When I picked Gemma up from the babysitter's house on Monday, there was big news. Gemma had learned a new "word."
Now, I know Gemma wasn't calling out for her absentee father. I know Da Da is the same sort of unintentional babble as Ma Ma, Ba Ba, Ga Ga, or whatever the new sound of the day or week is. I know that in saying Da Da she was simply demonstrating that she has added another consonant to her repetoire, one that she will need later on in life to say Dog, or Dream, or....some other D word.
Gemma's biological father has never been a part of her life, and I am 99.9% certain that he will never be. The thing of it is, I don't even think of his not being there, or at least not often. On the rare occasion that it does come to mind, it barely elicits any emotion at all. Because it has always been, it just is. Does that even make sense?
And so far, it hasn't been that bad. She hasn't really asked any tough questions yet. But hearing the big news. Of her new "word". It really brings to light for me that this is something that I am going to have to deal with. Eventually. Maybe not today, and maybe not for a few years, but a child can't go around fatherless and not notice. Not care. And while I feel no emotion towards him, or even about him, I am sure that Gemma will have strong emotions, at least about the idea of him.
No matter what I do, who I become, regardless of my accomplishments...I will never be able to give Gemma her father. I am so profoudly sorry to her for that. I really, really am.
No matter what I do, where we go in life, how I raise her to be...The time is going to come where she realizes that he doesn't care.
No matter what, the only thing I can do is to keep on not thinking about it, until the next time that it hits me like a ton of bricks.