Happy Father’s Day to the Man Who Made Me a Mom

home insemination Kit

Hey there,

Happy Father’s Day to you. Today feels like a big deal—even if it’s been a while since you’ve spent time with the kids. I can’t help but hope today might change things a little bit. After all, it’s your day; you are their father.

Yet, as I sit here, I can’t shake the feeling that you’re still missing out on so much. This isn’t about shaming you or stealing the spotlight as the one who’s always there for our kids. Quite the opposite, actually. Days like this remind me of how far away you are from being present in their lives, and I see the longing in our kids’ eyes. They miss you so much, despite everything.

It’s been over a month since they last saw you, but they still look up to you like you’re the brightest star in the sky. When you canceled last weekend, their little hearts shattered. They asked me, “Is daddy still sick?” I struggled to hold back my tears as I replied, “Yes, sweeties, daddy’s still sick. I’m so sorry.” You didn’t pick up when I called. You said you couldn’t bear to explain to them why they wouldn’t see you again.

That’s a heavy burden for me to carry. It breaks my heart to see their excitement when they think they’ll see you soon, only to have it dashed. But I’m grateful they still love you so fiercely. Right now, they love you like I once did—without question, without conditions. It’s a beautiful, reckless love that you haven’t had to earn, and that’s just because you’re their dad.

What you don’t seem to realize is that their love is also incredibly fragile. You’re meant to nurture it, not shatter it. I stumbled upon an old video from two Father’s Days ago, where you were chasing the boys around the living room, laughter filling the air. You were sober, healthy, and fully engaged in that moment. It felt like we were a real family.

I don’t know what was going through your mind back then, but that day, you were the father our kids deserved. Today, it feels like a world apart, and it’s crushing. I’ve moved on emotionally for my own sake, but our boys? They haven’t let you go, and they likely never will. You’ll always be their father, but whether you’re a dad is up to you.

I’m thankful that even in your absence, they have strong role models like my dad and my brothers. Still, there’s a daddy-shaped void in their hearts that they feel even at such a young age. That space should be filled by you.

Watching your life unfold is sad—not just for our kids but for you too. I’ve come to realize that I’m more heartbroken for you than you are for yourself. Until you face your own reality, it’s your sons who are suffering. They’re the ones who ask me why they don’t see you and why you’re always sick.

I can’t say for sure if you’ll ever grasp the importance of your role. Your father didn’t understand his, and now you’re missing yours. But here’s my promise: I will never downplay your significance in their lives. I won’t say anything negative about you to them. You’re doing that yourself, and I fear you’ll fade from their memories just as you’ve faded from their lives.

Regardless of your choices, you are their father, and today is about recognizing fathers. So, we’ll pick out a card for you, and whether they give it to you in person or mail it, it’ll be a small gesture. They might even draw you a picture. Then we’ll move on, as little ones do.

But I’ll still feel that ache. Not for me, but for you and our kids. Despite everything, I want to say thank you. You’ve given me the gift of being a mom, and because of your absence, I get to be there for everything.

So today, I celebrate you—not for the father you’ve been lately, but for making me their mother. I hope one day you wake up and realize what you’re missing. I hope you become more than just their father but their dad too.

Until then, thank you. Happy Father’s Day.