Our family story is typical in many ways, but in some it is not. Almost four years ago I found out that I was going to be a father for first time. This came as quite the surprise. We were not planning on getting pregnant, and I wasn’t sure I ever wanted kids. At the time I was 30 years old, and enjoyed going out and having a good time (sometimes too good of a time). I had a setback in my career a few years prior and was just starting to get things back on track. My hours were crazy and not exactly conducive for having a family. My girlfriend and I shared a one bedroom apartment and had not considered moving when our lease was up in a few months.
To complicate matters further by the time my girlfriend found out she was pregnant, she was really pregnant. Four and a half months pregnant to be exact. This would be a scary time for most couples, but there were some added issues for us. My girlfriend had a history of substance abuse issues, and was taking a daily treatment of methadone. One top of that she was an avid smoker of at least a pack a day. The health of the baby was a huge concern.
We found some great doctors and specialists and our concerns over his health faded some. I buckled down and bought a house with a closing date a few weeks before the baby was due, to make sure his room would be ready for him. The baby was born on time, but not without some scary moments. Our Callen was born healthy. He spent the next three weeks in NICU going through withdrawals from the methadone he received in the womb. This was a scary and heartbreaking time. It was then when I first starting writing him letters. I don’t know why I started but it helped me cope with things that were out of my control.
A little over a year later our lives would change for ever. His mother was acting strange, and it wasn’t hard to guess what the difference was. His mother had relapsed and was using drugs again. Her family and I got her help and thought we fixed her short lived relapse. As I would find, and should have known, there is no trusting an addict. A few months later I received a call at work that Callen’s mother was being arrested for drug possession in downtown Hartford. This would have been bad enough, but she had Callen and his young cousin in the car at the time. I raced down there and brought my son home, not knowing what the future would hold.
Its been over two years since the incident. Since that time it’s been just me and Callen, and I’ve kept writing him letters. Sometimes they’re just ramblings, others are about important events in our lives. Some deal with the good times, some with the bad. These letters are about the two of us, they are not about his mother. She does come up from time to time. I’ve tried not talk about her, and if I do I try not to be too negative. If she wants a relationship with her son that is her prerogative, not mine. If it happens that relationship should be based on their interactions, not my personal feelings towards her.
So that’s us in a nutshell. Just me, Callen, and of course the dog. I’ll be posting the letters as I write them. Sometimes I write often, but it is usually more sporadic. I will also be posting the letters I have written over the past three years. I don’t have a specific plan on this, but I guess I will figure it out as I go. My hope is twofold. First I would like to create a place where Callen can read these when the time comes. This is our life story and someday he may want to learn more about his younger years. Secondly, if anyone ever reads this I hope it brings them comfort and strength. Every parent has struggles and sometimes it is nice to know you’re not the only one. Everyone’s struggles are unique, their stories are different. This is ours.
Justin/Daddy