by WC Child
Our connection that night was unlike anything I had experienced with him before. We remained engulfed in the splendor of our reunion for hours. We lay there cuddled in contentment and inhaled the aroma of our union. The violent events of the past quickly faded from my memory. I knew without a doubt the man laying here with me now could have never meant to hurt me. We forgave each other for the misunderstanding and vowed to only lay loving hands on each other. The spiritual and physical reconciliation been was the elixir we used to get back on track. After that night, our connection would be stronger than ever. Maybe Ben was right. I could have been too demanding and aggressive because I was feeling insecure. He had just shown me how much he cared for me and that was all that really mattered.
The return to normalcy occurred quicker than I anticipated as we fell back into a comfortable routine. We enjoyed each other more frequently and passionately than ever before. We never wanted to be away from each other. It felt like we had known each other for years, even though I had met him only a few months ago. If this was any indication of what was to come, I was so glad I took Big Mama’s advice about finding love again. I wanted what my daddy and mother had. I was certain I had found that rare connection with Ben. He appeared to be the answer to my dreams.
Chapter 43
True Blue
I knew immediately what that feeling was, but for weeks I had been too afraid to express it to the universe. The thin blue colored line was striking against the vast white surface. I was filled with a joy that could no longer be suppressed. I gently rubbed my mid-section in anticipation of what was to come. I would have another chance to be a mother. Finally, I would know what it would be like to have someone love me just because. That’s what I missed out on with the interruption of my last maternal experience. It would feel good to be wanted, not just for my looks or the curves bestowed on me by Mother Nature or the coveted crevices that became the obsession of the male species, but just for me. All the love that I would have for them would be more than enough. I would be beautiful to them and needed by them and oh how I would love my little bundle of joy. I would finally be complete and would have what I wanted for a long time; a family.
I had often wondered if this day would ever come again and questioned myself as a woman. All life forms have the capacity to reproduce, but not me. Why couldn’t I do it? It was the most natural thing in the world for the female species. People are considered the highest form of being, other than the Almighty, but my performance in this area had been inferior to that of mere animals. It really didn’t take much effort and I clearly understood the biology of the act. I questioned why my womb was treated like the child ren of Israel during the original Passover. I hadn’t had trouble conceiving. My challenge had been with maintaining the pregnancy. Without a child, I considered myself a failure as a woman.
For the better part of my life my mind told me that my first maternal experience didn't count. I had grown weary of being less than honest about the number of pregnancies I experienced with zero live births recorded. I always subtracted one. The nature of its origin had been too painful and I disavowed its existence. I paid dearly for that experience. The midwife had been ill equipped to provide the post traumatic care my barely pubescent womb required. Consequently, the lack of proper care contributed to my inability to carry a baby to term. But all of that was about to change. I knew nothing in life was certain, but I really felt this pregnancy would be a success. This would not be like the other time that ended in disappointment and grief when I was informed that the insensitive natural selection process had claimed my joy. I didn’t know how many more chances I would get at motherhood. Three had to be my magic number for this victory.
Those frustrations had been part of my past and now I was looking forward to a future with my new man. We had shared many details about our past, but he knew nothing about the unyielding psychological struggles I concealed related to completing the woman-identifying task of giving birth. Most external scars show the manifestation of the healing process. It's the internal ones that take the longest time to heal and seem to never fade away. I had been scarred for life. The only way I could escape the disappointments associated with my past was to start fresh and see where these new beginnings would lead.
Having voiced similar opinions and desires about having a family, I was confident Ben would be as excited as I was about our possibilities. Big Mama said I should live again and that is exactly what I intended to do. I had moved on, not just figuratively, but physically. I was filled with hope and the positive energy that came along with loving life again. Adding the new baby would make me complete. I would have what my mother and daddy had and we would be just as happy as they were. All I had ever wanted was my family back and if I couldn’t have it one way, I would have it another.
The night of my big announcement arrived and I couldn’t wait to share the good news. I had been holding in my secret for over a month. I thought I would explode if I didn’t tell him about the product of our union. I felt like the child who had peeked at the Christmas presents and had to conceal the deception until the gifts were finally opened. Because something of this magnitude deserved special treatment, I had planned a night as special as the one he had created for me. Everything related to this celebration of new beginnings had to be perfect.
When he first arrived and noticed a meal consisting of his favorite foods was being prepared, he couldn’t conceal his appreciation for my efforts. After looking around the room as if he were searching for something, he asked if my mother was there too. We both laughed and shared a moment of lightness. We settled into the ritualistic exercise of filling in the gaps of time since we were last together as I put the finishing touches on our meal. Throughout the evening, I was bubbling with excitement and couldn't wait to behold his reaction to the announcement of our hopes and my dreams. I was anxious for the preliminary portion of the night to be over so that we could move to the true purpose of my extra special treatment. The night had been filled with all his favorite things. I hoped my announcement would be the item he cherished the most.
When the word pregnant tumbled from my lips, the color drained from his face, his eyes became the size of saucers, and the prolonged coughing nearly warranted the Heimlich maneuver. After gaining his composure his body language suggested displeasure with my revelation. He fought to find the right words to convey the thoughts that quickly cycled through his mind. He became closed off and protective of his true feelings. The emotional distance staked its claim in the center of our conversation. The scenario I conjured up in my mind did not mirror the outcome. My joy became his pain.
Chapter 44
Ultimatum
The news of our bundle had not contained the joy I anticipated. Ben spoke his disappointment in disgust and asked, “How could you have done something as stupid as getting pregnant? What’s wrong with you?” He nervously paced the floor wringing his hands, and then he said, “How hard is it to avoid a pregnancy? It’s as simple as taking a pill. How could you screw that up?”
He didn’t hesitate before he delivered the most heartless statement of all.
“If you are thinking of keeping this baby, you will not have my support. Right now, you need to let me know when you are going to take care of this problem. If you keep it, you will lose me. It’s that simple.”
His words cut through me like hot lead. I must have heard something wrong because I knew Ben didn’t just ask me to abandon my chance to complete a mission that had been impossible up until now. My decision had been made long before I met him. I didn't need him to approve any choices I made about my body. Any chance of fulfilling the longing that festered inside me would be given full access to the possibility of success. He was aware of my past challenges with motherhood and had expressed loving concern regarding my plight. Without question, he should have already known that ultimatum was pointless.
Ben continued to berate me about being pregnant. He reacted as if I ruined his life. I w
asn’t prepared for the harshness. I wanted one reaction; I got the opposite. After all, it was my baby too. My opinion had to count for something. Ben was very active and present for the conception, but he considered my familial status as my individual failure. He appeared unconcerned about my feelings. All that mattered was what he wanted. There was no “we”, it was “him” and his needs, then “me” fulfilling his needs. I didn’t see where my needs fit into his happiness equation.
Timidity replaced my once bold posture after being emotionally battered by the intermittent rants and his accusatory looks. Out of necessity, I retreated, as I once did, into my protective cocoon. The absence of his desire for a child and my misinterpretation of his familial aspirations settled into my spirit. All I could do was apologize for disappointing him as I fought the sadness that crept into my heart. My tears could no longer be contained as I began to understand the enormity of my pending decision. But those tears meant nothing to him. He left me standing in the hallway weeping and confused. He announced that I wasn’t the woman he thought I was and he needed time to think. I needed time to think, too. I wanted the time and space to figure out how a night that was meant to be so special ended up being an emotional catastrophe.
Things didn’t look better when morning overtook night. I lay there still distressed about Ben’s reaction to our pregnancy. I spent a restless night searching for answers. I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t the least bit accepting of this pregnancy. After the initial shock of the announcement wore off, I was confident he would come around to the idea of being a father. Calm would replace anxiety and eventually, he would be happy about this gift. Why wouldn’t he be? He said he wanted kids. Now that it was within reach, he was undermining at our happiness. What had I missed?
Maybe the stress and the sudden change to our relationship caused him to balk at the news. The first time I made this same announcement to an unprepared father, his reaction had been one of disbelief as well. Eventually Adam warmed up to the expectant father role and celebrated our creation. After he got use to the idea of being a father, I was certain Ben’s attitude would change. But what if acceptance never came? What then? Did he truly understand the sacrifice he was asking me to make?
I didn’t know how I would be able to live with myself if I heeded his desires. I would lose more than he could begin to comprehend if I did what he asked. At that juncture in my life, I needed a win in the baby column. I didn’t have the strength or mental fortitude to withstand another loss. This time, I had to put myself first. He would have to decide if he wanted to continue with me on my journey to motherhood. That was the only path I was ready and willing to take. If he wanted to go in the opposite direction, I would not impede his path, but he would not dictate mine.
Chapter 45
Mother Knows Best
I was still reeling from Ben’s ultimatum. The more my mind lingered on the subject of my pregnancy, the more I desired guidance about my impending decisions. I never imagined such diametrically opposed stances would exist between two people who had professed similar desires. Normally, things of such magnitude were discussed with Big Mama, but she was in heaven. I had to lean on my mother for the necessary love and support. We had made so much progress rebuilding our relationship and I needed to talk to someone who would understand my desperate need to have a family. Since coming back into each other’s lives, we had gotten more comfortable with our relationship as adults and I was beginning to trust her again.
My mother was happy to hear from me and we agreed to meet for lunch later that day. True to our words, we had not let the frustrations expressed during the previous culinary event tear down what we had built up. But in all honesty, those words, even though they were harsh, needed to be spoken so the slate of my anger could be wiped clean. We both understood that freeing my suppressed resentment was the only way we could continue to move forward.
Notwithstanding her feelings about my romantic choice, our severed bond was being restored. We both were enjoying the structured reclamation process. I was anxious to talk to my mother about challenges However, I was unsettled about the amount of information I would share about my new relationship. I didn’t want to hear the disappointment in her voice or see the pain in her eyes. After Ben assaulted me, I avoided face-to-face contact with my mother until all physical evidence of his battering had faded away. It would not have been worth the risk to any of us to disclose information about a problem that had already been resolved. The last time someone harmed me physically, her actions toward him were unmerciful. I couldn't fathom the additional skills she had picked up during her years of incarceration. I would hate for her to go away again because of me.
This new dilemma I faced could not be remedied by the simple passage of time. Unlike the handprint that had lingered on my face, a protruding belly could not be covered up with make-up or explained away as an inadvertent connection with the proverbial door. No matter what decision I made, the residual effects would continue to have an impact on many lives. Ben’s obligatory solution was unacceptable. If he wanted a way out, it was there. I would be more than willing to allow him to walk away, but I could not abandon this gift.
Although I was steadfast about my decision, I wanted to seek advice and validation from my mother about the weighty consequences I faced. I was nervous about disclosing my impending status change. It would drastically change both of our lives. I wondered how she would react when I gave her the news that I would be a mother and she would be a grandmother. Even though she did not like the mate I had chosen, I hoped she would understand my decision to move forward with the pregnancy, with or without Adam’s support.
The love and understanding that she showed me during my revelation was what I needed most. The squeals of joy reminded me of my youthful days when the secrets I shared with my childhood friends were stowed away from the world. I had to reign her in as she started making plans for a baby shower and recommending names. Her excitement had been what I so desperately desired from Ben. The loving embrace and genuine bliss warmed my heart and lifted my spirits. No judgement, just a mother's love. I felt it, and it felt so good.
For a moment, I felt like the small child she comforted thru the sadness and confusion that took root in our lives after my father passed. In her arms, I felt at home as the years filled with hurts, anger and misconceptions thawed in her embrace. She was still the mother I needed her to be. I was happy she was in my life again. Thank God for Big Mama, who became the placeholder for my mother until we were able to find each other again. She kept my heart intact and ready for our reunion, regardless of how hard I fought against her. I don't know where in the world I would have been without both of those women being so prominent in my life.
Chapter 46
Bridges
After returning home from our outing, I was truly happy about the way my life was taking shape. My mother was happy for me and that pleased me more than I had expected. She had validated my concerns and stood firmly behind my decision. I was still the little girl who wanted to make her mother proud and she had commended me on my strength of character and true dedication to my parental desires.
Each time we were together and I gained insight from her perspective about our time apart, I admired her more. I marveled at her ability to survive those years when the gaps created by distance and time were exploited. On one visit, she showed me faded articles and photos from times I had forgotten, but had brought joy to her soul during her incarceration. She felt she could have endured anything as long as she knew I was no longer in danger. Among those photos were the ones we took at the photo booth. During my youth, I had considered those photos some of my most prized possessions. I often wondered how they had escaped from my treasure chest. The photos showed how happy and connected we had been that day. At that time, we had been recovering from a long separation and they represented the release of relational stress and forward movement toward normalcy. The irony of this moment could not be overlooked and we made p
lans to find a photo booth to memorialize the parallel stages of our lives.
To my surprise, she showed me pictures and programs from both of my graduations. Her face and posture showed nothing but pride as she spoke of how she witnessed my accomplishing a milestone that she and my father had desired for me. She had sat through the commencement ceremonies and cried tears of sorrow for not being able to congratulate me in person. I realized that even though I had rejected her, she had been content to exist in the shadows of my life until I was ready to forgive her. It was overwhelming to realize how much she had continued to sacrifice for me.
I noticed my mother staring intently at my neck and out of curiosity, asked if something was wrong. I was wearing a necklace that Big Mama had given me. Since she had passed, it had become one of my most prized possessions. She had not given me full custody of this trinket until I was eighteen. She feared that my irresponsible actions would result in an inadvertent windfall for someone else. Big Mama had called it a family heirloom and had told me to cherish the family members who had provided such a history-filled gift for me.
It shocked me when my mother described the inscription on the back side of the locket and proceeded to tell me the history surrounding my gift. My mother had given this locket to my Big Mama before she had gone to prison. In my youth, Big Mama had only allowed it to be worn on special occasions. I did not realize that each time I had proudly worn it, I had carried around a piece of my mother with me. She had been just a jewelry chest away during some of the best and worst times of my life. She had been with me, even during those times when I had doubted the depth of her love.