Recently, I was fortunate enough to have time to converse with a wonderful women whose current life mirrors my old one. When I told her my entire story about Kevin, she remarked about how strong I was for staying in a really bad relationship and for my ability to forgive. When I was living it, yes I thought I was strong. I thought that I could forgive and forget and continue in this bad relationship because one day, something good might come out of it. But I wasn’t strong; I was weak. The inability to be alone was and continues to be, unfortunately, my greatest weakness.

Kevin and I went to the Bahamas for my congratulatory post-graduate trip, fourteen days after he cheated for the fourth time and from what I believe the final time. On the last day on the island, while looking at the sunset, I was extremely tense. I wanted to ask him a very important question but I didn’t know how to. Maybe, I didn’t want to know the answer. Maybe, I already knew the answer but was too afraid to bring life to that answer. I don’t know if I even asked him the question. It didn’t matter. I knew our relationship was over. I didn’t love him anymore despite the fact that I wanted to regain that feeling. I would never marry him. I didn’t want to. And he didn’t want me. Period.

I didn’t know how to leave him. I was too afraid to leave. Maybe he was afraid of leaving as well. Again, it’s one of those unanswered questions; now, it doesn’t matter. We were on a nine month course of how to do everything wrong during a break up and we fucked up, big time.

While traveling through South Korea as “friends,” I got pregnant. Did I mention we did break-up? The lower I went on that rabbit-hole of doom, the more shit that just seemed to happened. Whatever I did in a past life was seriously coming back as karma, that and the fact, that I had the inability to take responsibility for my own actions. Kevin would blame me and I would blame him back. We were both victims of each other. I can’t believe now, just how unhealthy we were.

Pregnancies are a true trial period to see if a relationship will make it. Kevin and I were not together and we had just added another WHAT-THE-FUCK!? I won’t bore anyone with the crazy pregnancy talk, my resolution that I would become a mother, the fights, and the death threats because none of it matters anymore. What matters is the bottom of the rabbit hole.

My last few feet down the rabbit hole are hard to described, maybe millennium falcon entering hyper drive BUT in reverse. Everything happened so fast. I was labeled a high risk pregnancy. Every week I was getting poked and prodded like a rare specimen; technically I was. Every damn test, I happened to be that 1% that women are told not to worry about. I found out on Halloween my child was going to die; she was already brain-dead and had developed tumors in her kidneys but her heart was refusing to stop. That night I gave out candy to the local kids. One little girl with special needs ran to my dad hugged him and danced away. I held my shit together because that’s all I know how to do.

But then my travel through hyperspace stopped. My life began to move at a snail’s pace. I waited and waited. And waited for the miscarriage. Nothing happened. Why wouldn’t she just die? Why was my body completely shit? I couldn’t even miscarry properly. And it didn’t. I didn’t. I was put in an uncomfortable position; I would need to have an abortion. I would need to consent to an abortion.

How could I consent? I really was being punished for past deeds. I had to make a decision in my life. Where did I really stand on abortion? Was there a god? Was this decision going to be based on my moral or religious beliefs? Where was my faith? Would I be condemned by my family? I didn’t know what to do so I went to my doctor over and over. I didn’t have hope for her life but I still couldn’t bring myself to kill her.


– Is she still alive?

– Yes.

– I’m not ready. Not yet.


Over and over until I finally just gave in.


– Fine. Whatever. I’ll do it. I’m going crazy. I can’t keep going this way.


And then on November 9th at 7:30 in the morning, my miracle came; there was no decision to be made. She had passed away but still I had not miscarried her body. I would still have to go through the abortion procedure.