Through Loss And Pain Comes Stepmotherhood
I know this is long but I need some advice. My story starts out with me, a young single mom and two time cancer survivor. I eventually met my knight in shining armor in a man named Paul. A sweet, giving man who would step parent my dear son and give me another child. We were married for eight years and he had a heart of gold. Ironically, his heart is what caused his sudden and unexpected death of enlarged heart and sudden cardiac arrest with no prior warning. I always worried that with my cancer history, that I would be the first to go.
After his death, I was shocked, numb, devastated. I had not only lost my husband, but my best friend and confidant. Even more great than my grief for him and myself, was what I knew it must be doing to my boys. They were devastated too. I took comfort in knowing that his life insurance policy would provide for the boys and I planned on leaving it to them in case I passed away.
Almost a year later, I met my current husband at a widow support dinner. He had lost his first wife to lung cancer. I had no intentions of finding love there. I had been dealing with many suitors who were hot on the trail of a young 30-something widow. It was the furthest thing from my mind to fall in love again. But, fate had other plans. To be honest, I do not know what it was but I felt like I was supposed to be with this man. I fall hard and so did he. He told me he had never loved like this before, and although I loved my first husband beyond measure, somehow I felt like my heart was capable of loving even more this time around.
He had four kids, some adult-aged, some teen. I saw this only as a bonus. I thought we could all heal and come together as one big happy family that suffered a tremendous blow, but could heal with each others fun, love and support. Pretty darn naieve, eh? Well, we got married, a cheap-o justice of the peace and had our "reception" at Friendlys with his kids. I was gonna be the cool stepmom.
A few weeks later, I sold my home for profit and moved into his. I came across some old clothes that belonged to his first wife and talked to her and promised her that I would treat her kids as my own. I told her how sorry I was that she had to leave them. I meant it with all my heart.
Fast forward three years. I have been abused by three of my stepchildren. Almost all of the money from my first husbands life insurance policy is gone because my dh had a lot of debt that I had to help him pay off. His kids think that I am the reason that he has been cutting back on what he does for them. The truth is, he cut back completely because he was sick of their greed and he just didn't have it to give. I paid for everything. Christmases, birthdays, took them shopping, vacations..... all the time they thought it came from their dad so I never got credit. They thought I was a gold-digger. I explained that I wasn't. But, they still are determined to hate me. All except for one, who seems to love me and for that I am grateful. I'm nervous though because I told her she could have money for her upcoming wedding and now I don't have it because of an outstanding debt I am paying for my husband yet again. Any way you slice it, I look like a stepmom who is selfish and who "changed their dad" and I do not know what to do. It seems like his first wife's family has also done and said a lot of mean things that were untrue about me because they are so upset that the remarriage took place. I am at the point where I just want to run away from these people but I do not want a divorce. Oh, and I have another baby also.
Recently I bought christmas presents for all of the kids, except for one. The one that refuses to acknowledge me. I figured that my husband could at least pay for Christmas for him. But, he hasn't, so I am on the verge of writing a check out of my biological sons money that he gets from ss because his real dad died. Since it has been a few weeks since Christmas and we have not heard from him (we invited him and his gf over) I think he must be seething and even more blaming me. I don't know what to do.