When I talk about this day, I try to make it about me, my children are the most amazing part of it all. From my story will come their very own story and how they are affected. As they mature and grow older its up to them, what they do and don't share about their story. Who they tell and don't tell I want them to know that there is never a need to keep this secret .
I don't talk about this often because it hurts, and because I honestly don't know how too. This is something that really can't be shared often. People don't understand. People are shocked and people don't know what to say. Well guess what I don't either.
There is no guidebook or manual for what to do in this situation. I can remember being told that it doesn't happen and feeling so shameful. Because my truth was being denied right in front of me, and that was devastating.
One of my favorites, the wisest person that I know wanted me to think about this day in terms of empowerment. I can not even tell you the difficulty in that. Empowered, that is I think the furthest word from this situation. I feel a sense of weakness in this day.
On August 22 2003 I was raped and 2 weeks later I found out that I was pregnant.
I type that and my heart Still sinks. I wish that things were different. I wish with all that I am that my story took a different turn, but it did not. That day become a part of my story that is everything sad and everything hopeful. I have to believe that is where the empowerment comes in.
There are so many choices that could be made, thoughts to be had. My first and only thought was, I am going to be a mom.
The morning sickness started right away, I was so sick. I literally thought, oh its the flu. But in a few days it never went away. It was a coworker that said "you are so pregnant, you need to take a test"
The panic in my heart, I am pretty sure that the world stopped for a few minutes. That night I went home and took a test. Two lines.
The only night that I cried. I laid down on the floor with my dog Rizzo, and I cried, I talked to him and petted his head, his eyes listening to my every word. What in the world was I going to do, I was going to be a mom.
I can remember the next day running into Wal-Mart after work and buying some saltines and ginger ale. I was standing there in line, and I wanted someone to ask why I was buying what I was, and I wanted to tell them that I was going to be a mom. There was an excitement, being a mom was something that I always wanted.
Honestly, I never thought about what happened to me again really not for a long time. All that mattered was my children. I never took better care of myself going to every doctor appointment taking every prenatal vitamin. I mean I was caring for two sweet amazing babies, why would I not ?
I was asked so many questions, if I was drinking, who he was, people didn't know I was seeing anyone and for oh so long I kept my story mine, because all that mattered was Vincent and Mariska.
I can remember my mother asking what I was going to do and I said I didn't know maybe move in with him....Just a smart ass comment , because I didn't have a clue. I knew what happened, what he did and I still said that. I said something to my mom that he was black, my brother said something about them having N**** lips, and my mother said oh they will look like little monkey's. And they both laughed. They broke my heart if they loved me how could they say those things. You can make fun of me and laugh at me all you like, but DO NOT make fun of my children. I was heartbroken, they were talking about my children. Never once was he talked about was he asked about so I kept my story to myself. My children were all that mattered and I was going to make sure that they had all that I never did. That they knew they were loved no matter what they did.
Right after they were born we went to get food stamps, they were less than a week old. And the case worker asked about the father. I am sure I shrank inside, he didn't matter my children did and I told her that I didn't know. She said that I had to file for child support. I again said that I didn't know any information, and she threw a pencil across the table at me and walked out. I was devastated. Like I already felt bad enough,, she was so cruel and insensitive. Tears running down my face I went in the car to nurse Mariska and I remember talking to her, like it was just us against the world with a shaky reassuring voice that we were going to be ok.
I never missed a second with them. They were everything. The reason that I got up in the morning, the reason why I never stopped breathing, because believe me there were plenty of days I wanted nothing more . Life was hard and I never stopped smiling. We sat on the floor, we sang we danced,
So I guess looking back there were great moments of empowerment in this story. Not once did I ever give up, not once did I let anything change the love for my children, because they were all mine. Not once did I ever think of anything other than being pregnant and being their mom. I can see some moments, but I am looking for that moment when I can stand tall and say what happened to me, and be proud of myself and not feel any less than the person next to me. If you stood me next to one hundred other people I am going to feel less than every single one of them.
Something terrible happened to me but I got the biggest light that I could have ever imagined in my children. Life was more than hard before I had them, and because of them; so many things changed. I went back to school, I got my degree. I made sure they were so loved, I made sure that they had a childhood filled with oh so much love. So many nights I went to bed tears streaming down my face hoping that I was doing enough, hoping that they always felt my love. Hoping that they were getting everything that they needed.
I am struggling trying to find that piece of empowerment, that piece where I can be proud. I am looking for that piece of peace that seems so far away.
As I look back I see how far that we have come, and I put my hand on my heart and it seems so surreal. I am sure I think more about him now because the kids are older, and I can look at the part before them. The part where I wanted to belong, the part where I wanted to go to lunch. The part where I knew what was going to happen and went away. The part where he didn't listen and I am not sure if any of this makes sense. So many feelings, thoughts that Vincent asks a few questions, but I feel that more are coming. I also feel like they know its a hard subject. They are going to be 18 in April and I fear them searching for him. I fear speaking the words to them, about what happened. We have only spoken about it once when we were in Colorado, and their were so many tears. I simply said that he wasn't nice and didn't listen. But its so much more than that. I know that they need the truth, and that is terrifying . I don't know how that conversation goes, I don't know the questions that they may have. I think maybe there is a fear that I will be left behind somehow. What if they find him and think he is this amazing person, better than me ?
I want them to ask the hard questions, I do I think I worry about the answers because I am not often honest with myself at how hurt that I am. I turned that off when I knew I was going to be their mom, not a single thing mattered more in the world. I have said that I don't want them to think he is a monster but really he is , its so much more than him not listening he took things that weren't his to take. I want to be able to say what happened and hide the hurt that he caused. I don't think that's possible, really. I am more than hurt at what he did to me. And I am more than grateful to be their mom. 2 things so close together in time. One minute there is a before, and an after in the same breathe, that is hard to comprehend.
I see them and I am amazed at the people they are becoming. I think there are pieces of our story that we can talk about together and there are pieces of the story that I can never understand from their perspective. I want them to know that they could not be loved more, that they are the best part of my life. I want them to know that even with what happened I would do it all again to get to be their mom. I want the sadness to be gone about what happened to me. Like that poem everything is beautiful and I am so sad. I am sure there is a part of me that feels I am so grateful for how far that we have come, I am grateful for them I love them more than words and even with all of that that sad is still there for what happened to me. Sometimes its hard for both of those things to happen in my heart at the same time because there isn't one with out the other. I don't know what to do with that.
That is what I want. There were some early tears last night, as we all laughed and talked in the kitchen. I want so much for them and I want this to be a very small piece in the amazing tapestry of the amazing humans that they are.
Oh my Vincent Mariska, you are everything wonderful, you made me a mom and I will forever be blessed.
I love you I love you I love you, Mamma
I heart your heart,
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