The Man I Loved Abused Me During My Pregnancy

I thought he loved me. Thought I had met the love of my life. I was wrong. The man I loved abused me during my pregnancy, and it didn’t stop there. Looking back, I understand how I fell under his spell and why it took so long for me to leave.

As a teen, I never really felt loved

My mom and dad separated when I was only six years old, and I went to live with my mom. When I was 11 years old, my dad moved away and didn’t tell me. Someone informed my mom of his move, and the feeling of abandonment affected me for years.

I started giving the love I had for my father away to any guy I got into a relationship with, and none of those relationships worked out. They verbally abused me and told me that I love too hard or that I am clingy. I always brushed it off by saying, “God is love,” for I believe so much in God. This cycle went on for years.

Connection, love

Finding Connection

When I was 24 years old, I met a guy on a dating site. He appeared to be genuine, different than the others. We even connected through our stories of absentee fathers.

However, he wasn’t working; he said he was selling a few items at his home. That didn’t bother me because I was also out of work. I just wanted to be loved purely and genuinely.

Thick As Thieves

A mere two months into the relationship, I became pregnant. To me, this was a miracle because doctors told me that my chance of having children was small.
Even without an income, we hung in there. I started to hustle with him. That was when he began to change.

In another argument, he hit me so much that I started to shake uncontrollably. I didn’t know what was going on until we reached the hospital. They had to try to calm me down because I was pregnant. I had to face the truth. The man I loved was abusing me during my pregnancy.

Enough Is Enough

The last time he hit me, I saw nothing but blackness and fell to the floor. My mom started crying and asked why I was coping with all the abuse.

My answer was that I was hoping he would change, but he never did. I got hit in the face, and my nose almost broke. He stabbed my finger and bucked my head, and I did nothing except pray and fast.

I am in nursing school now. He left, and I’m holding on to God, because through it all, it was by his mercy and strength that I’m alive and here with my daughter.

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