Birth Story: Illinois
Submitted to Abort73 by a 55-year-old woman on September 12, 2013.
I was 19 years old and in the Navy when I married my first husband. Five months later, I became pregnant. By that time I was in a military hospital psyche ward. My marriage was so unstable, and I was so depressed. I had tried to take my life.
My husband was an extremely immature drinking, fighting, pot-smoking, drug-using party boy who could not get a job, or keep one for more than a week or two. He'd spend all our money faster than I could earn it. He was also a "mama's boy," unable to cut the apron strings, though at the time we lived far away from her.
After I got out of the military, we moved in with his mother while my husband floundered around looking for short term construction labor jobs or pizza delivery. There was so much stress; we fought practically every day. There was also plenty of physical violence. I'd often cover up my fat lips, bruises and bloody noses so that his mum would not see.
She became so exasperated with our situation that she threatened to force me to get an abortion! I was horrified at the thought, but felt little power to resist her. Finally, she coerced my husband back into active duty military, so at least I would have medical attention.
Our son was born, and he was the joy of both our families. Sadly, our marital problems continued and after a particularly brutal beating, I ran from our home thinking I would come back and get my four-year-old son as soon as I could get on my feet.
Within weeks my husband, at the insistence and with the "help" of his mother, won permanent custody!
I met another man who promised to help me get my son back. Before I knew it, we too were married. This man was far worse than the first! At least my first husband had some conscience, and I did love him.
But this man was a pure narcissist. He saw himself and everything he did as good. He deemed himself my savior, and me as a whacko problem that needed to be brought into submission. He justified all his behavior, and twisted everything I did. He was a compulsive gambler, a womanizer and so many other things, but worst of all, again, a batterer!
When my father died, I finally had enough. I wanted out. I started to plan. I got a job, and tried to save some money so I could leave him. He had other plans and one day, during a particularly awful fight, he raped me.
I knew right away that I was pregnant. I never felt so trapped in all my life. I had little ability to care for myself and felt so hopeless about my other son. I also felt that no one would ever understand; how can a husband rape his wife?
Having just lost my dad, I became very sick. I was bulimic, and found that my only relief was making myself throw up. From the first time I tried it, I almost instantly began making myself throw up virtually everything I ate!
It was as if the only thing I could control in my sad little world was what went into and came out of my body!
It's not that I did not want my baby, I didn't want my husband. I was dead certain I could not care for myself, let alone a baby. Even if I were to stay in the marriage, I'd be completely alone emotionally.
One day, I walked across the street, to a place that I thought did abortions. I was just so desperate for help. I walked into the waiting room. It was an old house, that had been converted into a office. No one was in there, and it felt so creepy. I got real scared and walked right out again! No matter what I could not kill my baby!
By this time, I'd lost so much weight, my nurse midwife and my OB were befuddled at what to do. Finally, I confessed to her what was gong on with the bulimia. Again, I was put into a psych ward for the last two months of my pregnancy! My son was born, and thank God, we were both healthy.
That marriage too eventually crumbled, and my sons and I both had a lot of hardships, but we also had each other.
My oldest son died in a car wreck three years ago. He was 30 years old! I thank God everyday for the lives of both my sons. Even in my "crazy" state, I knew enough to hang on to hope and give them both a chance at life. Of course, I wish things had been better and more stable for them. But there were often such joys I can not recount it all.
Whenever I look back, even with all the hardships, I would not change what I did. I am just so thankful for the time God has given me with them both, and for the hope that I have for the one who is still with me. I can not imagine how empty life would have been, had I taken the easy route and aborted either one.
Date: September 12, 2013