This miscarriage was earlier than the


other two, which helped with the pain. I remember riding it out on painkillers I had from the last miscarriage laying in bed thinking, “This is not so bad. It is easier to do this alone than with someone who will not help and causes more problems than relief.” I felt stronger after this. Who miscarries alone? No one. No one unless you are in an abusive


relationship. Then you do everything alone really so it does not seem that unusual. Two months later, I was pregnant with my daughter Olivia. It was bittersweet saying hello to a new baby and saying good bye to a dysfunctional relationship. “If it was so awful, why was it so hard to say goodbye?” The average person may ask. Because you are saying goodbye to financial stability for your two young children, and the known is sometimes better than the unknown. He traveled on the road six months out of the year. When he was home, he was hooked into the TV, not us. So there was a part of me that thought I could hold it all together. Only 24 weeks of the year he was home, surely I could continue to tip toe around the house for these brief weeks and exhale on the other 24? I thought long and hard about this. One day my older daughter is talking, talking, talking and I am not hearing one word she is saying. I am thinking did I pick up our shoes on the floor before we left the house this morning? Did I unload the dishwasher and defrost the chicken for tonight’s dinner?


I was so preoccupied in tracing my


steps whereas not to create an unwanted argument with the abuser that I did not want to listen to my daughter. This was a turning point. Another one was when I realized I was having another girl and I would now be role modeling an unhealthy marriage for not one, but two impressionable innocent daughters. The guilt of this made breathing unreasonable. My daughter was born August 2005 one week before hurricane Katrina. In the hospital I said to her softy, “It’s time to ride little one.” I started packing eight brief weeks later. Two years before I had reluctantly moved to the suburbs as a last ditch effort to save my marriage. My husband exclaimed, “ I will be happy in a home with 2,500 square feet.” I called his bluff and bought a home with 3,000 square feet. He was still not happy. In a moment of clarity we did not sell the house we were living in but kept it as a rental. I have been grateful everyday since that we did this.


PHF Magazine April 2017 9


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