So my last trimester of pregnancy was my most action packed one, in more ways then one. I was on sick leave – as per the doctor’s orders – and was getting a little scared. My blood pressure was rising as well as my little Pixie’s inside of me. But considering what was going on outside of the womb, I guess it was to be expected.
The Moron was in full force the last couple of months of the pregnancy. I can only assume it was the encroaching responsibility of a little person, and the increase of $$ it would mean bringing one into this world. Yep, probably the money thing, sad really that the Moron’s nemesis was some printed paper.
As I was resting – as per doctor’s orders – and of course worrying about the health of my lil Pixie, the Moron was trying to get me to get a job under the table. I wasn’t paying my way, you see.
As I was trying to figure out how to make some money (with all of my muscles in my stomach and abdomen – and some I didn’t know I even had – were in agony) the Moron went into the studio and sold things for super cheap. All of my art and creative musings, “ Five bucks, everything for five bucks” he would tell customers.
As I was selling all my prized possessions, and all that gave me some joy (such as my dirt bike, which he threw in my hand painted helmet for free to the new owner) the Moron said we had to sell my car and go down to one vehicle.
Let me explain that we lived about 30 minutes from the nearest town (population 2500) and about 1 1/2 – 2 hours from the closest “real” town (ie working hospital). Being home alone – let alone with a newborn baby – without a vehicle would be absolutely crazy, not to mention unsafe.
The Moron earned a really good income, but it was considered “HIS” money. Up until this point, I didn’t care about that, being a non-materialistic person that I am. I think he just couldn’t overcome the struggle of being out o control of every situation. And let me tell you – babies will do that to you. You really have no control over them, they have their own way :)
I loved my SUV – and I HAD BOUGHT IT MYSELF, but, I had a small amount left owing on it, and no idea how I could pay that off as the Moron refused to help me, and my maternity would not cover that expense as well as pay for all of the new baby stuff. This is what angered the Moron. And the closer I came to my due date, the more outraged he became. With my savings blown from the bathroom, I had nowhere left to turn, and I started to spiral downwards.
I think as the Moron stepped up the Emotional and Financial Abuse, I felt more and more trapped, and realized that this was no way for a child to be raised. I started to see the light. I think the whole time that this little entity was growing inside of me, my innerself was also growing – growing stronger, growing wiser, growing more authentic. I think the Moron could sense me pulling away, could sense something happening on a level he could not understand. But he had to step it up, as losing was not an option for him. The Moron would joke about killing me in my final month, but salvaging the baby – and I would never get to meet her. He would joke about hiring OJ Simpson’s lawyer to get him off.
The Moron’s depression/anger reached its heightened state when he told me that if I ever left him, he would kill me and take the Pixie away from me forever…
This fear that was instilled in me – is still there. That is something that will never leave you, no matter what is said and done. Some things can never be undone. You can live through them, work through them, but it is always there...