Three years ago I divorced my husband. As they say, the characters did not come together.
He constantly criticized me, said that I was a bad hostess, I didn’t do much with children, that I had only clothes and parties on my mind. But all he has on his mind is work, work, work and nothing else.
Having lived together, or rather having suffered each other for 5 years, we decided to separate. Maybe we wouldn’t have gotten married if I hadn’t accidentally gotten pregnant.
So, the divorce. Courts, hassle with the division of property, alimony, with the determination of the place of residence of children, their meetings with the father. It’s a long story, I want to share about something else.
When dividing the property, we sold our house in which we lived. The former proved in court that he has more rights to this house, so after selling it, he gave me a third of the cost. The money is not bad. It was enough for me to buy myself a one-room apartment.
The children stayed to live with me. With two children in a one-room apartment, of course, it’s a little cramped. Exhausted by a difficult divorce, troubles at work, I couldn’t even find peace when I came home. The children were making noise, fighting among themselves, crying, acting up. They experienced our parting in their own way.
But my “dear hubby” bought himself a two-piece and did not grieve alone for a long time, soon he got himself another wife. The young ones lived happily. According to the court’s decision, the father took the children to his house for the weekend. I saw that his wife treats my children well. I also had to arrange my personal life.
It was at this time that I met a decent man and was afraid to scare him off, I didn’t want him to immediately find out that I have two children. Besides, he and I had to meet somewhere. And the kids exhausted me. Maybe I’m a bad mother, but I’m tired of my own children. So I talked to my ex-husband so that he would take the children to live with him for a while. His wife didn’t mind. He agreed, but on the condition that we draw up a notarized agreement that the children will live with him. I agreed. I would have known then what I was signing.
Alas, nothing came of our meetings with my new acquaintance. He didn’t need a serious relationship. He turned out to be unreliable and liked to live at someone else’s expense. I turned out to be an unsuitable option for him. I needed a man who could provide for me and my children. We broke up.
At first, I enjoyed freedom and carelessness. I met with my single friends. We went into a breakaway, as we once did before my marriage. All night long we danced in clubs, drank cocktails, met guys. I made several more attempts to arrange my personal life, but they all ended in failure. I never managed to pick up a decent man with money.
Then I decided to take the children and live for them, to give up the idea that I would ever get married again. And then I found out that my ex-husband and his wife do not intend to give me children, that the agreement is indefinite. I signed it then without looking, I wanted to breathe freely and that’s what my carelessness led to.
Moreover, they also want to sue me for deprivation of parental rights, since I do not care about children and lead an immoral lifestyle – I meet different men and drink. Yes, there was such a period in my life, but now I want to live like a normal person and I really want to return the children. Despite my frivolity, I can’t imagine that I won’t see my beloved kids again. The thought makes me sick. I intend to fight for my crumbs. I know it will be very difficult for me, my ex-husband knows the laws perfectly well, personally knows good lawyers.
Now I regret that I once gave the children to their father…