I was getting bigger and bigger everyday. She would come home and kiss my belly first, and then kiss me. “I love you sweetheart.” She would make me dinner and be there when I couldn’t get out of bed because I felt so sick. We were becoming a little family and my heart felt like it was slowly putting itself back together.
He was still calling me and texting me, and out of fear of losing him, in case I lost her, I had told him he was the father of the baby I was carrying. I was pushing him away, but at the same time pulling him whenever I started to feel like she was shutting down or it felt like she might not want this after all. I kept him on a very long retractable line. The thought of losing her and ending up alone again was too much for me, so I made sure I had a backup plan. I just didn’t want to feel that pain again, so I transferred it to him instead.
As the months went by, nothing really changed. She was working nights at a bar and not coming home until the next morning. We had moved into another apartment closer to downtown and we were living with a friend of hers. I had my daughter again, trying once again to prove I was a good mom. Everything was still off. She wouldn’t tell me she loved me, wouldn’t hold me at night, we weren’t even having sex. And yet I was still desperately trying to get her to love me. To show me she loved me. What the hell was wrong with me? Was I too skinny for her? Not attractive anymore? Was she just using me so she wouldn’t feel alone? I was emotionally and physically drained but I kept holding on.
It was about the beginning of August and I had finally landed another job working for a veterinary clinic in town. My first day was on the 5th and she told me she would watch our daughter for me so I could make it, but she also told me she was going to Carson with her mom the day before and she would be back later that same night to watch our little girl the next morning. I knew something was wrong. She never goes to Carson. She had been hiding her phone, working later and later and I knew something was wrong. This time I chose not to believe her. “Why are you going to Carson with your mom?” I became everything I never thought I’d be. Jealous, and insecure. Going through her phone whenever I could, because I just didn’t believe her that she wasn’t lying about SOMETHING.
The next day she left early for Carson. She didn’t want to take her car because she didn’t think she would make it. She begged me to let her use mine, and against my better judgement, I did. I kept calling her every hour to check up on her. She was getting annoyed and angry. “You have to stop calling me. This is getting ridiculous. Stop being so jealous and insecure.” I knew she was lying. Somewhere deep down inside of me I knew she was seeing HER again.
I convinced him to come pick me up and take me by her moms house. I had to see if her moms car was there because she had told me she was meeting her mom up there. We drove by and my heart sank. It was the same feeling I’d gotten the first time she looked me in the eyes and lied to me. There was her moms car. Sitting in the driveway. I immediately called her. “Hey! Did you meet your mom?” “Yes love. I’ve been here for a few hours. We are just barbecuing with my uncle. My moms pretty drunk already.” Just lie after lie after lie. It was like the truth to her. She lied so much she would yell at me and tell me how stupid I was being. She defended herself to the absolute death. And she would continue to do so, even when she never came home that night and I had to call her two hours before I was supposed to be at work to find out where she was. I knew. I knew what she was doing, but I chose to believe her when she told me I was stupid and insecure. She knew what to say and how to say it to make you really believe you were losing your mind and she was completely innocent. It wouldn’t be for another year that she would finally admit what she had done. She had begged me to use my car to drive two hours away to see her, sleep with her all night long and then turn it around on me.
I chose to just ignore every feeling I had in my body. She loved me. I was wrong. I was the one who left her first two years ago so I’m the one who deserved to be treated like garbage. I had to prove to her that I wasnt that person anymore. Prove to her that I had changed and she could trust me. The last three years of our lives were all my fault and she had every reason and right to be angry with me and treat me the way she did, and I deserved to cry myself to sleep every night. I deserved to fall asleep without her and wake up without her. I was the one with kids and obligations, not her. It wasn’t fair to expect anything more from her. We were together weren’t we? Isn’t that really all that mattered? I let her tear me down piece by piece because she had made me believe that I deserved it. I deserved to be cheated on. I deserved to be lied to. I deserved it because I had hurt her first so many years ago. And hadn’t I cheated on her with him?
But I was about to have our baby. This baby would save us. She had been wanting a baby for a couple of years and it had been something we had been talking about over the last year or so. Maybe it was meant to be the way it came about.
I went in for my first day of work, late, but I made it. I also had a doctor appointment scheduled that same day. She was going to meet me there so we could see how big our baby was getting. I was about 15 1/2 weeks along and we were getting more and more excited.
Waiting in the lobby seemed to take forever. They did the usual checkups and then we had our ultrasound. I was laying there talking with her and laughing. “I’m just going to go get the doctor. I’ll be right back.” The ultrasound technician sounded worried, but I didn’t think anything of it. The doctor came in about 5 minutes later. He sat down at the ultrasound machine checking everything for what seemed like forever. “Is something wrong?” I finally asked. She had stopped holding my hand and just kept staring at the doctor. He told me I should get dressed and he would be back in in about 5 minutes. I hurried to get dressed and sat anxiously on the table wondering why in the world everyone was being so weird.
“I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but, your babies hearts have stopped beating. We couldn’t find a heartbeat and your HCG levels have declined significantly since the last time you were in.” “Wait. What? No. I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me. What’s going on?” I could feel myself breathing heavily and the anxiety take over. I started shaking and trying to hold back tears. “What exactly are you saying?”
“I’m so sorry. But you’re going to miscarry. We can do this one of three ways..” he just kept talking like it was a normal day. Like I was getting my teeth pulled. I just stared at him. I couldn’t even cry. I couldn’t digest anything he was saying to me. I couldn’t process it. I just stood up, thanked him, and walked out of the clinic. As soon as I hit the sidewalk I crumbled. I started crying and thinking to myself that this couldn’t be real. Both of them?? Both of them? There’s no way. These are our babies. We lost both of our babies?? I looked at her thinking she was just as upset as I was, and she looked at me and said “I’m sorry you lost your babies love. That sucks. Ready to go home?”
I couldn’t even feel sad anymore. Now they were just my babies. Not ours. And I knew right then she would leave again. I didn’t know when, but I knew it was only a matter of time. She was only with me because she felt sorry for me, and she felt guilty to leave a pregnant woman alone. She just stood there with such a huge look of relief, and I couldn’t even be sad because I cared more about what she was going to do than the fact that I was about to lose both of my babies soon.