It’s been 2 ½ years now since you’ve seen Neveah.
2 ½ long years.
Do you even know that last week was her third birthday?
No call, not text, no birthday card, no nothing acknowledging Neveah.
I wonder if you ever wonder when you’re alone if you think about Neveah. If you dream or imagine what she looks like or what kind of things she likes.
Then again knowing you you probably don’t care because you’re too busy trying to get your next fix.
I don’t know where we went wrong.
I don’t know what I did wrong. I thought we were on the same page on co-parenting? I even agreed to having a paternity test to prove that she was 99.99999% your daughter. I did everything to try get you to be in her life, yet you were callous and turned your back on her.
You made excuse after excuse for why you couldn’t come see her. Even your own mother made excuses for you.
I quickly came to realize that you simply weren’t ready to be a father. You had no desire to father a child much less take actual responsibility for it.
But Jacob, that’s not fair. It takes two to tango you know?!
I was still in high school when you got me pregnant. I was so scared. It was all so unknown to me.
I was so worried about how I would provide for her. I was worried that I wouldn’t be a good mommy. I was worried that you weren’t ready and that you would abandon our daughter.
You watched me when I was in labor. You saw Neveah be born. You witnessed the miracle of life, yet it didn’t change you one bit.
Motherhood rapidly changed me from a selfish teenage girl into a young yet mature mother.
The last time you saw Neveah was in October of 2012. I remember because you came to my house doped up. I let it pass, thought because my heart was still hurting at the time. I desperately just wanted my daughter to have a father, so I allowed you to see her.
I remember Neveah was fussy, so you rocked her and sang to her until she fell asleep. For a moment I saw a glimpse of the father inside you. For a moment.
Then you left.
A whole year and half went by before I heard from you again.
You called me screaming and yelling. You remember? You said some nasty and hurtful things.
You really hurt me when you chose to walk out, but you know who you’ve hurt more? Neveah.
She doesn’t even know you exist. She doesn’t know who her biological father is.
Quite honestly, I don’t even know if she’ll ever get to meet you again.
I don’t know if and when you plan to come back into our lives.
Secretly I hope not.
I carried Neveah inside me for nine months. I had to deal with being a pregnant teen in high school. I went through one of the most painful things any human being can go through—labor.
For the first year of Neveah’s life I had to raise her on my own.
I had to figure out how to pay rent and buy clothes, food, diapers etc…
I stayed up late hours of the night trying to soothe her when she fussy because she was teething. I had to comfort her when she had a fever.
It was I that carried the burden alone.
You’ve missed out on so much….
Her first tooth. Her first time crawling. Her first steps. Her first word—mama. Her first birthday. Her first boo-boo. Her second birthday. Her first dentist appointment. Her first haircut. Her first everything I witnessed and was there every step of the way, while you were an absentee father.
If you ever choose to come back into Neveah’s life I hope you come back sober. I hope you come back with an open heart and mind. I hope you put yourself in my shoes, and think about what I’ve had to go through as a young single mother.
I don’t want an I’m sorry. It’s not me that you owe the apology to. It’s Neveah. You owe that little girl an apology. You also owe her an explanation for why you chose to abandon her.
I dread the day that she asks me about her “real father,” and why he left. I dread it because I don’t have any answers. You just up and left. I can only assume that you were young and dumb. You weren’t ready, but that’s no excuse. Either way whatever the reason I want to hear it from you Jacob. I want to know why you chose not to stay and raise this little girl.
Even if you never chose to come back into Neveah’s life I’m not going to hide the truth from her.
I will tell her what I can about her biological father when she’s old enough, and the decision to find you will be up to her. It will be her decision to make not mine.
It’s gotten a lot easier now that I’ve found an incredible man whose taken on the role of fathering Neveah like his own.
Dave has always treated Neveah like his own daughter. He’s taken on both the financial and emotional responsibility of being her father. He has become that father figure for her.
He knows her likes and dislikes. He knows how she likes her ‘pachu (spongebob) milk’ every morning. I watch her eyes in delight when he comes home from work and she excitedly runs up to him says,”Dave I missed you so much!” I see the smile on her face she gets every night as we both kiss her goodnight and she says, “I love you my Dave.”
She calls him my Dave sometimes, and sometimes she calls him…daddy. He’s okay with it.
Essentially he’s been there since Neveah was a little over a year old. He’s been there through the fits and tantrums. He’s been there through the potty training. He’s been there to comfort her when she’s been sick. He’s watched her while I was at school. He’s taken care of her like she’s his daughter.
He may not be her biological father, but he is the only father figure she knows. He is her daddy.
I really thought you would step up and be a father, but boy was I wrong. I felt foolish for the longest time, and I cried a lot. I felt like my daughter would never get a full family unit. I felt like we were a broken family and then it all changed. I met Dave and our lives changed forever.
I’m not telling you this to try to hurt you. I just hope you’re doing okay Jacob. I hope you get the help you need. I hope you realize that you’re missing out on the chance to raise a beautiful little girl. I hope you see this and at least smile because we’ve moved on, we’re happy, and we’re well taken care of. I hope you realize that any man can make a baby, but it takes a real man to raise a baby.