Just Around the Corner

When I was young, I remember insisting that I never wanted to marry and never wanted to have children. I didn't want the obligations, the responsibilities, didn't want to answer to anyone but myself. Then it happened... in the midst of a life full of reckless abandon, unwise decisions, and mere stupidity, I learned that I was to become a mother. ME! The one who would rather have cleaned toilet bowls all day than get stuck babysitting. ME! Who wanted to find a friend and just hit the road with nothin' but a backpack and no agenda. I didn't want a kid! I wanted to be free. I was in a relationship with a horrible and cruel boy. I wouldn't even call him a man. He wasn't. He was a nineteen year old who spent most of his time feeding his many addictions and the rest of his time making my life a literal living hell. Looking back now, I am sad and a little ashamed to say that I wished somehow that I would miscarry. I was and still am dead set against abortion, so that was never an option. I would never have been able to cope with adopting my own child to another family. So there it was. My life flipped upside down. I made the enormous mistake of thinking that marriage would in some way alleviate some of the stress. And so I did it. I aborted my previous life plan and married a terrible person for absolutely all the wrong reasons. Life only got much worse from there. Dealing with an abusive relationship is very hard, but dealing with an abusive relationship while you are pregnant, emotional, and sicker than you ever believed you could be, is all the more terrible. I was terrified... terrified to bring a baby into a world where one day I lived in a home, and the next all of my belongings were being thrown out into the driveway because of some crazy schizophrenic paranoid episode. I finally got to the point where I decided it was time to go home. My parents saved my life. They helped me adjust to what would be the biggest event of my existence. I separated from my husband for the time being. Most people spend the first few months just trying to get used to the idea of being pregnant. I spent the first few months just trying to get my bearings around normal people. It's hard to explain to someone who has never been there. I felt socially incapable. I didn't know how to have a normal conversation with a normal person, because I was so used to dealing with insanity. But slowly and surely I adapted. I got a job and began focusing on what I needed to do. I was still going back and forth with my babie's father, but it helped a lot knowing I had a place to live with people who truly and unconditionally loved me. The day arrived for my very first sonogram, so my mom accompanied me to town for the appointment. Being sick doesn't seem to solidify the concept of carrying a child. It just didn't seem real. The doctor called us back and put that cold gooey gel on my belly, and turned the screen so I could watch. My eyes widened and I swear my heart stopped. There it was, sure as the sky is blue: five fingers expanding and contracting as if it were waving hello. From that moment on, everything in me changed. A tiny person was depending on me solely to make sure all was going to be okay. It was like walking down a dark hallway with your hand out in front of you when all of a sudden you feel the wall and almost immediately your eyes come into focus. For the first time I truly understood that I had to plan a life for more than just me. The rest of the pregnancy remained tumultuous still as I struggled with wanting this child to know their father, and not wanting this child to be born and raised into an atmosphere that fostered fear, danger, and instability. After a few months, I made yet another unwise decision and moved back with Joe, the central core of everything bad that kept occuring, but after more fighting and reruns played out, he left, this time I thought for good. Without a moments hesitation, my brother, Todd, came to my rescue. He spent all of his savings he had earned supporting me, job hunting constantly and doing all he could to protect me. He was my best friend. The one who always backed me up, the one who stayed up all night drinking coffee with me at Jerry's picking out my child's name. He and my niece even went with me the day I went in for my doctor's appointment and found out this child was a girl. We whooped and hollered so loudly with excitement that the entire waiting room was giggling when we exited the building. He chose my daughter's first name... Layla. One of the greatest songs of all time. Jobs were tight, and when his savings had dwindled down to nothing, he had to go back to Mesa to get more work. I was sad to see him go. He had already done so much for me... I could never repay him. Time had moved on, and a wonderful amazing man, my uncle-in-law, watched over me. He had been my rock even before I found out I was pregnant. He is one of the kindest, most wonderful people you could ever meet. Time was moving forward, and I continued preparing for my little arrival, my Layla Kai. Then the storm arrived, and Joe showed his face again. I walked on eggshells, sick from stress, smoking two packs of cigarettes a day, just trying to navigate the black hole I had inhabited. About three weeks before I was due, he exploded into yet another angry fit, but this time it was so bad, that his Uncle told us we had to leave. Joe insisted that we would just move into my car. There was absolutely no way I was going to live in my car with a psychotic evil demon of a man, waiting for the birth of my first child. He was enraged and resorted to cussing me out and informing me what a terrible and foolish person I was. He even called my mom to rant and rave about all of my negative characteristics. I was so scared. I didn't want to burden my parents or family when I had brought this on myself. I knew they would never turn their backs on me, but I didn't feel I deserved any more help. Not knowing what else to do, I stayed the night with a niece and her roommates, and the following day, went to the local women's shelter. I spent the first couple of days somewhat hiding in my room, which I was thankful didn't have any other occupants at the time. I wrote and read. My beautiful friend, Connie came and took me out for a movie, Moulin Rouge. Going to the women's shelter was one of the best things I have ever done. I was so amazed to be around people who understood exactly where I had been and where I was now. I finally felt safe enough to turn my attention to my child and daydream a little of the life we would share together. Clothes were donated to the shelter, and since I was the only pregnant occupant, I was able to collect a ton of beautiful little girl's clothes. I would hold up the dresses, admiring them... they were so tiny. I had a false alarm, and my mom and sister Toni made a trip to town. I wanted my sister to be there to coach me through this birth. She lives quite a long distance away, so I was praying that somehow this baby would come before she had to leave. When we were informed that it was not the day, they visited awhile, then went back home. My impatience grew. I skipped, used the exercise machine, anything I could think that would move this along quicker. June 21, 2001. 6:00am. My water broke. My favorite of the ladies that worked at the shelter was just about to go off shift, but upon this news, she ushered me into the car and shuttled me quickly to the hospital. My family arrived, my friend Connie thankfully was still in town. It was a long day. I wanted Joe there. Even though I knew in my heart that his affection would not be sincere, I needed it to get me through this. I did not want to have my first child with no father. Childbirth was the hardest thing I have ever done. I didn't know enough about medications to request anything particular, and whatever they put in my IV did nothing but make me a loopy. But at 5:19 that evening, when they handed me my little angel and I looked into her dark curious eyes, my heart exploded with more love and adoration than I ever would have thought possible! This was my baby girl, my angel, my little hero that had helped me live through one of the most difficult and darkest parts of my life. And I knew we would make it somehow. Joe threatened suicide if I didn't take him back to New Mexico with me. He had tried it before, so it was a real possibility, and although I knew it was more likely just a manipulative threat, I agreed. I didn't want the guilt of someone's death on my head. So we moved back in with my parents. It wasn't as bad as it had been in Arizona because he knew that my parents would be more than willing to kick him to the curb had he started anything in their home. It lasted a month. I had started working at my parents' restaurant, attempting to build a decent life for my little family. My confidence had begun to bloom as I watched my daughter grow. There was nothing exceptional or different about this day, other than the fact that it was Joe's birthday. I remember this only because my mom had taken painstaking preperation to make it nice, baking his favorite cake and such. We were sitting outside just talking. He had gone back to Arizona to visit the previous week, and was supposed to be starting a job soon. He was always "supposed to be starting a job soon". This was the norm, but he always had an excuse. When I asked why he wasn't going to be starting the day he had planned, he informed me that he had indulged his addictions once more while visiting his buddies the past week. I don't know why I decided, or what made me ready to make the change. Before I knew what I was saying, I spouted out that I was finished. Things would never change if we were together. It was something I had known all along, but could never just accept until I felt I had done everything I could possibly do to make our family work. As if in confirmation that I was on the right track, I looked up and there was a double rainbow in the sky, a sign of hope, a sign of better things to come. The following day, I loaded his things in the car, got the baby buckled and ready to go. The drive there was tense, but I didn't care, because I knew it wouldn't last. When you drive over the mountain, the scenery is breath-taking, and we stopped at the top to smoke our cigarettes. I wouldn't allow smoking in the car. I walked directly to a beautiful bush that blossomed with flowers, picked a small bunch, and tucked it into the little leather pouch hanging from my rearview mirror. These were my freedom flowers, a symbol of the future that now looked bright for me and my Layla Kai. We drove the rest of the way, and as I left him standing in his mother's kitchen, I felt a wave of relief and joy wash over me. I knew this was what I needed to do. His sarcastic comment as I left just rolled off my back. I climbed back into my car, took one look at the angelic face looking peacefully up at me through dark thick lashes, and smiled. As I drove off, dust kicking up behind me, I was rejunivated, overjoyed, and at peace. I could now look forward to what lie just around the corner.