This is a true story but in accordance with the Family Court rules any identifying information such as names and locations have been changed.

My Family Court (Justice?) journey started 14 years ago.  It is still in progress!

Fourteen years ago the mother of my child was 7 months pregnant.  It had been to that stage a relatively straight-forward pregnancy progressing well with all the signs positive that we would have a healthy baby.  Most likely a girl!

She would be the first child for both of us.  Although the pregnancy itself was going well our relationship was coming under increasing pressure.  I was working long hours in a stressful role and my partner as things progressed became increasingly strange.  Apparently that was “normal” given what was happening to her body and mind. 

It was during this period that I first became aware that the community support structures in place were entirely focussed on the mother and I, as the father, was the proverbial spare prick at the pregnancy.  I didn’t have any family support as both my parents had passed away and the only reference point I had was talking to mates who had been through the experience of having children.  Needless to say their advice was colourful and to the point – “she will be crazy”!

I hadn’t slept very well for about 6 weeks as she was taking up the whole bed and surrounding herself with pillows and I was left with less than one body’s width of space.  On a couple of occasions in desperation I went into the spare room to be woken up in the middle of the night being beat up by my partner screaming that I “didn’t love her anymore.”  My protestations that it wasn’t personal and that I just wanted some sleep went on deaf ears.  I always thought that when the baby arrives was when the sleep deprivation starts – I wasn’t counting on it happening with 2 months to go!

I was the main sheet on a keel boat which six of us raced both inshore and offshore.  There was an offshore race coming up leaving on the Friday night after work and returning on the Sunday night.  I asked for “permission” from my partner to participate and was given the all clear.  Needless to say I wasn’t aware that this was seen by her as an opportunity to implement an exit plan.  I found out later that her intention was to gut the house of furniture and move to her rental property further up the Coast while I was away sailing.  Leaving a letter on the kitchen bench explaining why.

However as often happens the weather didn’t come to the party and by mid-week it was apparent that the wind at the weekend was going to blow 30 to 40+ knots with high seas.  By Wednesday night it had been decided by the race committee to cancel the race.  

On the Friday I set off to work early in the morning as usual but with a nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right at home.  My partner had decided to not go to work and I was worried that she may not have been well.  I rang mid-morning to check up and the phone was answered by a female stranger who said “You have got the wrong number.”  I don’t think I’ve ever got my home phone number wrong.  A call to my partner’s mobile went unanswered so I called the land line again.  Again the stranger answered and again I “had the wrong number.”

By this stage I’m starting to get somewhat concerned so I drove home to check what is happening.  I was confronted with my partner, one of her friends and both her parents packing the house up.  I asked what was going on and was told by her mother – “isn’t it obvious Andrea is leaving you!”

I was instantly devastated.  I was overwhelmed with any number of emotions and in no uncertain terms asked them to leave the house.  No one did and they just kept on packing.

My first mistake was about to happen!  I found my partner’s father in MY office rummaging through MY papers and other personal stuff.  I told him to “F..k off and leave my stuff alone.”  He belligerently continued you on.  So I shoved him into the passageway.  Within minutes the police arrived and I was being accused of assault!  It took me some months to twig to how the police got there so quickly.  My partner’s “friend” (who we hadn’t seen that much of) worked at the police 111 call centre!

Two police turned up in the classic combination of “Good Cop, Bad Cop.”  I barricaded myself behind beds that had been moved into the passageway.  The police asked me to leave immediately or I would be arrested.  Yes arrested in my own home while people were trespassing and removing stuff.  I calmed down eventually with an inner voice saying “don’t make this any worse than it already is.”  I said that I would leave but I would be back at 6pm and the “moving” had to be completed by then.  I drove back to work with the Police Car on my tail the whole way.  When I parked my car in the public car park they again gave me a talking to.

I was never charged with assault but the “shove” eventually turned into “a beating” and wouldn’t be mentioned again until we arrived in the Family Court.