By Melissa Davis
“I was in my closet (my go to place when things get hard for me), curled up in a ball, sobbing. Not just sobbing, it was this sound I didn’t know I could even make. I was wailing. I lost all control of my thoughts, emotions, and my physical body. One word raced through my mind, tormenting me, ‘why?’
I had a good life. I just gave birth to my second daughter and my oldest just turned three. I loved being their Mama! I was the kind of woman that gave everything for her family and put myself in last place or just completely ignored my own needs. Cook three meals a day, clean, walk the dog, set up playdates, teach ABCs, encourage my husband, listen to Kidz Bop and enjoy it more than the kids, full time mom and wife. I loved it, my whole day was purposeful! I really loved this precious time with my girls.
I played one year of soccer in the eighth grade so of course I felt fully capable to coaching my three-year-old’s soccer team, aka little kids in uniform chasing a ball around in one giant swarm… Truth is I had no idea what I was doing and everyone knew it! It was raining, I was driving down the narrow downtown streets to my daughter’s soccer game. She pouted in the back because her jersey was blue and she liked pink. My newborn slept quietly. My husband was out of town working, he did that the majority of the year. On our way there I got a call from my best friend’s husband. This was odd, he never called me.
He apologized for being the one to tell me and it was clear he didn’t really know how to say it, he said, ‘if it were me I would want to know.’ I was completely confused. He got to the point. He shared how he happened to check something on his wife’s phone and saw text messages between her and my husband. My hands and feet got hot and sweaty. He described what he saw with just enough detail for me to get the point. My stomach seemed to fall out from under me. I hung up and I quietly cried, just a little, behind my sunglasses. I was in shock, I felt like I was in a fishbowl looking out at the world. I could see things but they were blurry, I could hear, but it was unclear, muffled.
Thank God my step-mom came to the game that day. I gave my baby to her and stood on the field in the rain, willing myself not to throw up. I have no clue what happened at the game, I just stood there as a hoard of three-year-olds chased a ball around me.
