For about 6 weeks after I returned home things were picture
perfect. He was so kind and good again and we continued counseling,
I felt maybe my life would be good again finally, for the first
time in a very long time I felt hope.
But then disaster struck, he lost his job right about the same
time I found out I was pregnant. Oh he didn't start hitting me
right away, but we were so broke on my small salary and the tension
began to creep back in. We finally had to leave our apartment as we
couldn't afford the rent on my income alone and trying to prepare
for the baby I was carrying. We moved in with his mother into the
garage that had been renovated into a room for us so we at least
had some privacy.
He finally found another job but it was not one he was happy in
and his anger began returning in brief flashes here and there and
all the while he claimed to be doing so well that he had decide
there would be no more counseling. We finally managed to get back
into our own small apartment but that just served to isolate me
more in ways. I thankfully did not have morning sickness with my
pregnancy for I truly was only finding refuge in my job, it was the
only place I could "get away". But I ended up feeling sick in the
evenings and this only served to anger him and begin again the
comments about how worthless I was in my life.
I remember also vividly the moment he first hit me again while I
was pregnant, and I had such feelings of horror and rage, I had
never before or since felt such hate towards any one person. I
could only curl into as small a ball as my expanding stomach would
allow and try to cradle my baby, growing inside me...for I had no
where to go once again. He had begun to pick my checks up for me so
he could take them to the bank as he only worked half days on
Fridays so I was once again penniless, and so alone.
He started drinking, amazing isn't it that in all the time before
he was just mean. Now he was mean and drunk, the violence became
worse than I ever imagined it could be. And so we were barely
getting by again as all the money now went to alcohol. Thank
goodness my work supplied my insurance, at least my baby was taken
care of in that way. Of course it was hard to explain to the people
I worked for why I had to miss a few days of work with a stab
injury, it just was nothing I could admit to...I was 5 1/2 months
pregnant and didn't fix the right meal for dinner, so that was my
punishment, no, just couldn't tell them that.
It was a month after that when my world came to what at the time
I wish had been the end. There was a large air show in town and it
was one of those last fading days of good weather so of course off
we went for the day. Well at 6 1/2 months pregnant with such warm
weather it didn't take long for me to become quite tired and that
was my worst mistake, how I would have walked on for miles if I had
only known.
He became enraged at me for spoiling his day. The beating began
before we ever reached the apartment and once inside I really began
to doubt I would survive, but all I could think of was my baby so I
ran as best I could after all he'd done to me, I'll never know why
I slipped that day, whether it be the blood obscuring my vision
or if it was just fate, but I fell to my knee's giving him enough
time to catch me, hit me a few more times and then I remember him
throwing me down the flight of concrete stairs and then no more
till much later that night.
I guess I should be thankful he drug me back in the house, when I
finally woke up about 2 that next morning thankfully he was asleep.
I had him call in sick for me at work that day and sent him on his
way to work, then I went out to my car, I'd had enough but of
course things are never that easy, when it wouldn't start I lifted
the hood only to find he'd tampered with things so he knew I would
be going no where. Shortly thereafter is when I went into labor. I
finally summoned the courage to call a friend and she took me to
the hospital where my too tiny baby girl was delivered. They did
let me hold my beautiful angel for a while before I had to say my
final good-bye.
Thank goodness for this dear friend I hadn't seen in so very long
she had called my family and I was whisked out of that terrible
place to safety, to begin again.
I wish I could say that it was easy, but these things never are.
He stalked me for a long time, no court order seemed to phase him
in the least, so I took a job that took me totally away from any
one I knew and I obtained a divorce through strict secrecy of my
location. I slowly put my life back together through family and
good friends and have learned to laugh and love again. It was not
easy and I have suffered through some problems since that
awful time...but I finally walk along with hope, a good life now,
good friends and people I love...able to look myself in the mirror
and know...I am worth something, I have survived.
(the poem below I wrote for my little angel)
