A Knock at the Door

I have only had this feeling of grief about a break-up one other time.

When my first husband and I got together, I felt the overwhelming feeling of a boy child. It was so strong that, when I would remember my dreams, he was always in them. Knock, knock, knock in my mind was this child.

My ex-husband and I were dating and we decided to call it off. I knew he was wrong for me, but I was devastated.  I remember going down to my mother's for the weekend. While I was being treated for my broken heart, I couldn't help but cry. I still felt the knocking and every year we were together, it grew stronger.

One particular moment was when I was getting a massage that weekend and for the entire hour, tears are running down my face. At one point, when she left the room, I curled up into the fetal position and balled.

Thankfully, we got back together, but I never was in love with him. It was strange. I just felt this tremendous life-force wanting to be born. Knock, knock, knock...

We got married and it took us a year to get pregnant. It wasn't like I wanted to be a mother immediately, but there was too much pressure from he and his family to not think differently. I thought maybe we could wait and have fun like most young couples our age. He didn't want that.
There was an agenda and I needed to follow it. LOL, yes, he was slightly controlling, but in this case, I'm glad I didn't wait.

When my son that I have been dreaming about all these years was born, I knew I was done. That I had brought this person in that was fated to be born with us as parents and now the knocking had finally ceased.

I'm not a fan of hypocrisy, so the minute I knew I felt nothing for the man I married and there was no more knocking, I had to go. I would have been a hypocrite to have stayed and it would have been unfair to everyone involved, especially my husband.

My son will be my gift to society. He was meant to be born.

Now, once again, I feel devastation and I'm trying to put my  finger on it. To be certain, my now husband was probably the worst mate, partner, or spouse one could ever have. Mean, addictive personality, Peter Pan complex, riddled with anxieties, abusive, and, in the long run, not giving in any fashion, so why am I devastated?

I know what my brain is telling me. I am literal enough to step away and see all the maladies, but why devastation?

I have run this record over and over in my mind, and I don't get it. Everyday, a new consciousness raising happens and I remember something cruel that was said or something mean that has happened. My heart has it another way. At least, I think it's my heart.

I have been on my knees plenty to time asking God to remove this demon that plagues my heart and yet, it doesn't happen.

What to do and is this another sort of knock on my door entirely?