The next four weeks were a blur. I’d spend them cheating on her with him, or alone because she was too drunk to function. She would tell me she loved me and how happy she was, and then she’d leave again all night. Her lies became my truths. She told me she would be there through my miscarriage and that I wouldn’t be alone. But I knew she had already moved on with HER again. She was just telling me what I wanted to hear to make herself feel better. I was just occupying her nights until she could be with that woman again. I was so lost in sadness that spent most of my days with him. The month was spent filling an unfillable void in my heart. Numbing the pain I felt anyway I could and convincing myself that she still loved me. I was at work when it happened. A physical pain I had never felt before. I ended up leaving early thinking it was just cramps and I needed to just lay down. I made it to his house and asked him if I could just lay with him until the pain subsided. He said yes and I laid there trying not to think about how the pain was getting worse not better. A half hour later he was rushing me to the emergency room because I couldn’t stand up I was in so much pain. I called my parents who happened to be in town and told them I was going to the hospital. I didn’t tell them what for because I hadn’t even told my family I was pregnant.
I got out of the car once we reached the emergency room doors and ran to the counter. As soon as I got there my whole body collapsed from pain and the woman behind the counter started screaming. “Oh my god!! Someone help!!” She screamed out a code I don’t remember and 10 people came rushing towards me. I was shaking so much I looked like I was having seizures and I was crying uncontrollably. It was the worst physical pain I had ever felt in my entire life.
He ran in minutes later and followed the rushing group of doctors and nurses to my room. They started hooking me up to pain killer and asking me what was wrong. “I’m having a miscarriage.” It was the only thing I could get out between sobs and convulsions.
Shortly after I was hooked up my parents walked into my room and my mom rushed over to my bed. “Oh my god! Love!! Are you ok?? What’s wrong?? What’s going on?? She’s in pain!!! Can’t someone do something!?!?” “Ma’am she’s maxed out on every pain killer we can give her. There’s nothing more we can do. She’s having a miscarriage.” They tried to hide their looks of complete shock and disappointment. I could tell the worry overshadowed anything else. “I feel like I have to push. I have to push. Is this normal??” I was screaming at the doctors. “Please make this stop!!! It hurts!!” “You’re gonna have to push ma’am. Just push when you feel it!”
I remember pushing and pushing. I remember pushing for what seemed like hours. Crying, pushing, screaming, and asking my parents if I could call her. She was supposed to be there. When we finally got a hold of her she was drunk and in San Francisco. She was crying and telling me how sorry she was, that she should be there with me, and that she loved me. Ten hours after being admitted to the hospital I finally had them. The worst part was I had to go to the bathroom right before I had them, and ended up having to push while I was in there. I heard two loud plopping noises and I looked at my mom and sobbed, “please don’t tell me that’s them in there. Please.” She got a doctor and sure enough, there they were. I just cried. By this time he had left and I was just with my parents who had called my cousin to see if we could stay with her. I was so loaded with drugs that I kept dry heaving and crying.
I had lost them. And that day I had lost her. I felt like I had lost everything. In a matter of months my two precious little dogs had been killed, I lost a job that I loved, I had found out I was pregnant, found out that the babies hearts stopped beating, and then pushed them out of me in a bathroom toilet. I was numb. Every emotion I ever had was gone. There was nothing inside of me. No feeling, no person, nothing. Empty couldn’t even begin to describe the shell I had become. A week later i showed up at her house after we had spent a night together and she disappeared that next morning leaving me a voicemail that said she didn’t love me anymore and that she was done. I stood outside arguing with her and begging her not to go. The next thing I knew I had swallowed a bottle of lithium with a half a bottle of jack Daniels and she was calling 911.
When it happened I wasn’t scared or even relieved. I just, was. I remember taking them and thinking “oh shit. Well, whatever happens happens.” I wasn’t hoping to live or die. I was just hoping that the pain I felt inside was finally going to be over. No matter which way it went. I remember closing my eyes and being driven to the hospital in an ambulance. “Ma’am. Can you hear us? You’ve just overdosed and we are taking you to the hospital. Do you know what you took?” I just laid there, eyes closed, wondering what it was gonna be like when I died. I felt, content. In that moment I didn’t feel happy or sad or scared or mad or anything. I just felt nothing. Not empty, but just nothing. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen. And I was ok with that.