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I was such a fool.
During one of those times when I was busy forgiving him and we were making up, we got careless. We weren’t paying attention, and I was so madly in love with Adam that I didn’t care if I did or didn’t get pregnant. I knew Adam would always be there for me. We had plans.
When our carelessness actually got me pregnant, I was excited. I knew we could do this together. Our plans might have changed slightly, but we could do everything we planned still. We had just finished college, and I had started my shop as Adam had started law school.
Having a baby would change things, of course, but we loved each other, and we were going to conquer the world together.
I couldn’t wait to tell him about the baby, but his reaction that night was the complete opposite of what I could have imagined. We fought. A lot. Both accusing the other of sabotaging our carefully laid plans. Sabotaging our future.
I cried a lot. Adam kept telling me that this baby was the worst thing that could have happened to him. He said he didn’t want it. Then he said he didn’t want me, and walked away, leaving me crying on my front porch all alone.
But, the next day, as in true Adam fashion, he showed up and apologized and then told me he was just shocked and scared. And I took him back as I always did.
We went to the doctor together; we went to have the ultrasound done; and we adjusted our plans a bit to include our baby. Until one night, I overheard him on the phone with his best friend Rob talking about how he was sleeping with some girl from law school and how hot and adventurous she was in bed.
I lost it, demanding he immediately change his ways, or he wouldn’t be a father to our child. We fought like we had never fought before. I was so hurt and hormonal that every time he tried to apologize for hurting me; I kept telling him we were through. Then he told me I was being unreasonable and that he was just sowing his wild oats before we got married. I’m not too sure what he thought I would say to that comment, but by the look on his face at the time, the words ‘fuck you’ were not it.
I kicked him out, sending him home to his parent’s house that night. When I went to bed, I felt horrible. Not for him or even for us, but physically, I felt terrible. I just thought it was from our fighting, and all I needed was a good night’s rest.
But that wasn’t it.
That night, I woke up in a puddle of blood and called 911.
Once I was at the hospital, the nurses called Adam. He was there in no time and by my side when the doctors told me I had lost our baby. The loss was devastating. My doctors told me that the fetus, their words, was not viable and that I was lucky to have had the miscarriage now instead of when I was further along.
At one point, as I laid in that hospital bed in complete despair, Adam excused himself to call his parents and to let them know. There was a small, empty waiting room just outside my room where I could see Adam, with his back to me, on the phone. He had been with me the entire night, and I realized he must have been hurting as well.
Deciding to go be with him as he told his parents about our loss, I climbed out of bed and made my way over to the waiting room with my IV pole in tow.
My blood ran cold when I realized he had both his parents on speakerphone and his mother stated that she’s so relieved that she won’t be a grandparent at such a young age and Adam laughed… laughed… and stated he was so relieved that he would not have to go through all of this and that he’ll wait a few weeks before he breaks it off with me so that he doesn’t look insensitive. It wasn’t a good look for his future. His parents agreed and congratulated him on dodging a bullet.
They called my baby a bullet.
That moment was when I decided I no longer needed him or his family in my life. I had been the only one actually taking part in this relationship for a long time now. The only one actually trying. Those plans… Adam’s plans, those were his. Not mine. Not ours. His. None of those plans that we crafted together actually had anything in them I wanted to do. At least not with him.
I groaned, not to get his attention, but because I was sore from walking from my bed to this waiting room after having the procedure earlier that day to remove my baby from my womb.
Adam turned around and paled. “Oh shit. I gotta go. I’ll call you back.” He hangs up the phone and puts it in his back pocket.
“Don’t bother. You’re leaving.” I said as I made my way to the nurse’s station.
“Can I help you?” An older nurse asked me. She must have seen something in the look on my face, because she came around the counter and put herself between me and Adam.
“Yes. I’d like for this man…” I wave my hand towards Adam, “to leave and no longer allowed in my room. I’d also would like to be tested for every sexually transmitted disease out there.”
“Kate. Come on. You don’t mean that.” Adam tries to take my elbow, but I yank it back.
“Leave.” The older nurse tells him. “If you don’t, I’ll call security. Go.” She repeats.
“Kate?”
I don’t look at him, nor do I acknowledge him. Instead, I walk with the nurse back to my room, dragging the IV pole beside me. As the nurse closes the door to my room, I hear the other nurse tell Adam that he needs to leave immediately, or she’ll call security.
Adam yells, “If I leave, I’m not coming back, Kate. Not ever.”
The door closes, and the nurse locks it.
I climb back into bed. “Good.”
