If I could go back in time and tell myself to not get married in the first place, would I? Heck no. My kids are amazing and even if this marriage ends in a gigantic mess of hurt feelings and resentment at least I know that I'm halfway responsible for bringing two astounding individuals into this world as a result of the marital union.

When I look at my kids I know that everything was worth it. I think about how my husband made me feel about as big as a gnat, but then I see my son giggle and I know it was worth it.

I think about how my husband prefers silent treatment and guilt trips over rational conversation, but then my daughter dances through the house and I know that it was worth it.

I think about how my husband doesn't follow through on his obligations and how he resents me wanting him to push hard to succeed, but then my kids give me a big hug and I know that it was worth it.

It's when I start thinking about leaving that these same things keep me here. My husband twirls my daughter around or he sends my son into a fit of laughter from making funny faces and I feel guilty about ever tearing this all apart. I love my kids more than I have ever loved anything before — including myself — and the idea of shaking their world up bothers me to no end. 

How much less would my kids see their dad if the marriage ended? Would he take off like his father did? Would the seemingly unshakeable bond they all have together now be reduced to occasional visits and greeting cards on birthdays?

Or would my husband fight to take the kids away from me?

I hate that things have to be this way. I hate that I'm not part of a family that is altogether happy and content. I hate that my beautiful children will probably be the ones most hurt by a divorce. The mere thought of ever hurting them makes me want to scream, or throw up, or curl into the fetal position and cry.

I don't know what to do.