I was so caught up in my time with The Truth, the dirty texts, the video chats on Snap, the emails and phone calls, that often times I would lose sight of who I was. I know I ignored my husband. I know I ignored my life. I know I became addicted to that beautiful man and his amazing cock, and like a junky, I was willing to do anything to get my fix. We met twice one on one in hotels. He would fuck me until I could not think straight, and then provide aftercare that left me feeling as though he genuinely cared for me. We became friends over those weeks. We became confidantes.
Four weeks after the threesome at my house, I woke up one morning feeling fatigued, sick, just not able to really get my day started. I am so not a morning person, but at least the smell of coffee brewing will usually make me roll out of bed. That morning, the smell got to me. I had the husband pour the coffee out. He knew right away something was wrong. It was a Saturday, I was denying my crack in a cup and could barely lift my head without wanting to pass out.
He figured it out before I did. I mean, I was told I would never be a mother, he would never be a father, that we would grow old together and it would always just be the two of us. The husband and I had not had sex in weeks, but he knew. The Truth and I had not used condoms in the shower. I was not on birth control because I would never be able to have children due to cancer years before supposedly leaving me barren. He knew that when he brought me tests from the local pharmacy that they would show that another man, The Truth, had gotten me pregnant. I was in denial. I sat on the toilet and peed on the stick and never gave it another thought. It said wait three minutes, but as the pee spread across that little window, the plus sign immediately appeared. I yelled for my husband, I broke down into tears with my panties still around my ankles, still on the toilet, unable to move.
All I could think to myself was that I was 40, pregnant, and by a man that was not my husband. Then I kept thinking that I was about to ruin the life of a man that was only 23, had his life ahead of him in the military, and if anyone in the Army found out, his whole future would be destroyed. I had a level of love in my heart for this man, this young man who had come to mean so to me in so little time, and I could not fathom making his entire future vanish in one fell swoop.
My husband, my soul mate, the better half of my heart, and I talked for days. We tried to figure out what would be best for us, and what would be best for The Truth. Do we tell him? Do we even allow the pregnancy to progress? Was it even possible for me to carry a baby to term and not hurt myself in the process? I scheduled a doctor’s appointment, and due to my age, my history, I was in the next day. The prognosis was not good. My doctor had serious concerns about carrying the baby to term. He immediately made an appointment with a specialist group for high risk mothers. My problems? My cervix was not strong and already thinning, I had been on medication for years for another issue that would likely cause me to spontaneously abort the baby, or if left on bed rest for the majority of my pregnancy, the baby would likely have developmental and physical issues. My doctor was not pleased with my blood work and had an ultrasound performed. That’s when I saw it. I saw this baby. This little peanut shaped wonder just floating around in my body. There was no heartbeat yet, not one that they could detect, but two technicians both exclaimed that the baby looked perfect and healthy for that stage.
No matter what the ultrasound showed, though, my battle would just be beginning if I carried the pregnancy to term. My husband, he felt that terminating was the best decision for all involved. That was not an easy thing for him to say. I know him. I know his heart. He would love a child regardless of whether or not he was the father. He had always been ProLife. His concern was for my health. His concern was that he might lose me, and according to the doctor, that was a real consequence. He was worried about our future, and that of The Truth.
Weeks went by, I still spoke to The Truth, but I was distant. We met once, but I felt disconnected for keeping this huge secret from him. I did not want to keep it from him, I did not want to lie, so I became quieter than normal. He knew something was wrong, but luckily his training ramped up so he was distracted. Ultimately, I decided to never tell him. I decided to terminate the pregnancy. I decided the fate of all involved, and I still cry and hate myself to this day. I can justify what I did for all of the reasons stated above. The real truth is that I made a decision that affected many, and only myself and my husband knew. He was there, he supported me. He still supports me to this day when I feel barren in my womb, and I cry out for the baby I terminated. I am ProChoice. I was then, I am still. I just know that know matter what your beliefs, you are never prepared to make a decision of that magnitude that will alter you and your dreams and life forever. I often wonder what would I would be like today. Would my days be filled with the coos and smiles and laughs of a beautiful baby boy or girl? A child that was a mix of my bat shit crazy self and that of my beautiful Truth? Would they have his coffee eyes and my wild hair and his infectious smile? Would they be content to have a mother that was wild and untamed and crazy, but who loved them with the very air she breathed?
I never told him. I never told The Truth about the baby we made. If I could see him today and tell him, I would say….
What I know now, I know the decision was truly the right one. We made a mistake. I made the mistake of not allowing you to be a part of the decision. You and I, we were wild together. Yes, we made a child, but our lives in the months to come will show that it was truly not meant to be. That beautiful soul, the one that remained a part of my body for twelve weeks, it was never ours to have. We made a mistake that night in the shower. I’ve paid physically and emotionally since. I still pay today. I was wrong, perhaps, in not involving you, but your future actions will prove that you would never have been ready to be a father to that child anymore that I was ready to be a mother. You will hurt me. You will hurt others that I did not even know existed at this time. You would not need me and our secret and a child to ruin your life, your future. You would do all of that on your own in the months to come. You will destroy one life, and in the end yours as well. I still wonder at the life the child would have had, that I would have had with it. In the end, mistakes were made, lessons learned, but neither stops the yearning for the fullness I once felt in my heart, in my soul, in my womb.