My plan went into overdrive, and I made sure I tried almost everyday to get pregnant. . This went on for three months, by now I should be nearly five months pregnant. My secret was becoming harder to hide. But I made sure tired or not, I would have sex everyday for the whole month so I would not miss the right time. I know D was happy.
I actually hated the intimacy with men because it always brought me back to the abuse. Kissing was just as harder, as I would literally feel sick and wretch whenever he tried. I also felt suffocated with his weight.
Despite this, I had no respect for myself as I had grown up knowing men only ever wanted one thing from me. I also knew if I refused they would take it anyway. It was hard to believe D was different, so there was never an enjoyment in it for me. I always blanked out my mind and hoped he would do his business quickly. I honestly also believed, pregnancy with D would be the beginning of the end. I was desperate.
The next month there were no bright red blood cells. I had succeeded, I was pregnant. A woman could get pregnant twice after all.
As the months went by, his family constantly asked where the belly was? They constantly made fun, and made horrid comments towards me. But I didn’t care. I wanted to belong and I thought the baby, his first child, would make the family like me. I recall one day I was invited to dinner, I thought this was unusual, they didn’t like me, but we went. I ate well, I recall the food was like no other.
After dinner the family called me into another room, while D went off with other family members. There in the midst was another pregnant woman , a family member, she was six months pregnant. There was the mum and also two sisters present. The family went into attack, not physically but emotionally. They accused me of trapping their brother, they accused me of not being pregnant all sort of obscenities. I stood there and took the ridicule. I didn’t defend myself, because I couldn’t defend myself. After all they were right and I knew the truth. I stood there while they all sat down hurling abuse. I will never cry, I thought. I wish I could tell them, “can you not see my pain” I thought. I wanted them more than they wanted me. my new word was. Humiliated.
I stood up the whole time with my back against the wall.
But again, something else affected me even more. During all the ridicules and taunts. One thing stuck out. They were a family, something I desperately wanted. For me that was the worse part, of my humiliation. I desperately wanted someone to fight for me. I found myself day dreaming, while they talked, of a life where I was not the one standing against the wall, but the one in the family.
The situation became worse when the family member had her child, I was still pregnant. Worse she had her first boy, which brought even more attention to me. my re-occurring word at this time was shame Our baby just couldn’t be born. I still hates than three months to go. The rumours were thick and fast. The family were continually saying it was not his. That didn’t bother me as I knew that it was. I continued ignored the rumors.
Surprisingly, D ignored the rumors too. I think he also knew but I believe he wanted to be with me and his new family.
I knew I was being selfish but after so long being abused. Why couldn’t I have a family in this country? After all, I had spent my entire life so far on my own. This was no longer about Ds feelings or his family. Although, I knew they didn’t like me, for me and my babies this was about survival.