Thank Heaven for Little Girls

When I became pregnant in 1989, I instantly knew I would be having a girl. I was sick morning, noon, and night. I lost more weight than I gained. I was scared and nervous. One usually is the first time they become a mother. It is natural to experience it all.

At this time, I was going through a power struggle. My mother was upset about the pregnancy and my significant other wanted to control my every move. I was extremely depressed. I felt I could not win with anyone. Friends, I thought I had disappeared. I was alone. I would go to work everyday and come home. I never spoke to anyone outside of work. This made my pregnancy even more miserable. When I think of this time, I cry because I had no one to turn to. What should have been a happy time was depressing.

I went to every doctor's appointment alone. I went shopping for my child alone. He was never there in any form. At the time, I was ignorant, which in my eyes was bliss.

He was worthless. During this time, his verbal and emotional abuse escalated. I always felt empowered and strong. He took that way from me. Or should I say I allowed this to happen. But, I had no where to turn. That was until I gave birth.

The day I went into the hospital was April 9, 1990 in labor. The pain was unlike any other that I have felt. All he could say was shut up and stop whining. I got brave and spoke up. I told him until he feels the pain I was feeling he needed to shut the f*%$ up. That did not go well. At about 10:00 a.m., the doctor felt I needed to have a c-section, since my child was not getting enough oxygen.

He knew this was going to happen, but all he could say was.."I am going to get some sleep". When he came back I had already given birth to Vianca Alyssa. I immediately fell in love with her unconditionally, as I knew she would me. Did anyone come and see me? No. I was alone.

Vianca slept with me in the hospital. I did not want her to leave my side. I did not want to be alone. She fulfilled me in ways I choose to no longer do myself. She gave me strength. I started speaking up for myself. The more I did, the worst things became at home. I stopped cooking and started going out.

I went to visit a girlfriend in the Bronx. He called everyone in my telephone book looking for me. When he found me, he ordered me home, like a child. As a child, I returned home. Why? I was scared. I knew he did some "bad" things and what he was capable of. I wanted to be around for Vianca.

But, she still gave me strength. I felt brave. Therefore, I visited another friend several times. I took my telephone book with me. One night, I never came home. When I did finally come home, I was attacked. He wrapped the fingers of each hand around my neck as he pinned me to the bed. I thought I would die. My saving grace, Vianca. Her cries at my screaming saved me. He stopped and left the premises.

That day I finally left and never came back.

Thank heaven for little girls.