Recovery has been very weird for me. (Eighteen minutes to the six-month milestone.)

MC commenced at once, well as soon as we got back from St. Louis, and went very well. We spent a few weeks making sure the pre-A issues had been addressed, then just focused on Building A Stronger Marriage.

Thirteen days into R, I got pregnant, though I didn't find out for some time.

For the first two months or so, everything was going really well. MC almost stagnated, as we quickly assimilated the information, and there were no new problems to bring up.

The MC asked, one last time, if there were any difficulties in our sex life. Oh, no, everything is just great! And right after that it all started to fall to pieces for me.

I don't think it will ever be possible to sort out which feelings were A-related and which were made worse by the PG, but suddenly I lost every shred of desire for my H. All I could think about was him and her, even worse than before, and I didn't want him to touch me, or really me to touch him, either.

Did I talk to him about this? Well, no. I probably would have brought it up if the MC had asked, but he had already given up on everything as fine. I gritted my teeth and kept going, but without much inner enthusiasm. Not that it didn't feel good, but it was just sex. No emotional connection for me.

The emotional distance started to show up more, too. (I didn't talk about that, either.) I still made every effort to be loving, since love is an action and not a feeling, but my feelings were mostly getting worse.

In recovery #1, I was ready to fall back into his arms, to believe him and trust him and love him. The second time around, I just sat back and waited for the A to start up again. I had no confidence that it wouldn't, and rather thought it might at any time, despite my determination to divorce if it did.

And, finally, the resentment and anger started to surface. Or if not to make it all the way to the surface, at least it got high enough to where I could feel it. Into this environment came those awful letters from Gargamel, and you can imagine how that made the whole thing worse.

Not that it was all bad, and that's what was so confusing. We prayed and worshiped together, which was wonderful, and I would feel quite close during those times. Or when he would be extra thoughtful or loving, my happy feelings would overflow. Temporarily.

As soon as he wasn't around to show love and affection, such as being at work, I would be right back slogging through all those bad feelings, no matter how I tried to distract myself. It was always better on here, because then at least my A thoughts were turned to constructive directions, and not just a continual reliving of the place which would be censored if I mentioned it here, that AJ put me through.

It was wrenching, having dual citizenship in heaven and yet still in the bad place. I still do, to a certain extent, but not quite as much.

MC became quite frustrating to me. We would go over the same stuff each time, everything we talked about was fine, but inside me was this seething mass that was never dealt with, and I didn't know what to do about it. I mean, MC was always about us, and this problem was just within me.

AJ was happy, AJ was content, AJ was totally in love with me, AJ didn't think much about the A, AJ was JUST FINE! And I wasn't. All I could do at the time was keep on behaving in a Christian manner, continue to show love-by-actions, and hope it would eventually go away on its own.

Well, congratulations to me, and to us. Six months, yesiree. I'm going to celebrate by pulling AJ's uniform out of the dryer and going to bed.

To those of you who are still struggling at whatever stage of this thing, and that includes me, I pray you will be given the strength you need. The Lord is good, and will grant what you need to get through each day. Keep your courage and faith, and you will eventually leave the Valley of Shadow for the green pastures not far ahead. Your trials in the shadow will prepare you to enjoy the peace in store for you.

A smooth sea never made a skilled mariner.
~ English proverb

Neak's Story