I thought it was time I started my own journal. My purpose in writing is just to try and make sense of all of this, as well as trying to keep the thoughts from running away with me, which at this present time they have been doing. Dday for us was the day after my 38th birthday. I was 8 1/2 months pregnant at the time with our 2nd baby. My husband is in the military and stationed in the East while I am staying with my parents in the West. He was out visiting for my birthday and one night while he was sleeping I got the idea to browse on his phone to see what I could find. I found pictures all over his email of naked women, some celebrities, with computer drawn poop coming out of them. This was a fetish that I knew my husband had (of watching women poop), but not to this extent. I had discovered this fetish when we were dating, and when I made it clear this was something I was not interested in the topic was dropped. I had no idea that this was something he had continued interest in, so much so that he would watch videos of it (who knew that even existed??) and find pictures online. So anyway, when my husband woke up the next morning he knew that I had been on his phone and confessed how horrified he was that I had discovered this infidelity. He went back to the East a day or two later, and when he returned home I asked a million questions. This is when I discovered he had been partaking of this particular fetish for over 20 years, including the entire time we had been together. He had been hiding it from me, and PMOing the entire time we had been involved. I felt sick to my stomach. I could feel the walls closing in on me and feel my whole world being turned on its head. I could not handle the information he had just shared with me. While I appreciated his honesty and transparency this was information I was unable and unprepared to deal with. I could not talk to him, I could not stand the sight of him, I just wanted this person who had lied, cheated and broke my heart to just disappear. This was not the man I had fallen in love with. And worse still, this was the father of my children. So, since we have spent so little time physically together, it was easy to keep my distance. I needed him to stay 3500 miles away, because it was the only way I could process everything I was feeling. As it was, I couldn't process any of it. My head was spinning, my heart was shattered, and physically I was trying to keep a baby growing and thriving, all the while trying to figure out what I felt for this man, who was a stranger to me. Our daughter was born on December 17, and since she was our last I wanted him to be here for her birth. I did not know how I would deal with him physically here, but I had to put my own feelings aside, and not rob him of the moment he would meet our daughter. We kept talking the entire month, mostly of me asking a thousand questions trying to understand his addiction, and how he could continue to break my heart, despite knowing what his relapses were doing to me. I tried to focus on the arrival of our daughter, but I was so consumed by betrayal and hurt that I could not. Not only that, I had to listen to him talk about how HE was feeling, how much he was hurting. I felt bad for him that he was having such a hard time dealing with his guilt, shame and his own hurt but I did not ask for this burden. I did not ask him to continue his addiction, and I certainly did not want to be any part of it. I appreciated the fact that he was so transparent with me, but every time he relapsed it was like a punch to the stomach. It knocked the wind out of me every time, and I felt my heart shatter every time. I could never tell him this because it would hurt him too. All I thought during this month apart was, "Who is the real victim here?" I felt more often than not that he was, he certainly played the role, and I felt like my feelings and my hurt were secondary to his. Which only added to my own hurt. Fast forward to today. He is moving to the West at the end of the month. I'm not sure how I feel about all of this. On one hand, I think of the man I used to love, how much fun we had together, how he "got" me and how wonderfully comfortable I've always felt with him. Then on the other is this new man... this stranger... this person I recognize, but don't KNOW. I'm supposed to take my children out of the home and family they know, and live with him?? This person I can't trust... this person I will not leave alone with my children... and sleep next to him? I'm scared, I'm terrified. I'm paralyzed with fear and anxiety at the thought of having to do all of this. And yet, how can we make it if I don't?? I've been trying to understand from day 1 how someone can have a fetish like this. Where does it come from? How did it start? Can we even make it go away? Why did he have to lie to me for 6 1/2 years? How do I know if he's being honest now?? How can I ever trust him again? His parents are visiting him right now and he told them all about his PA. They knew. They knew he had this. The 3 of them have been talking all about it, and us. I asked him what was said and he was vague and evasive... It stirred up more feelings of anxiety, fear and distrust than I've felt in a long time. How do I know what his parents are telling him is true? How do I know what he is telling me is true? I am overwhelmed with stress, heartache and fear about this whole situation, and I don't know how to express any of this to him. He had a huge falling out with my parents while he was here... a whole other issue... THAT is adding to my stress. My parents and husband at war, and me stuck in the middle. I need my parents. They are safe, they are trustworthy, they help with me and my children. My husband is not someone I feel safe with right now... how do I move forward? I have therapy on Monday, and I will discuss ALL of this with her. I'm drowning. I'm barely able to breath most days, and I have to pull all of this together to care for my children. I have a helpless 3 week old baby whose whole well being is reliant on me, doing my job, focusing on her. My heart is so heavy, and the sleep deprivation is not helping. And my husband doesn't understand. He can't possibly. I don't feel like he understands, not even a little bit.