The 39th week of pregnancy is hell.
I imagine everyone is hell is walking around 39 weeks and 6 days pregnant. Because seriously. Nothing is worse.
You're physically limited, emotionally out of control, and there's nothing you can do about it except WAIT.
About one week before my baby was born, my husband and I left our kids with a sitter and went grocery shopping. Walking around the store was one big mass of contractions and "honey, you have GOT to walk slower."
We were an hour late picking our children up solely because I was so slow-going.
With so much going on in my mind and body, I didn't have one inch of room left in me to CARE about my husband or think about his addiction, but as we drove home from our grocery date I felt prompted to ask him how he was doing.
Mostly because I truly didn't care. I was beyond caring whether he was looking at other women, how often he was, where he was...
But I couldn't shake the feeling, so I took a deep breath. and I took the plunge.
He unloaded. He opened up the deepest, most hidden-est parts of his SOUL.
He's been slipping, he confessed.
I listened as he talked -thankfully the nearest grocery store is a 30 minute drive from home, so he had plenty of miles of talk.
And when he was done, he waited nervously for my reaction. Which was:
"Thank you for being so honest -I really appreciate it... I just don't care, you know?"
They call me Princess Tact down at the office.
Interestingly, my reaction seemed to open up MORE of my husband's soul. Apparently, the less I care, the safer he feels talking to me. And he HAS talked... since that day he has been 100% transparent.
Not all the news has been good news, but still.
I don't care.
Maybe my heart is two sizes too small?
Or maybe I'm just more healed that I realized.
Maybe all I needed was a new little one in my life to help me step back, slow down, and realize that I'm doing okay. I'm doing all right. I'm even doing a little better than I thought I was.
Because for the first time in 8 years:
I don't care about porn.