From doorkicker to diaper changer: My strange journey from full time Soldier to full time dad

Jon Nunemaker

Life is full of change. Some good,some bad and sometimes unexpected. I ended up in the spectrum of the unexpected life change. My life for the past 16 and a half years was ending and I was moving into a new career. A career that I had only fleeting experience with, to the detriment of those who it effected most, my children. It was not my choice, but a choice that was made for me, as it was beneficial to all parties involved, as painful as it seemed my life was out of my hands. 

I joined the Army in 1997 as a Military Policeman. I had only intended to serve out my initial 5 year enlistment and then move on. By 1998 I had a little girl that I saw on the weekends and being a single new dad, I had no idea what the hell I was doing. The relationship between her mother and I failed, its what happens when you’re young and both of your hearts aren’t in it. I tried as best I could to make the most out of the time I had with my daughter,which was for a couple of hours during the week and on the weekends. I remember when she would wake up at night I would give her a bottle like most normal people but I didn’t realize that its ok if she fell asleep drinking it. So here I am, lost in the sauce as we used to say, keeping a baby awake so she could drink her bottle,when all she wanted to do was go back to sleep. I have learned since then.

By 2001 I was newly married, had a very pregnant wife and was looking forward to leaving the Army and starting a fresh life with my new family. All of that changed on September 11th. As everyone in Americas life changed that day, I was not immune to it. My life had a purpose and that purpose was to stay in the Army and fight like hell. I was always a bit of a brawler in my youth, one of the latchkey kids who was quick to put a pounding on whoever thought they were tougher than me and once they put a name to the group who did it, I had the next opponent on my list. I went to Iraq in 2003 and missed the birth of my third daughter and volunteered to go back again in 2004-2005 where I was wounded and lost my father, but my hatred for those who killed so many innocent people, who came from a host of different nations and backgrounds to our beautiful American melting pot is why I stayed in the fight. When I came back in 2005 I had three sets of eyes that looked up to me and it scared the hell out of me. I wasn’t a very competent dad and I had started to exhibit some signs of PTSD, but I internalized my rage and my almost constant anger. All  I wanted was to get back into the fight.

The next opportunity for that took place in 2008. Another beautiful baby had graced us with her presence, but I was a half ass dad because I was fixated on the greatest high there was. War is addictive, the adrenaline is addictive,the fear is addictive,the lifestyle of a warrior is addictive and that risk is the sweetest dope of all. I ached for it. I had my fix, I was in Afghanistan, this time with a Military Working Dog, running around with a small group of men, finding bombs,getting bombed,getting shot at and so high on all the addictive effects that war can have on you that I didn’t realize just how much was wrong with me. I volunteered to stay for another year, but was denied. I knew that I loved my family, but I also knew that I loved war just as much. It was being ripped from me and off I went back to a world of a loving family and a society that I had no idea how to relate to or emotions that I could not control or understand.

I came home angrier than before. The family I missed got less of me than I ever realized. I didn’t know why I felt the way I did, I couldn’t control it and I tried to ignore this confusion that began tormenting the new me as I lost the grip on who I once was. It was like a scab that I wouldn’t let heal, not because of the boredom,but I found comfort in the rawness of the  wound. I spent my time begging to deploy again, begging to feel that adrenaline again and when it wasn’t coming, that sadness about a love lost, turned to a deeper anger and almost constant aggressive posture that was there for everybody to get a piece of. PTSD manifests itself on so many different levels. Some try and drink it away or snort it away, or ignore it altogether until it all exposes itself in its rawest form. I dealt with it how I knew. I wanted to fight, anyone, myself included. I had a blackout where I tried to open one of those older Yamaha acoustic guitars on my forehead and I couldn’t justify to anyone how I was wrong in doing it. It was an anger that I had never felt, anger I couldn’t control and I could not hide it anymore. I was Command directed(which is essentially when your leadership takes you into an office and directs you to go talk to someone.There is no option). I went to Walter Reed(I was stationed in Washington,DC at the time) and talked a little and was given more pills than substantive solutions or coping mechanisms. Life was changing for my family and I again. I was being sent to Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio,Texas to train future Military Working dogs. I knew that this is where I wanted to be, but it was too early. I wanted another deployment, but it wasn’t coming, so I took the family down to the Lone Star State. 

I realized by the time and probably before, that I really needed to focus on my mental health. I had been embarrassed to admit it, but I was also more embarrassed about my behavior when I had a flare up and did not want to end up like a very close friend of mine who lost his fight with PTSD and ended his life. So with a family of 4(3 of the girls were with us, my oldest was in Washington State with her mother) we set out to Texas. My wife was pregnant with baby number 4 when we arrived and being the son and grandson of native Texans, I was excited about having our first Texas baby. I was in treatment and with more time at home, I had more time to be with my family and more time to show them that I was not getting very much better. 

Our lives were not only turned upside down but crushed when the daughter(Melissa Louise) that we looked forward to so much was stillborn. I have lost friends in war and I could at least have an effect on the lives of the people that they were affiliated with. When you lose a child, there is no outlet for that anger,that pain,that anything. I had to grieve,I had to be there for my family but I did not know how. I was a totally different person than my wife had married and I did not know how to constructively help or deal with the pain that I was feeling. I was a piss poor husband,a piss poor dad, but I was good at war and when there is no war that I can get into, I slipped further down the ladder,culminating in me having rage blackouts.

The Army and my Psychiatrist had taken notice. I had exhausted all the help they could give me, so it was time for me to go to a medical board. In the Military when you are sent to a medical board, they determine your ability to continue to serve. My PTSD was severe enough that the medical board decided that I could in fact, not continue to serve and I would be medically retired. My doctor had suggested that if we had the financial ability to(which we really didn’t), that I take the next year off of any type of work to focus on a true reintegration to not only the civilian world, but the world of what truly being a husband and a father was. We had another little girl, our miracle baby that we named Emily Rhys. I finally had taken the time to notice what a sweet gift a baby is. Not only because of the loss of Melissa, but because I never had the time and was frankly too scared to give my all to the experience of being a father. It was a mindset that I put myself in when I first deployed. I made peace with death,with killing and with the fact that I may not come home. There was no more running from that. This sweet little baby would be my new job and I would not short her.

My day starts with a diaper change and ends pretty much the same way. My wife, who is a NICU nurse works nights, so from 7PM until I put my other girls on the bus or drop them off at school, I am the end all,be all of a parent. I wake them up and with an 11 year old, a 10 year old and a 5 year old, who all stumble out of bed at various levels of grogginess I have no cut and dry way to wake them up,as I like to say, its a very fluid situation. I try and have tried different ways and being fairly new to the full time game, I am still learning. The baby is pretty easy. All I have to do is pick her up. She either stays asleep or is in baby groggy mode. That part I have down. I am in a new world, but I have a routine and it seems to work pretty well. The girls are off to school and the guy who was once obsessed with deploying has a new obsession, finding the best jogging stroller on our small budget. That Military mindset of checking,rechecking and checking again is how I treated this search. Instead of briefing on how I would search Qalats and the surrounding areas with my dog, I would brief my wife on how important it was to have a front wheel that can both spin and lock. My “go bag” that used to be filled with extra ammunition,medical supplies for my dog,Night vision goggles and extra batteries is now filled with baby wipes,diapers,diaper bags,a gatorade for the baby just in case there is no water source when we are out,3 extra outfits,some snacks and two extra bottles. 

Being an everyday dad with Emily has brought me so much peace. Sometimes I check on her when she sleeps and her breathing is so innocent and pure. Like the floating clouds in my beloved Texas sky, she does not know the troubles that the world has,the troubles I have been through before I was as stable as I am now,or the bullying that her sisters face at school, she only knows what its like to be held and unconditionally loved by our entire family. Her sweet smile can fix my broken days and when she runs around in her new little Nike shoes I see a  girl who has no problems in this universe, only concerned with how fast she can move those little baby feet,giggling the whole time.

Life has changed 180 degrees,from the time when I ran off the tailgate of a chinook to a bad guys compound with my dog to find his bombs.Now my fight is making  sure that I have the extra stroller in my truck tool box(thats what they are for,right?) so I have a way to effectively get around with the baby when we go on errands, or walks.The new “go bag” is replenished as need be,just like the one in my former life was. It sits in my truck,packed up and ready for whatever diaper emergency awaits. The lesson of “If you fail to prepare,prepare to fail” crosses boundaries of the life that I used to live and the one that I am currently living. I still am and will continue to live with my PTSD. My greatest regret is that my family still has to live with it too. We have our good days and unfortunately our bad days. What has changed is now I am present. Im not going anywhere and I cant lie, I miss it sometimes. I have missed so much more and I have to make up for it,sometimes by the seat of my pants. My kids love Starbucks and sometimes its a nice surprise to drive over with them so they can get a drink. My 11 and 10 year old are more concerned about the gossip at their schools that any life lesson that dad can impart on them while we sit around and enjoy our drinks. My 5 year old listens to me intently, but the pull of her older sisters and the way she looks up to them,she will soon follow suit. The baby is all ears. She listens to my off key singing, my little stories and whatever else comes out of my mouth. I learned in the Army, that when I leave someone will take my place.Its the nature of the business. The lesson that I learned now is that these girls only have one dad. I am theirs, not replaceable and I have so much to teach them.They also have so much to teach me, and that may be the most important lesson of them all.