And then came baby

I was scheduled to be induced the morning of July 20, 2010 at Memorial University Medical Center in Savannah, GA. Dr. Pettigrew was an amazing Ob/Gyn and made a good point of being induced being less messy and being better prepared because of being able to know what to expect with an induction. It was hard to argue.

We made our way to the hospital around 5am and they prepped me. I was placed on ptocin in order to increase and strengthen contractions. I elected for no pain management initially. Then Dr. Pettigrew came in and ruptured my membranes and the pain was so intense with the ptocin that I was given IV medications that didn't even take the edge off. I finally gave in to an epidural after eight hours of hard contractions. I could've kissed the doctor who did it. It went just as he explained it to me and I was no longer feeling like a monster. I was able to relax and soon after Sam decided to leave to get food, I was dilated to 9cm and ready to deliver. The nurse cut the ptocin off and said she would call Dr. Pettigrew and be right back. She didn't come back. I started to feel dizzy and the monitor started to beep. Baby Boy was in distress and his heart rate was dropping. Another nurse came in and had me lay on my right side and placed an oxygen mask on my face. Soon thereafter, Dr. Pettigrew showed up and was puzzled as of to why the ptocin was off and she was rather upset that she never received a call. Sam showed back up and she turned the ptocin back on and said we would be delivering soon. A total of 12 hours of labor later, and Omar was born. He started experiencing distress again as I delivered him and after the final push, he pooped right as he came out. He was beautiful... just as I had pictured him to be. I breast fed him immediately and he had no problem with latching on and feeding. He was perfect. They swept him away for a bath and for standard labs and such. Sam was more fascinated with the placenta and the cord blood and tissue that we elected to have cryogenically frozen through Cbr. Doc sewed up a few internal stitches where I tore a little and soon after, the epidural was removed. Once I was able to feel my legs again, I was able to move to the next room where I would stay the night. Sam tended to me during our stay there. He tended to me throughout the entire delivery. Why did I think it was something endearing? This was something he was once employed at this very hospital to do. It wasn't something he was doing to be sweet and loving... it was just like work to him.

We were discharged and the lights went back out... literally as we exited the hospital doors...LIGHTS OUT.

Lights ON

Sam came around (hindsight being 20/20, around the time where legal abortion was no longer a possibility), and was now all on board. He claimed it was a "knee-jerk" reaction. Sadly... it didn't take long for me to buy that. He was being Mr. Perfect all over again. He was once again, that guy that was awesome like in the very beginning. Attentive, compassionate, affectionate, patient, understanding... and then some. I forgave him... as forgiving as I am, I forgave him and hardly thought for a second that I could be making a mistake. He wanted to come home and sweep me away to the Bahamas and get married. And we did just that.

His family came down. His mom, baby sis HudPie, sis Kat, and sis Gigi. None of them liked me. The feeling was very mutual. I didn't like any of them from the day we met... heck, from how he spoke of them, I didn't like them before I even met them. Not even his mother. He wanted them there... I didn't. So they came. They were rude, loud, and inconsiderate of everyone else around them. They were just as hideous on the inside as they were out... yet they didn't even realize it. It was as though they thought they were like the Kardashians or something. Not even close.

The day before we got married, we went on a private boat ride with a local who took us to a small private island with a speed boat and jet ski. Gigi got tipsy and pulled me to the side to let me know that she was trying to love me but that she was having a hard time. Her reason was because, "I've been looking for a man like my brother all of my life and if I could marry him and have his babies, I would." The look on my face must have been priceless. When I told her that she was disturbing me on a number of levels, she then let me know that, "Oh habibti please. People did it all the time in the fourteenth century." Clearly we are not in the fourteenth century, and I was still very disturbed. She was drunk, but not quite drunk enough at that point to say something like that and not mean it.

Either way, we went back to the hotel and the next day we got married. We went into town and had dinner together and Sam and I danced to "Hero" by Enrique Iglesias. It took me back to when he would dance with me in the kitchen and sing to me. Not that he was a spectacular singer, because he wasn't, but it was just nice to have someone treat me that way. Those days were far gone and very fake. Happiness with Sam only revolved around him getting his way. In the beginning, he was simply just learning me and laying groundwork. Here I was, now his wife, and ten times more at his will.

He continued to treat me like a princess...

The "relationship"

I will never forget the first time Sam wrapped his hands around my throat. He knocked me to the ground of the living room floor, just behind the couch. This was the first time I ever met his rage. He easily rested his weight on me and I didn't budge an inch in my attempts in trying to fight him. His hands grasped at my neck and just before it all went black, the last I heard him say was, "I've killed for less than this."

Darkness fell over my eyes and I started to fade. Then, RELEASE.... and I could breathe again. I got up in a stupor. One would think I wouldn't stay after that, but I did. I felt like he needed my help. I felt like I could be a positive change for him. I was so wrong. People only change when they want to change. They don't change otherwise. Sam was perfectly okay with what he was... still is. There is no changing him. He is what he is... a bonafide sociopath.

Instances like this occurred several other times. It was until after I had our son that I was really concerned. It's one thing when you subject yourself to that kind of torment, but a whole other story when you have a kid involved.

Rewinding a little ways. Sam and I went on vacation to Barbados during one of his months free from contract work. We stayed for a few weeks and then returned home. We got into a huge fight and two days before he was to leave again, we came to a mutual ground... or so I thought. He turned his light switch on and off so easily.

He would travel a lot and we would only see each other for a month or two total out of the year... and not consecutively. I think that is how we lasted so long. I mean, I didn't have to really deal with him much when he was gone and he was good at making me think he missed me and wanted me. I felt most wanted when he was far away.

In the very beginning of his travels back overseas after vacationing in Barbados, I discovered that I was pregnant. I heard from him three days later and he attempted to sway me into getting an abortion. Now, in the beginning of our dating, I told him my views on abortion personally and that it wasn't something I personally felt was possible for me to do. He agreed 100%. But here I was, finding myself having to explain to him why an abortion would be too hard for me and the potential damages it could do to my body. He kept on and on with the, "It's bad timing" and "Can't we have a baby next year?" speeches. I couldn't believe what he was saying. I finally put my foot down and flat out told him, "No, I cannot do that to myself." Then the tables turned. He accused me of tricking him into pregnancy and trapping him. He told me that he was going to break up with me when he got overseas anyway. He attempted to make me hate him and told me that I was going to ruin his life and our kid's life. I was floored.

The first trimester consisted of friends supporting me and making sure I was ok. My friend Jason was the one who rushed over amidst a panic attack. Sarah, Allie, Jen, and Nicki would welcome me with open arms at work with huge hugs and stick figure picture drawings to help make me smile. I worked two full time careers as a firefighter in our town and a paramedic in Savannah. I was more than occupied enough to keep my mind off of things. Sam and I didn't talk a whole lot. He had nothing nice to say to me and frankly, I had nothing nice to say to him at this point.

However, come trimester number two.... all of that soon changed... because the light switch flipped up again...