(Hope) You really have it together; I am so impressed with you. I can't really offer advice to someone who's doing so much better than I am! I just dropped by to say hello. How is the little one doing? Kicking and moving about?

Awww, thank you. Actually, I can't take credit for having things together. Wanna know the secret? I have no options. When H left, he left. That was it. Yeah, he started coming back around last month, but I don't know why. I initiated the contact even then, but only after going 3 weeks without contacting him at all. From when he left on Sept. 16 to when I called him the week of Thanksgiving, he contacted me not once: No calls, no visits, no text messages, nothing.

And to this day, he hasn't called to ask one time how I am or how my daughters are, despite having been an active part of our lives for nearly 4 years. He hasn't called to ask how our unborn baby is, or how my pregnancy is going at all. Had he not lived across the street from me for the first 4 months after he left, I'm sure I wouldn't have seen him at all. The first time he came over was that week of Thanksgiving. After 3 weeks totally in the dark, I called him to ask if he would change the oil in my car. He didn't even recognize my voice, or at least he said he didn't. When I asked him for the favor, he eventually said he would do it but he put up a little fuss first. Told me to go buy everything, which he knows I'd be at a loss to do because that was always "his job." And he told me I'd only be saving $10 to have him do it. But he did it anyway.

And while he was over, we talked. We had a humorous back and forth about him rolling my trash can out to the road for me. I told him he should do it for me. He said, "Why can't you do it?" And I joked about being preggo and how he should look out for me a little. Later that night, the girls and I got home, and my trash can was rolled to the street. I TMed H (who was on his way to his folks' house in PA) and asked if he was responsible for it, and he wrote back: "No the trashcan boogie man did it."

Ahhhh. It was so awesome, having that little piece of my sweet H back.

Anyway, to make a long story short, that started a three-week road to recovery. He and I talked almost daily (still initiated by me for the most part). But for the first time since he had left, he initiated contact with me one Saturday morning (Dec. 10) when he called and said, "Hey, I'll be over later. I'm running to the store and just wanted to call to see if you needed anything."

That was one of the first things I had listed as "I'll-know-we're-improving-when..." Later that night, we went on our date and he "committed" to working on our M, though he had already said a few days before that he thought we could work things out. That Saturday night was also the night he told me about OW, but he said he had only taken her out "a few times" and that "nothing ever happened" between the two of them. He said he had cut things off with her right before he started coming back around the house (which would've been Thanksgiving-time).

Anyway, we ML twice that week in December, including the night of our date on the 10th. The baby's ultrasound was three days later, on Dec. 13. And I walked in on H and OW in bed the following day, Dec. 14.

And from that moment forward, I have been the manipulative b!tch who wrecked my own chances of reconciliation with my H , and he's become pretty much nonexistent ... again. We're right back to where we were when he first left: No contact whatsoever.

So it's not, IMHO, some supernatural willpower I have to move forward with my life. It's just that I don't have that many options. My H has left me with none. I mean, I guess I could mope around all the time, but where is that realistically going to get me? Yes, I have bad days, but those days are brought on by my own assignment of feelings to the "event," and not by the event itself. So I try to remember that if I had control over my feelings enough to get sad over remembering my H, then I have enough control to make myself forget about it once I've remembered it.

Geez. I know I'm prolly waaay rambling about stuff that really doesn't make any sense. But my original idea was a simple one: That sometimes I think that my sitch is actually a little easier to handle than many others', because my H left me high and dry. He doesn't toy with me -- whether intentionally or not -- by coming and going. I don't have to deal with seeing his face or hearing his voice or wondering if he's gonna stop by tonight or come over for dinner next week. My H's gone ... just as gone as the spouse who cleans out the house one day and bolts without telling his/her partner. And it's kinda as simple as that. But it still really, *really* sucks.

As for the baby, he's wonderful. Topsy-turvy, 'cause he's still small enough to have some wiggle room in there. He's prolly about 12 inches long, from head to toe. I have about 18 more weeks to go before he's expected to arrive, so he has plenty of time to grow. I actually wasn't showing until the first weekend of January. As of the end of December, I had gained less than 2 pounds total ... until I went to my sister's for New Year's. She's preggo, too, and shoved food down my throat for five days. So it's hard telling how much weight I've gained now. I know the baby sure grew. I've officially "popped!"