Thirty five years ago tomorrow I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. Well, he was doubly beautiful to me because I almost died. When I did wake up I thought he was dead. Perhaps the rocky start should have been considered an omen.

I loved my husband at the time; my first husband. When we married I was not aware just exactly how involved in drugs and drinking he was. Love is either pretty darned blind or he hid it very well. It wasn't until after the wedding when people showed up with drugs for wedding gifts did I begin to have a clue the rocky road I was about to walk down. But, as I stood in the bathroom door watching his friends shoot speed into the veins of my passed out husband in hopes of rousing him for his honeymoon did I begin to get a taste of just what I'd gotten involved with by marrying this man.

This first night was my first step down this path when they had me tie him off so they could try and get something in him to counter act the reds they'd done. Before this marriage was done it would delve into a heroine addiction. I, on the other hand, remained untouched by all his drugs.

So I told myself at any rate. How can one that is ever vigilant and trying to keep him from going just a wee bit too far and die claim to be untouched? How can a young, young woman that sat there and watched as her husband did nearly die of a heroine overdose consider herself untouched? I can't.

But.. I married him, I loved him .. the straight man.. and I was head strong and determined that somehow we'd make it through this. This man that would never lay a hand on me if he was straight and sober beat me. Twice. He didn't get a third chance.

When it was discovered that I was pregnant, something I was told would never happen, he tried to turn his life around. He took me to meet his aunt and his mother. His aunt was such a wonderful.. wonderful person. The baby was born and the three of us were happy but it was short lived.

His addictions would draw him back in and when the baby was eight months old, we were at home, the baby and I, with no food for him or food for the baby. I tried desperately to find something from a neighbor, to appease him with water because Daddy got paid today baby.. he'll come home and go get food.

He didn't come home but thankfully my neighbor did. My husband and his paycheck partied at the bar and that was the last we were together. I'd walk this path along his side but as soon as it affected my son this way I had to make a choice. I made a choice for my son to live a good life.

I thought.

I married a man, he adopted my son and life moved on. As the years passed I was again tip toe'ing down that same path I was before. Sure, heroine wasn't involved but does it matter if the substance is alcohol or drugs? An addiction is an addiction. No, he didn't beat me but I'd have rather been beat than told I was stupid and brain dead. I'd rather have been beat than to start to live every day with the guilt that I took this boy from his biological father, even his father agreed this adoption would be best for him and my son was still raised by a drunk. We could have stayed with his dad.. he could have still been his dad's son, still carry his dad's name (he was named after his father when he was born but that was changed when he was adopted.)

They say the third time is a charm and I am, for once living peacefully and with no substances of any kind tearing apart my marriage. He spoils me and I love him for it. He does all those things for me that I didn't get to do in life. Simple things like lights around the house for Christmas.

My son was 18 and moved out by the time my husband and I got together. He was angry at me for a very, very long time. I am his mother I shouldn't have left my marriage. He never got to see how happy I was because he carried that chip on his shoulder. By the time he started to forgive me enough to let me in his life again it was too late for him. He had a wife and divorced her, he had children and this wife drove him crazy. He'd call me in tears because things were simply too crazy.

Then, at some point, and I'm speculating from things he's said.. his daughter was the perfect image of his wife. But, she was different. He fell in love with his daughter. This is what he says. Six counts of rape have landed him in prison for twelve years. I've cried for days and I cry today too because tomorrow is his birthday. He called me today. Not even my husband believes he's actually done this. Sure, he admitted to it but his wife has made it a point to assure me that..

He did NOT rape his daughter. His daughter said he did not do this. She said it at first because she and her dad where having an argument and she knew, because this has happened to her before, that this would get him into trouble and shut him up. The ex wife also said he made his daughter take a pregnancy test but my son can't have any more kids... there would be no need for that if it was him. Because if one were to go by his admission he was doing this in my house, in my son's house (with the Kiddo) and my other son's house. Plus, there was a time he lived with his friend. And yet, nobody ever saw even the slightest, smallest wierd thing.. not even a wierd look between the two. There was no admission of guilt until, according to the ex wife, the police were starting to investigate her and she told him to fix this. Suddenly he's admitted he raped his daughter and the cops back off of her. The ex wife's boyfriend called me in hopes to contact him and make sure he did not go through with this admission. But.. it was too late. He turned himself. And then I saw a wierd picture of his daughter and his son looking .. uhm. Friendly. Is my son protecting his own son? That sounds like something he'd do.

In the end it doesn't matter. My son will always be registered as a sex offender. I will celebrate his birthdays with an aching heart because he's in prison and I can't see him. Because I wish I could hate him. I wish I could believe he did this and hate him or believe without question that he did not do this.

For a time I was better. For a time I had begun to not think of him every day. Today he called because tomorrow is his birthday. On his birthday he won't be able to get to the phone till late at night so he called today.

And..I.. forgot to send him a card.