Whats better no dad or one who is in and out.

Brandi - posted on 07/28/2012

My 4 year old and 2 1/2 year olds biological father is now a drug addict and an alcoholic. He has only seen them 6 times in 2 years. The children dont understand this, its confusing. Ive decided that no dad is better than an in and out dad. I went throught the same thing as a kid. My mom was everything I needed and more and im just doing what she did.

Janelle - posted on 06/29/2012

I know how you feel. I have a son and I told his father not to call or look for us for the next 13 yrs because he too was always calling when he felt like it. My sons dad does not even leave in my state so you would think he would call consistently, but he didn't and I got tired of the lies and stories. My son does not ask for him anymore and things are a lot less stressful.

Kick him to the curve. You and your son do not need the headache. When he gets older and can understand better you explain to him what happen and why you did what you did. That is what I am going to do with my son.
I wish you the best and keep your head up.

LIZ - posted on 06/28/2012

cut him off

Chequita - posted on 06/24/2012

no dad if u ask me but thats just my opinion

Cort - posted on 06/23/2012

Kids need consistency. this in and out is NOT good for the kids and will most likely have greater effects on the child than if the dad was not in their life. the dad's broken promises are hurting your child and it's not fair for the child to keep going through this. take care and good luck!

Kristi - posted on 06/19/2012

Out...my daughter is about to turn 13. The abridged version. I tried for several years to make accommodations for my ex-husband to remain a part of my daughter's life. She loved him and I thought I was doing the right thing for her. His up and down and hot and cold behavior, among other things, has done her much more harm than good. "Among other things," aside, she would get her hopes up to see him and then when he didn't show I was left there to make up an excuse that wouldn't reflect poorly on the bastard he really is. She would make him pictures and build him stuff out of clay or cardboard, etc. and she'd be so proud of it, only to rip it or smash it up when he didn't show. As she got older she wondered what she did wrong to make him not like her anymore. (like, not love because all parents have to "love" their kids, but they don't have to like them...that's the meaning she took from school about loving your neighbor, loving all God's creatures) Then he'd come swooping in like a super hero and make her think "it was all her imagination" and he'd treat her like a princess for a few days or a few weekends while he was trying to show 1 of his 3 new wives what a rock star dad he was.(I was #2 and his on his 3rd one since me) Then his true colors would come out, he would ultimately choose one of the other kids over Grace, make her feel like it was her fault that he did and home she would come broken hearted and confused all the more.

Between my niavety and the court system, it took me some time but I finally got her away from him for good. We moved 1500 miles away. She was in counseling from about age 8 to 11. I wish I could get her to go out here because she realized him for what he is and I didn't have to point it out. I know what he is and I would not want to know that about my dad. She says she is fine and that she doesn't even care about him anymore but she has cried to me once (since we moved) that if she had been a better baby maybe her father & I wouldn't have got divorced in the first place and now he wouldn't want me to be dead and we could all still be a family. One other time she said if she had just kept her mouth shut maybe he would have picked us over this 5th wife & her kids. We had long talks each time but I still worry. I regret not cutting him out when everyone else was advising me to. She would still probably have some of the same doubts but they wouldn't compare to the pain and confusion she went through, not only that but it was disruptive to her schedule, not quite as big a deal when she was older but when she was younger and had nap time, regular daily schedule it was hard for her to readjust, it took away from her sense of security and stability on several levels varying with age. In any event, this is still probably more than you really wanted to know.

It's obvious that I feel just ripping it right off like a band aid is the best thing to do. Get him out, keep him out. (unless he makes a genuine effort and changed his ways and has proven that) It's hard, it hurts but in the long run it will save your son a great deal more pain and suffering. If you choose to cut ties, later, when your son is older and mature enough to understand and deal with the potential consequences that reuniting with his dad may have then you can let him decide if he wants to take that chance. I hope you are able to find comfort in a decsion soon. You'll feel better once you know which direction you're going. Good luck !

Lynn - posted on 06/18/2012

The X Factor

I believe that the moment 2 X chromosomes fuse at conception creating the magic and joy of a girl, an inbred gene dictates the natural yearning of mothering, nesting and birthing. As far as I can remember, I have always longed for children but it was not until my mid thirties, that it became a major quest in my life. Being a typical career orientated single woman in today’s society and after being in and out of heartbreaking relationships, the prospect of meeting Mr Right was by that time a distant figment of my vivid imagination. My biological clock’s batteries were by now having to be charged quite frequently. The odd sexual encounter suppressed prayers of possible conception with no success. The thought of going the normal route of courtship, engagement and marriage to the man of my dreams, with a mortgage and white picket fence also crept to the recesses of my subconscious. I was determined to travel the path of a single mother with a successful career to boot.

By 37, the subject of Artificial Insemination was broached with my gynecologist who said she would follow up on various options. After a year of discussing my decision with my family and friends, who supported me wholeheartedly, considering the pro’s and con’s, and the career now flourishing to new heights, the time and my ovaries were ripe! The clock by now had to be jumpstarted!

Throughout this, my periods would take the form of chronic hemorrhaging and eventually I woke up one morning with a lump the size of an orange in my lower left abdomen. My doctor diagnosed a cyst on my left ovary and a laparoscopy was scheduled. Having warned me that the enlarged skin that the drained cyst had left behind might fill up again, 3 months later I was back under the knife, this time for a laparostomy, the same month that I wanted to embark on AI! She also informed me that the reason these cysts where recurring is that I had endometriosis which reduced my chances of conceiving even more due to blockages of the Fallopian tubes. My reproduction system had been an absolute nightmare which had been cleaned up but recurrence was imminent.

I had also met a wonderful man and we connected immediately. Thoughts of a picket fence did cross my mind but put on the backburners of wishful thinking. The day before the op, being in a contemplating mood, my partner asked me what the matter was. I blurted out emotionally that when I thought I was going for AI, I was now going for another op. He was flabbergasted to think that I was even considering going the anonymous donor route when he was perfectly capable of donating sperm to me. He’s idea of donating was similar to that of spitting in the ocean – a feat of little emotional attachment.

Needless to say I was astonished as this was a relatively new relationship. Not only did I not know him well enough to consider this offer, the implications where enormous. I was not sure if he could handle the emotional strain of renouncing any paternal rights. He was incredibly good with children and with the inner voices cautioning me, this just compounded the issue. I was then undergoing counseling at the fertility clinic and was also warned about the dangers of a known donor. I had also had X-rays to confirm that my tubes were not blocked, that although my left ovary was slightly battle weary, all systems were in good working order.

After a 3 month relationship which by that time had evolved into an amicable and steady friendship, I approached my partner, asking him if he would still want to go ahead. He was even more resolute in his decision than before and plans were made for him to have the necessary tests. This was on a Friday.

By the Sunday, a telephone call from him not only upset me greatly and astonished me to my core. Having spoken to some friends over the weekend, which I had urged him to do from the very start, he accused me of falling in love with him, of trickery and dishonesty. Needless to say, it was only a matter of weeks for our relationship to deteriorate to nothing. The only alternative now was to go to the sperm bank.

By March 2003, my fertility treatment started. Armed with my best friend for moral support, we went to choose a donor. Fears were put to rest that she was not my partner but that I was 100% heterosexual, something that is quite novel as most single women having AI have same sex partners. No thick catalogues were produced to go by other than a verbal description by my specialist. Opting for a donor, all of whom are university medical students, with the same physical traits as my own, visions of this gorgeous blond, green eyed, athletic, intelligent 6”2 Adonis came to mind and my cycle was charted. With the ovulation date calculated, I was asked to come back, equipped with instructions of fertility drugs and injections, two days prior. Having confirmed that both my ovaries were ripe with eggs by an internal scan, blood tests were done to confirm that my estrogen levels were right; I was sent home with my final injection. 48 Hours and I was back at the clinic. To say that I was in a daze is an understatement. Everything had been so clinical so far and with all the prodding and poking that I had undergone the preceding months, it seemed unreal as I sat in the waiting room, having “foreplay” with this test tube clutched in my hand, containing pink saline while 5 million microscopic sperm was ready to travel the miraculous route to conception.

Twenty minutes later and quite possibly knowing what a Christmas turkey would feel like, I was on my way home to relax with my feet up. We would know in two weeks time.

By now, all my single female friends were all rallying around me. All single and in their thirties, this seemed to be their salvation as all wanted children but did not want to go through a relationship to achieve this. Even my male friends supported me with their bear hugs, offers to donate and paternal instincts. I was overwhelmed and seemed to become their beacon of hope and inspiration. But unfortunately, I alone could carry the flame as every day I would visualize the journey of the sperm, imagining what could be taking place. 14 Days later I started spotting. Ecstasy mixed with a touch of apprehension, I phoned my specialist. Being the signs of possible impregnation or the start of my period, a further two days confirmed that the insemination was unsuccessful. The first time was possibly the worst one, as emotions, aided by raging hormones, were rampant. Thoughts of being barren, of having to pay the sacrifices of being so career orientated, of leaving it far too late to have children all rushed through my mind. Being the youngest sibling of 5 sisters, all with children, left me with feelings of unworthiness, disappointment, chronic loss and emptiness. Had it not been for the sympathetic counseling of my specialist, I would have ceased the treatment immediately. The emotionally rollercoaster ride that I was embarking on was almost too much to bear. Gently coaxing me and informing me that most of his patients are only successful after their fourth attempt, I realized that I would pursue this against all odds. Adopting a more philosophical approach, I underwent AI 3 more times. The fourth and final insemination proved also unsuccessful. By September, my weight had escalated to an alarming rate, my hormonal level was at an all time high, bringing on immense bouts of moodiness, restlessness and lethargy. During that time, the stress levels at work were also enormous.

After a period of soul searching and introspection, I sat myself down and the following realizations came to me. In my present job, what with the pressure, full time commitment of working 12 hours a day on average with very little compensation, there was no way that I would be able to bring a child into this world. I had also aligned myself to the fact that I was not to go down the road of pregnancy but that motherhood was achievable in other ways. In my profession of public relations, I was always conceiving new ideas and giving birth to moments, nurturing and protecting clients and general overseeing the wellbeing of others. I could also consider adoption options further down the road. I had also found out the incredible world of a human body and how intricate and incredible difficult it is to conceive. Spiritually inclined, I had come to realize that conceiving is a miracle, a little soul waiting for the right time to take its place in your life.

During this time, I had met someone else. Destined from the start to being a long distance relationship, we would see each other possibly once a month. Each encounter was intense, as although we longed to be together, destiny dictated that we were not bound to be. I had told him in depth of my failure to conceive. Being empathetic and spiritually like minded, he aided me immensely in the road to emotional recovery saying that he would be honored to have sired my child, admitting forthright that if I ever did fall pregnant, he would automatically deny all paternal rights and would and could not have any involvement in my child’s upbringing. He honored the fact that I had this burning desire to become a mother and would respect my wishes every the step of the way. Wistfully, I knew he had the traits of a perfect father and if I had conceived from him, I would be able to identify possible features and mannerism in my child as well as having fond memories of him. But I believed that if I could not conceive in a highly sophisticated, scientific and controlled environment of a fertility clinic, the chances of falling pregnant naturally were now virtually impossible. It would have to take a miracle.

Shelving the AI idea, I then started researching overseas and local adoption agencies. The cost implications were astronomical and not affordable in my current position. Change was imminent. I had always considered having my own company and with my expertise, contacts and reputation this was the obvious next step. Knowing that this would be a long term goal, having my own company would allow me the financial freedom and time to build a solid foundation for raising a child.

In March 2004, I resigned my job to start my own business. The month was frenetic, with handing over my portfolio, tying up all the loose ends, establishing my new company, arranging functions, launches and events, even getting on a bicycle after about 15 years and participating in a 15km mountain bike race. At the beginning of the month, I went on a business trip and was once again united with my lover albeit briefly. It was magical but we both knew that we could not carry on with this relationship. It was a final and sad goodbye.

During the month, I had also embarked on a diet loosing a significant amount of hormone induced weight, started Yoga and literally embarking on a life altering makeover. The down side was that I has obviously anxious about the new company, leaving my old and with that came insomnia. Night after night I would toss and turn, mulling my future over in my sleep deprived mind. Would I be successful, would I adapt to the role of entrepreneurship although the majority behind me assured me that I would.

A week before my final day as being an employee, I realized that I had not started my period – I was a week overdue. Resigning it to all the stress in my life at the time, I left it for another couple of days. Going down with a bout of flu, I popped into the chemist for medication and on the way to pay, I grabbed a pregnancy test. By now this was a natural procedure. Another hectic evening approached as I was hosting a dinner party before leaving on a business trip the next day. Running around, packing, running the bath water, I took the test, leaving the wand absent mindedly on the hand basin. Having gone through this routine during my AI, I had already resigned myself to the test being negative.
Walking past the basin to turn off the bath, I glanced across to the amazement of 2 stripes staring back at me! I can’t express the feeling. It was a mixture of disbelief, ecstasy and trepidation but above all, this utter sense of calm enveloped me as I lay in the bath, a feeling of knowing that although not ideal, in my circumstances, this was right. That little soul had indeed waited patiently for the right time to take her place in my life. I had always wished that I would have my own company and a child before I turn 40. Well, the biggest gift of all arrived a month before that while the company is establishing itself as we all knew it would.

As I hold my daughter, Elizabeth Alexsandra in my arms, I know that there is no love that can every overshadow this love for this life that I created virtually on my own. The miracle of her and her delicate features continues to be fascinating and indescribable. Her eyes that look up to me while she suckles at my breast, the total trust that is mirrored in them is humbling to say the least. Nothing and no-one can prepare you for that feeling that encircles like an iron fist, your heart.

I don’t perfuse to know all the answers, knowing that I will make mistakes like we all do along the way. I know it is a gift that only we woman can bear and although there is plenty of information that I lap up from books, the internet, my mother, family and friends, this still remains the most secret time in any woman’s life.

Of course, I would wish for the perfect scenario of the pick fence, but sometimes one is not destined to follow that road. I have chosen and embraced the role of single motherhood knowing that against all odds, I will provide the mothering, nesting and birthing that was implanted in my genes more than 39 years ago that I proudly call the X factor.

Mary - posted on 06/18/2012

It is not good for a father to come in and out of a childs life. I think it is better for the fathr just not to be there because in reality he isn't anyway. I have a 12 yer old that I have raised on my own. His father tried to come in and out of his life and I wouldn't allow it. My son has told me that he is greatful that I never let his father come in and out.

Angie - posted on 06/17/2012

I agree with the other posters...none is better. I tried for years and finally decided the continuous heartache and disappointment my kids got wasn't worth it. My oldest is almost 21 and he sees and talks to his dad occasionally, but it's very sad to me the kind of relationship they have. There is no respect and my oldest doesn't have the open relationship he has with me. It was even sad to me when my oldest came to me last Christmas and said Mom, I don't understand how he can be that kind of parent. It's tough. I don't know how old your son is, but if he's old enough (teenage years), maybe you can have a sit down with him and ask him how he feels about it and what he would like to do. Express your concerns about his disappointment, but support whatever choice he makes. You could also try to talk to his dad and lay down the law to him...this is the visitation schedule..keep to it or it all stops. Good luck :)

Curious - posted on 06/16/2012

I would say the same no dad is better than in and out. At least with the No Dad you wont have to look at your child's face and see the disappointment in there eyes. I don't like when someone gets their kids hops up and then brushes them off like there nothing. This takes a bigger effect on a child than the father not being there to me. I think you should tell him what you will do if he doesn't Straighten Up like just talking on the phone so he can still have some type of bond and if he tries to better himself then that's great for you and your kid but if he doesn't then your saving your kid from a lot of hurt!



best of luck!

Denikka - posted on 06/16/2012

I would say no dad is better than an in and out dad.
When I was young (VERY young-like under 3) my dad was in and out of my life. I was his kid when it was convenient. As soon as something more entertaining came along, he was out. My grandparents (who I lived with) made every effort for him to see me, doors were open to him 24/7. Eventually though, they said enough was enough. He was either a dad, or he wasn't. He chose not.
After not seeing him at all, I re-met him at 15. I was asked if I wanted do, and at that point, I did. He's still as inconsistent as ever. With me at least. He's a great dad to his other kids.
As difficult as it is coming to terms with *my dad didn't want me*, it's 10 times worse, for me anyway, to have a dad who wants you only sometimes.
It's like ripping the scab off an old wound. It never gets a chance to really heal properly. You always thing, in the back of your mind, *maybe this time I'll be good enough, and he'll want to stick around* and every time, you get that slap in the face that you aren't.

Give dad the ultimatum. Be a dad or don't. It's 100% or nothing. And if he makes the choice not to be there, so be it. Give him ONE chance. If he breaks plans or breaks promises without a DAMN good reason, that's it. Start ignoring calls/e-mails/texts, whatever. Just cut contact.
If your son asks, tell him that dad needed to go do some soul searching for a while (obviously age appropriate).
When your son is mature enough, I would say about 13 or so, let him make the choice whether or not to establish contact with his dad again. Let him know, at that point, that some men aren't ready or aren't emotionally able to really be dads. Explain that you wanted to protect him from being hurt, which is why you cut contact. But explain that he has the choice now. He can re-establish contact, understanding that his dad might still not be ready to be there, or he can leave it as is.

Make sure though, if you do cut contact, that you let your son talk about his dad. It's almost like a death, he will grieve. And talking about it, explaining it, will help him come to terms with everything. This won't be a couple of weeks or whatever. Any time your son wants to talk about his dad, talk with him. He will have questions as he grows up. Answer them as honestly as possible without bad mouthing his dad.

It's a tough thing. It really is. But it's better to let wounds heal than constantly be reopened.
Good luck :) to you and your boy