Rounding Home: A Memoir of Love, Betrayal, Heartbreak, and Hope with an Intimate Look into Raising a Child with Severe Autism

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Rounding Home: A Memoir of Love, Betrayal, Heartbreak, and Hope with an Intimate Look into Raising a Child with Severe Autism Page 14

by Sarah Swindell


  Both of us were bawling as we drove up to the hotel, and it only got worse when we got back to the room we were sharing for the night. We went to bed still mad at each other, and with nothing solved after a long and tearful night of going back and forth.

  Way down deep, I knew she was right, and that was the reason I was so defensive. Those were the same strange, nagging feelings I had been having for weeks. So many lives were about to be affected, and the responsibility of it all completely overwhelmed me. We woke up the next day after only a few hours of sleep, both with dark, puffy eyes that no amount of makeup was going to hide. Hayley was right, but it was too late to turn back now. The makeup and hair girls were knocking on the hotel room door.

  CHAPTER 19

  SHANE AND I LASTED LESS than a year before divorcing. It was late 2010, and I felt humiliated, embarrassed and upset with myself for putting all the children through so much uncertainty and turmoil. I was constantly filled with confusing thoughts. When I told Greg during a phone conversation that I was unhappy with how things were going with Shane, and that I thought I’d made a huge mistake, I was completely taken aback when he told me he wasn’t happy with his current girlfriend, Elaine, either.

  Elaine was almost my twin. She looked so much like me that for months people thought Greg and I had gotten back together, thinking they were seeing us around town. She was shorter and had more of an athletic build than I, but we could easily pass for the same person.

  The first time I met her, she and Greg were coming to pick up Dawson. She was a bit cold and didn’t say much as she stood in the doorway of the home Greg and I had once shared together. I immediately noticed her Daisy Duke cut-off shorts, high-heeled wedges, and the muscular legs I always wished I had. My legs were long but definitely lacked in the muscle department. Yes, I was absolutely jealous.

  The text I got from Greg the day before my wedding had really messed with my emotions and was in the back of my mind throughout much of my marriage to Shane; not where it should have been. I knew I should not be feeling the way I was feeling, and the guilt was tearing me up inside. Shane and his children deserved better than what I was giving. The day Greg told me he was not happy with Elaine was the day I knew I could not go on in my marriage. I was living a lie that I just could not cover up anymore.

  I felt a sudden surge of happiness that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for Greg and me after all. Did the conversation we had contribute to me wanting to leave Shane? It most certainly didn’t help. Not only was I unhappy in my marriage, Greg was unhappy in his relationship as well. This made the choice to get out of my marriage clear; this was the nudge I needed.

  This would be our first attempt at possibly getting back together. I didn’t have a doubt in my mind at that time that we could and would make it work again, despite all the trauma that went down almost two years earlier. I missed Greg so much it was painful to even let myself feel it. I could not believe we were getting another chance to make it right again.

  To compare the person I am in now in 2019 to the person I was in 2010, is to say that I am not even close to being the same woman. I remember thinking Greg and I were completely ready to put the past behind us and start fresh, as if nothing had ever happened, but nothing could have been farther from reality. I still had constant thoughts about Amanda, and the visions still raced in my head every time I closed my eyes.

  I know I would have seriously benefited from talking to a therapist; but for some reason, I always thought I could handle it on my own, and it would eventually get better. All I wanted was to have my life back the way it was, and I vowed to never take my marriage to Greg for granted again. I was sure he would continue to apologize for what he had done until I felt safe again, and with a little more time, I would be able to completely trust him. Yes, I realize now how absolutely insane it was that I was willing to get back together with someone I still didn’t trust, but that is what I thought. I wanted my family back more than anything in the world.

  I remember it was right around Christmas when Greg and I decided to move forward with our plan. I told Hayley about it but didn’t want to tell Brenna and Sophia just yet. Something told me to wait; I just wanted to protect them. I could tell that Hayley was a little apprehensive about the whole idea, and she warned me it was too soon for me to make any big decisions. As usual, though, I didn’t want to hear anything that didn’t correspond with what I wanted, and I wanted Greg more than anything else in the world. A very selfish way of thinking, especially being a mom.

  Greg decided to write Elaine a letter and leave it on their kitchen counter before he left for a business trip to Arizona. (Letters are always a great way to break up with someone that you have been dating for a year and who had just moved into your place.) Since I was already in Arizona attending a funeral, it seemed like the perfect place to leave the past behind us and begin our new love story with a couple of days together in another state.

  In a nutshell, Greg’s letter explained to her that he was going back to his family and that he was very sorry. Obviously, that wasn’t going to go over very well with Elaine and understandably so; but sadly, I didn’t care. Greg had been mine for seventeen years, and she had only had him for one. In my head, the simple math made it all okay. I know it sounds completely heartless, and that’s because it was.

  I knew something was wrong when Greg arrived in Arizona and he didn’t text or call me, nor did he respond to any of my attempts to reach him. My gut was twisted with anxiety. I was all too familiar with this feeling, and I knew deep inside it was not going to end well; at least for me it wouldn’t.

  I had imagined a beautiful, heartfelt night together in a hotel, spending the night wrapped in each other’s arms, never wanting to let go. He would tell me over and over again how sorry he was for ever hurting me and how it was the biggest mistake of his life. We would make love and all would be forgiven and forgotten. We would get back home, sit the whole family down and surprise them with the news that Mom and Dad are getting back together and how sorry we were for the last two years of madness.

  Unfortunately, my little fantasy didn’t play out; not even close. I never heard from or saw Greg the entire time I was in Arizona, other than one short text saying he had made it there, but was busy. I was a mess the whole plane ride back to Austin. I cried on and off and tried to calm my nerves with wine, which seemed to only make the tears fall even more. I refused to allow myself to think he might be having second thoughts and continued to make up various reasons for his radio silence all the way home.

  Once Greg was back in Austin, I could tell he was avoiding me as much as possible and making excuses for not seeing me in Arizona, but I tried to shove all the fear aside. It was Christmas Eve, and Greg was still planning on spending it with us, since apparently Elaine was gone. I spent all day getting the house perfect and prepared all his favorite foods just like in the past. I wanted the evening to remind him of how wonderful life used to be as a family. Even Dawson was in an exceptionally good mood that day.

  I knew instinctively the moment he came in that something was very off and it was not going to go as planned. He was very quiet and seemed uncomfortable, which made us all feel the same. His face was pale, and he was not interested in any of the food I had made. He was not even interested in conversation with the girls.

  Nothing about it felt good or natural, and it definitely didn’t feel like Christmas Eve. I made the mistake of breaking out old family videos to lighten the mood, and while the kids enjoyed them, I could see in Greg’s eyes he did not. I sat there watching as tears stung my eyes. I had cried so much by this point it almost felt natural when my eyes welled up once again. I ached for my old life playing on the TV screen and realized that my hope of that ever happening again might not happen after all. It scared me to death.

  When the kids went to bed, Greg and I sat alone in the family room and had small talk. We talked about what was going on with the girls and how Dawson’s therapies were going. I shared wit
h him how rough the night before was and how I wished I could figure out what kept Dawson up all night. I was tired, but I didn’t want Greg to leave.

  “Would you like to stay and help me stuff stockings?” It sounded more like a desperate plea than a simple question.

  He nervously said, “I better get going, but thanks.”

  I suddenly had that familiar sense that he was hiding something, and I felt nauseous. I could see on his face that he was changing his mind about all of it, but I was terrified to admit it to myself. He gave me a long hug goodbye, a hug that felt like it might be our last. There was no passionate kiss or suggestion that he might want to spend the night, as I had hoped.

  As he left the house through the side door, he turned around one more time and waved to me as I stood in the doorway. I could have sworn I saw tears in his eyes just like mine, but his were not for the same reason.

  CHAPTER 20

  IT WAS 4:00 A.M. ON Christmas morning. I could tell by the loud noises coming from Dawson’s room that he was up for the day and not because he was excited to tear open his presents from Santa. He didn’t even know who Santa was. At almost ten years old, he never understood or was interested in anything that had to do with Christmas or any other special occasion. He never wanted to unwrap presents or blow out birthday candles. His only interest was to flap the ribbon used on the gifts or to occasionally smile at the birthday plate that sang the “Happy Birthday” song when you pushed the button. He always woke up at odd hours of the night, but when he woke up this late (early), he was up for the rest of the day with no chance of going back to sleep. Time for a car ride to let the rest of the kids sleep awhile longer.

  I knew I was making a mistake the moment I exited the freeway and turned down the dimly lit street leading to Greg and Elaine’s townhome. I typed in the gate code as Dawson loudly clapped in the back seat, enjoying an especially loud vocal outburst. As the gate swung open, my heart started pounding out of my chest and my mind was going a mile a minute. I felt sudden panic as I got closer to his unit, and then I saw it. Her car was parked in the driveway.

  She was back. Now everything about Christmas Eve made sense. That was why he was so distant with me, why he didn’t kiss me and why he didn’t stay the night. He had gone back to her. He chose her over me. And once again, I felt my heart being ripped from my chest. For the second time he had picked another woman over me. Seeing her car parked in the driveway was almost as painful as reading that text two years ago, but at least I was less surprised, if that was even possible.

  As I drove out of the gated community, I mistakenly allowed my brain to wander and imagine the two of them cuddling in bed or worse, doing other things. I was sure they were relieved to be back in each other’s arms after a short breakup—a very short breakup—and she must have forgiven him for the Dear John letter he left in the kitchen the week before. I wondered if he had begged her to forgive him? Or did she beg for him to come back?

  By the time I made it back to the freeway I was sobbing so hard that I could hardly see the road in front of me. Dawson was quiet, almost watching me with curiosity as to what was wrong with his mother.

  I remember thinking, I bet he wishes he could give me words of comfort or encouragement. I would have given anything to hear him speak and say those words to me. Maybe just the way he had become quiet while I was having my mini breakdown was his way of showing his love; quietly comforting me the only way he could.

  Somehow I pulled myself together enough to give my kids some kind of a normal Christmas morning. I didn’t share that Elaine was back with Dad and that I saw her car there on a Dawson drive earlier that morning, but I am sure they could tell something was wrong. Once again, I felt defeated, and on top of that, I was ashamed that I had allowed myself to go there. I was absolutely at the very lowest point I had ever been in my life. I did not understand just how bad it was until years later, when I allowed myself to reflect on it.

  It was not until I was on another Dawson drive in the middle of the night not long after the holidays in 2011 that I felt the urge to drive through the barrier on a tall overpass not far from my home. Dawson was having major ups and downs, and I could not seem to get his bowel disease under control. I was utterly exhausted from the lack of sleep, along with an overwhelming sense of defeat and sadness that I just could not seem to shake. I had honestly convinced myself that we would both be better off dead. At least Dawson’s pain would stop, and he would not have autism in heaven. My girls would get a stepmother someday, probably Elaine, who would surely be more stable than I was, and they would be just fine. I even had the strange thought that because she looked like me, it would somehow be easier on the kids to adjust.

  The night on the overpass is still very clear in my head, even though I wasn’t thinking clearly at all. Dawson’s yelling from the back seat that night, combined with the overwhelming feeling of despair, almost won the fight going on in my head. But something quieted the storm in that early-morning hour.

  As someone who was never a part of organized religion, I believe it was absolutely a God moment for me. It’s too hard to even think about all of the amazing things I would have missed—especially now that I am a grandmother—what a gift that I would have never experienced. I would have missed out on college graduations, my children’s weddings, and even the simple joy of taking a walk in the sunshine. Someone upstairs had to have seen my future and knew I would be okay. That, and my love for my family kept me on the road and led me safely back home.

  I do believe now that exhaustion played a major role in my mental well-being and contributed to me not thinking clearly. Years and years of hardly ever getting a full night’s sleep finally caught up to me, and my world falling apart certainly did not help. It is why new mommies are always feeling as if they are in a fog from waking up with their new babies. My baby was now ten years old and still not sleeping through the night. That is a very long baby phase!

  I wish everyone going through dark times were allowed just a tiny peek into the future and be able to see all the beautiful things in life that are ahead. I don’t understand why I was so apprehensive about getting professional help or talking about all my feelings. It’s interesting to me how I consider myself a private person when it comes to sharing my feelings, never wanting to tell a stranger who doesn’t even know me, all my problems. Yet, I am eager to write an entire book and share it with the world now!

  If you ever see someone who you think may be in a bad place or going through difficult personal times, reach out to them often. Even several times a day, if needed. Make them feel they are important to you, they are loved, and that they matter to you and to so many others. Reaching out and checking in on someone in need truly could mean the difference between life and death.

  If you are the person who thinks ending your life is the answer, please don’t be embarrassed or afraid to ask for help. I understand how dark life can feel and how incredibly real those feelings are. I was fortunate enough to work through those moments because people reminded me that I am loved in tiny little ways. You, too, are loved more than you will ever know.

  CHAPTER 21

  I CAN NEVER SAY ENOUGH about how my daughters supported me during all the ups and downs, especially when it came to how I was dealing with stress. I thought I was doing the best I could, but I know now that I absolutely could have done better.

  As I mentioned at the beginning of the book, I don’t want to assume what they might have been going through. They seemed to be doing totally fine from an outsider’s perspective, but they were dealing with their own internal battles, while not verbally expressing it.

  Hayley and I have always been like sisters or best friends. Since I had her so young, she took on the role of being a mother figure to the younger ones more than a few times. I was burning the candle at both ends; sometimes it was good and sometimes bad. I was doing my best with Dawson and the kids, trying to keep up with my real estate job, while trying to take care of myself. In reality, I
wasn’t doing any of it very well, and sadly, my children were starting to pay the price.

  It is hard enough being a teenager in a stable home situation, so it was inevitable that my girls were going to hit a wall at some point with all the instability in their lives. I decided that moving back to Houston, close to family, would be a positive change for us and offer a fresh new start. I also felt that the special education programs had to be better in Houston and thought this would be a good move for Dawson, too.

  I drove to Houston one weekend to interview with a couple of modeling agencies and ended up getting a job teaching modeling classes. Real estate was challenging as a single mom, since the schedule was so unpredictable and required weekends. It just wasn’t working for me.

  I was more than ready to get out of Austin and away from all the bad juju that seemed to follow me wherever I went. I was especially glad to ditch all the bad memories that were, quite literally, around every corner. Almost every day I was afraid I would see Amanda at the grocery store or at Starbucks, and I was so tired of the stress, just waiting for it to happen.

  Not to mention, Greg and Elaine had just gotten engaged. It was messing with my head; I hated the idea of Greg ever getting married again. I realize it was completely irrational, because I had remarried once already myself. I was sad to be leaving Hayley in Austin, but by this point she was grown up, on her own, and she needed to live her own life, free from all the family drama that had been with us for years. Most of all, she deserved a break from taking care of me.

  By this time, Brenna was fifteen and a junior in high school. She was having a particularly hard time at her school in Austin, and she was bullied relentlessly for reasons I am still not quite sure of. During this time, she was diagnosed with a rare form of arthritis called spondylitis, which required steroids to alleviate the symptoms. A side effect of the steroids was bone death in her hip, which led to avascular necrosis and ultimately a bone transplant. It was a devastating and life-changing diagnosis for her. The surgery was so rare that we had to travel to Duke University in North Carolina to have it performed. She had about six to eight inches of her fibula removed from her leg and inserted into her hip, much like a hip replacement with her own bone instead of hardware. While the surgery was a success, she had to quit cheerleading and was homeschooled for two months while she recovered.

 

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