Sitting on the end of the blue leather sofa, pregnant; he did not come for the third night. “I cannot do this anymore. I am moving out.”
Pains so bad in her stomach and abdomen area from stress and verbal abuse from him, he smiles and laughs at me. “Where are you going to go? Home? You will never make it there!” It is 8:30 am on a workday.
Many sick days taken due to stress on her and the baby; she is far along in her second trimester, yet he is absent, immersed in his own perplexities of other women, other homes, other arms of comfort.
The lifetime movie words of finding out she was pregnant went something like this, “Is it mine?” She knew then she would be a single parent as she told the lady that was doing the sonogram, “It is with the wrong man.” Weeping for three hours, not able to comprehend how she will survive this, she was elated and confused all at the same time.
“Yes, I am going back home to raise the baby. I am leaving next week.” Sitting by the door because she is so uncomfortable, she is asked in a violent way to move and get out of his way.
She, needing time to get up from the floor, took a bit longer than anticipated, demanding they have this conversation right now. He, being hesitant, yelling at her, decides to take matters into his own hands literally that brisk cold morning on the fourth floor of the building.
He takes the door and slams the front door seven times repeatedly on her lower back area, locks of hair getting caught in his keys as he is pulling them from her hands, she is abused while carrying his child.
Weeping and slouched over, she climbs into bed, calls her doctor as he slams the door. She locks the door behind her and triple locks the front door as well. Cell phone under her pillow, she is terrified, she talks to her baby girl in the womb, “I am so sorry.
We have to leave. This is not safe anymore. She remains Fatherless until this day, never knowing the arms of a Father, the embrace of a man, who brought her into this world; a Mother’s journey of both roles begins that one life-altering day, the brisk day in December, when she, said goodbye forever to an abuser of a Mother and an unborn child.
In the name of my gender Meg, I apologise for the Neanderthal brutes that still inhabit this world.
The trouble with your story is that it is being repeated daily across the planet by male scumbags who see absolutely nothing wrong with abuse, be it physical or emotional.
Now if it were possible for men to get pregnant, well…
So many children grow up with one parent, although we see a situation like you being abused etc., an on going occurance and the mothers reject going to a safe home, they continue to run alone and go from house to house living with people, and then leaving, this I don’t agree with … I think a single mom can love and take care of her child without a problem in these days, Many moms unfortunately, loss there spouse from death, etc. and women learn to raise a child alone. The emotional scars wilt away like a flower and become a memory and sometimes it is good to right about them, get them off the heart. To meet someone, go to places like the Library, town meetings, where single men are usually not those kind you have talked about. Become involved in organizations where men, single will admire your work, and both will have something in common.. I could continue but you get what I am saying. Sincerely, Nancy HUGS