about to pass out!” “Where do you want to go Q?” Q looks at everyone and shyly tells us his answer. We ended up going to three stores. Q wanted some “swag” clothes and shoes (of course). The whole time, I’m literally having two conversations in my head: what I actually say, and what I wanted to say. It was exhausting. It must have showed on my face, because on more than one occasion, my husband grabs me and hold me close. I thought I was doing good. I was “making nice.” I was talking. I was cordial. But then again, he knows me. He knew I wasn’t okay. But how selfish would I be to attend to my feelings? I couldn’t even remotely make this about me. It was the FIRST time my son was meeting HIS father! Keep it together Tae.
At one point, we all even went to the food court to get some grub. At another point, I somehow ended up being at the table right in front of him. Our kids and his woman weren’t at the table. All that was there was me, him, and Chris. We sat in silence. Speak stupid! “So what are you doing in North Dakota?” There you go. Nice and simple.
He proceeds to tell me he’s an electrician. Kinda cool. “How long have you been there?”
“A year.”
Hmmm. Odd. “Oh so not too long. Where were you before that?”
“Austin.”
I stop chewing. “Austin? Austin, Austin?” He nods. “Did you know we were in Austin?” He nods again. I could’ve jumped across the table. You were here all this time?! Why didn’t you call? Why not say something? I look at his daughter and smile as she was clenching french fries. Kids make me happy. So I found my happy place in her. Once everyone came back to the table, we finished our food and left. We did some more shopping. Mr. D bought Q some more shoes (and I bought the same pair for Ja’ron). I watched as Mr.D kept watch over his kids and his lady. His family. The kids that call him DAD.
As the store closed, we all walked to the wishing well by the front entrance and just sat. We watched the kids play. I watched as Q ran around played with his brothers and sisters. He’s playing with his brothers and sisters. On one hand, watching Q play made me happy. I felt just as happy as any other time I catch my kids in a moment of happiness. On the other hand, the feeling was different. I still can’t put the feeling with the right words. None will do it justice. Yet still, I played nice. I made small talk with his lady. She was actually quite nice. I give Chris the it’s time to go look and we commence to saying our goodbyes. Mr.D hugged Q and I again, and dapped up Chris. And we left. Actually, as soon as we left through the entrance, we all hit a mean sprint to the car. All was normal again.
Even now I think about that day. I think about how far I’ve come. There was a time when the mere sight of Mr.D gave me a migraine. His presence instantly angered me. But that day, I did good. I’m proud of me. Chris told me how proud of me he was as well. I remember the drive home and how I blatantly recall being able to seemingly breathe again. It was like I had been holding my breath the entire time.I don’t know what’s going to come out of this meet and greet. I don’t know if anything will actually “happen”. I don’t know a lot. And truth be told I don’t want to think about it. Maybe on a different day, but not today. All I can say is, my kid met his father two weekends ago.
I’ll also say that I shared this story for anyone who may be going through a similar situation. I want to say it’s okay to feel whatever you need to feel. It’s okay to get yourself through it however you need to. I don’t feel guilty. I did nothing wrong. I’m human. I felt. But no matter how I felt, I made sure my son was okay, and that he had space and security to feel however he wanted. Because that’s what it’s all about. Or rather, that’s whom it’s all about. And I will always ride for him.
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