The Beginning

The Beginning

T

he day that my daughter was born was the day that my true purpose in life began. Before this day I was just an individual living my own life pretty much however I wished or was able. I had no idea of the heart wrenching, often terrifying and intensely difficult, but rewarding odyssey we were about to embark upon.

   I was not lucky enough to be able to be present at Sarah’s birth. In fact, I wasn’t even informed of the event until hearing about it through the grapevine several weeks afterward. This was no big surprise since I had only been involved with her mother through the beginning of the first trimester. A previously undiagnosed psychological problem led her to lose touch with reality and disappear from contact with everyone, including her family.

   We had extremely divergent viewpoints towards maternal health and what roles we each should play within a parental relationship. The culmination of our initial relationship centred on her sudden and increasingly uncontrollable substance abuse. I only discovered that there was an issue with this behaviour after spending two weeks away on my own trying to relocate us to our hometown. Unfortunately in my absence Sarah’s mother had turned to self-medicating in an attempt to escape the psychological symptoms she was experiencing.

   I didn’t hear from ‘Mom’ until she called me out of the blue one Sunday night 14 months after the birth. She was supposedly settled into an apartment in a nearby suburb and was inviting me to come and meet my daughter. Her voice held an undertone of urgency, almost desperation. She wanted me to come out and see them the very next day. There was a bus strike on at the time and, being unable to secure a taxi, I arranged for a family member to drop me off at the near-side of a bridge leading there, and walk the rest of the way.

   I had no idea of the turmoil I was quickly marching towards.