Mediation and Emotions
Today, Stephen and I went to mediation. In a divorce mediation, the two parties typically sit in different rooms with their respective attorneys, while a mediator (usually an attorney who specializes in mediation) goes back and forth to help the parties come to a mutual agreement.
This morning was stressful. We woke up a little late, it took longer to get ready than I'd anticipated, we were just about to head out the door when Baby Girl had a nasty diaper. My heart sank. I had arranged to take the kids to daycare for a few hours while I was in mediation, but I knew that most daycares won't accept kids who are sick. I finished getting everybody ready and we got in the car. As we pulled out of the neighborhood, I called the daycare. I was right. They wouldn't take my daughter today.
I pulled over to the side of the road and cried for a minute. Despair threatened to overwhelm me, but that strong, bright part of me that I've been getting to know lately seemed to burn within me. "Don't give up," it said. "You're not alone here. You can figure this out. Don't give up." I took a couple deep breaths and collected myself. My kids sat quietly in the back, wondering what was wrong with mommy. I told them I wasn't sure what to do and I felt a little scared, but we would just drive and hope we could find someone to help us on the way. They asked if they could have some gummy bears. Darling little goofballs.
I called a few friends, and none of them answered. It was 8:15 a.m.; I didn't blame them. My panic seemed to be balanced out by that strong part of my soul that urged me to keep trying. I felt a little like I was drowning, but I didn't give up.
After another 15 minutes of driving, one of my friends called me back. I tearfully asked her if there was any possible way she could do me a huge favor and watch my daughter for a few hours. She said she could, maybe not quite as long as I'd hoped, but she would rearrange her schedule and make it work as long as she could. I thanked her and we agreed to meet at the daycare where I would be dropping off Sweet Boy.
When we hung up, I cried again. My anxiety was still high, but I was also feeling something else: deep, almost painful gratitude for the love and kindness of a friend. I had been afraid that I wouldn't be able to make it to the mediation - that I would have to pay a cancellation fee and have to reschedule for who knows how far out. I was touched by how ready my friend was to serve me. I was humbled.
I got to the daycare, got Sweet Boy settled, signed a bunch of paperwork, and handed off Baby Girl to my wonderful friend. On the way to the mediator's office, I prayed again - that I would be calm, willing to listen God, to myself, and to Stephen. I felt weirdly physically anxious, but "strong me" was calm. "You've got this," it whispered, "If things get crazy, slow down and listen for a bit. You don't need to panic." I made it to the mediation exactly 30 minutes late. I was in one room with my attorney, Stephen in the other with his attorney. The mediator introduced herself and explained the process a little. Then we got started.
Stephen and his attorney came up with a proposal for our agreement, based on previous unofficial talks as well as paperwork that had been filed with the court. They talked to the mediator about it, and she came to explain it to us. We agreed with most of it, but had some changes we requested. She took our requests back to the others, and we went back and forth in this way for a couple of hours.
I continued to feel physically anxious - I was a little shaky (though that may have had more to do with the fact that I forgot to eat breakfast), my stomach felt tight, my body was tense. But my heart felt calm. I knew I could do this. I knew I was strong and I was ready. I knew I wasn't alone.
I had asked friends in one of my support groups to pray for me. I knew that they were praying for me and thinking of me. At one point during the mediation, I thought of them and felt the peace and warmth of their support and prayers. I remembered how many people in this world care about me and love me even if I'm a total failure. I remembered that God is with me. It was a wonderful feeling, remembering how loved I am.
Finally, we had it all worked out. Stephen and I each read over the agreement one more time and signed it. I had to hurry and leave to pick up the kids, but he and I talked to each other over the phone for a few minutes as I drove home. We both felt a little sad, a little confused. I knew I had some difficult feelings inside that I would have to box up for now so that I could be present for the kids. Stephen and I had a brief conversation about parenting time for the week and respectfully checked in with each other about how we were feeling. Then we said goodbye.
I haven't opened my "box" of feelings yet. I almost did earlier tonight, but the kids were still awake. I was in a funk after that. I think I'm tired. I think I needed to write all this out. I think I need to be alone outside for a while. I don't have a cute analogy or moral for this particular post, but I wanted to write something, and this is my life today: ups and downs, fierce strength and painful fear, sadness and optimism. I am human. I'm doing my best and I'm going somewhere great. I'm grateful for my experiences and for my feelings. I am alive and I'm feeling it all, and it is all for my good. I can do this.
This morning was stressful. We woke up a little late, it took longer to get ready than I'd anticipated, we were just about to head out the door when Baby Girl had a nasty diaper. My heart sank. I had arranged to take the kids to daycare for a few hours while I was in mediation, but I knew that most daycares won't accept kids who are sick. I finished getting everybody ready and we got in the car. As we pulled out of the neighborhood, I called the daycare. I was right. They wouldn't take my daughter today.
I pulled over to the side of the road and cried for a minute. Despair threatened to overwhelm me, but that strong, bright part of me that I've been getting to know lately seemed to burn within me. "Don't give up," it said. "You're not alone here. You can figure this out. Don't give up." I took a couple deep breaths and collected myself. My kids sat quietly in the back, wondering what was wrong with mommy. I told them I wasn't sure what to do and I felt a little scared, but we would just drive and hope we could find someone to help us on the way. They asked if they could have some gummy bears. Darling little goofballs.
I called a few friends, and none of them answered. It was 8:15 a.m.; I didn't blame them. My panic seemed to be balanced out by that strong part of my soul that urged me to keep trying. I felt a little like I was drowning, but I didn't give up.
After another 15 minutes of driving, one of my friends called me back. I tearfully asked her if there was any possible way she could do me a huge favor and watch my daughter for a few hours. She said she could, maybe not quite as long as I'd hoped, but she would rearrange her schedule and make it work as long as she could. I thanked her and we agreed to meet at the daycare where I would be dropping off Sweet Boy.
When we hung up, I cried again. My anxiety was still high, but I was also feeling something else: deep, almost painful gratitude for the love and kindness of a friend. I had been afraid that I wouldn't be able to make it to the mediation - that I would have to pay a cancellation fee and have to reschedule for who knows how far out. I was touched by how ready my friend was to serve me. I was humbled.
I got to the daycare, got Sweet Boy settled, signed a bunch of paperwork, and handed off Baby Girl to my wonderful friend. On the way to the mediator's office, I prayed again - that I would be calm, willing to listen God, to myself, and to Stephen. I felt weirdly physically anxious, but "strong me" was calm. "You've got this," it whispered, "If things get crazy, slow down and listen for a bit. You don't need to panic." I made it to the mediation exactly 30 minutes late. I was in one room with my attorney, Stephen in the other with his attorney. The mediator introduced herself and explained the process a little. Then we got started.
Stephen and his attorney came up with a proposal for our agreement, based on previous unofficial talks as well as paperwork that had been filed with the court. They talked to the mediator about it, and she came to explain it to us. We agreed with most of it, but had some changes we requested. She took our requests back to the others, and we went back and forth in this way for a couple of hours.
I continued to feel physically anxious - I was a little shaky (though that may have had more to do with the fact that I forgot to eat breakfast), my stomach felt tight, my body was tense. But my heart felt calm. I knew I could do this. I knew I was strong and I was ready. I knew I wasn't alone.
I had asked friends in one of my support groups to pray for me. I knew that they were praying for me and thinking of me. At one point during the mediation, I thought of them and felt the peace and warmth of their support and prayers. I remembered how many people in this world care about me and love me even if I'm a total failure. I remembered that God is with me. It was a wonderful feeling, remembering how loved I am.
Finally, we had it all worked out. Stephen and I each read over the agreement one more time and signed it. I had to hurry and leave to pick up the kids, but he and I talked to each other over the phone for a few minutes as I drove home. We both felt a little sad, a little confused. I knew I had some difficult feelings inside that I would have to box up for now so that I could be present for the kids. Stephen and I had a brief conversation about parenting time for the week and respectfully checked in with each other about how we were feeling. Then we said goodbye.
I haven't opened my "box" of feelings yet. I almost did earlier tonight, but the kids were still awake. I was in a funk after that. I think I'm tired. I think I needed to write all this out. I think I need to be alone outside for a while. I don't have a cute analogy or moral for this particular post, but I wanted to write something, and this is my life today: ups and downs, fierce strength and painful fear, sadness and optimism. I am human. I'm doing my best and I'm going somewhere great. I'm grateful for my experiences and for my feelings. I am alive and I'm feeling it all, and it is all for my good. I can do this.
I just salute to your courage and understanding of things. A true brave heart, who knows her limitations and strengths and acts according. it brought tears in my eyes but at the same time i felt Good.
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