When I first found out I was pregnant, I was terrified. I was twenty-five-years-old, mere months off of heroin, working part time and living with my father. My boyfriend’s prospects were about the same, only he lived with his mom and didn’t work. It was a Saturday night when I found out. I was having a girls’ night at home with my friends and my younger sister. We had gone to the drug store and I had bought a pregnancy test, having had strange cravings, nausea, and extreme tiredness over the past several weeks. I took both tests in the box and they both said a big, bold PREGNANT.
I couldn’t get a hold of Bob until the next day. He had been at the bar the night before and I finally tracked him down at one of his friend’s houses. Not wanting to tell him over the phone, I asked him to come over right away, saying it was urgent news. Three hours later, he arrived, drunk and high on xanax. When I told him, his reaction was, “ Didn’t you get paid this week? Let’s take a drive.” I wanted to talk to him about the situation, so I agreed. As I talked, he drove to the city in the pouring rain and purchased cocaine. He then told me he was late to meet his dad, tossed two of my own crumpled dollar bills into my lap, dropped me off at a bus stop and drove away.
I don’t know why I stayed with him after that day, but I did. I guess I understood what addiction can do to people, having battled it myself. Also, I was scared to raise a baby on my own and I was sure that a baby would change him the way that it had changed me. From the moment I knew I was pregnant, my whole life changed. I realized that my life wasn’t about me anymore and it only made me want to work harder to step up to this responsibility and give my child the best possible life he could have. I swore from that day on to never touch drugs again. Unfortunately, Bob did not.
Time passed and Bob reassured me that he would get a job and take care of me and the baby. I wanted to be a happy family so badly that I believed him. His mother got a job promotion that would move his family to Texas and we decided that moving might be a perfect way to start over and stay clean.
One week before the move, Bob overdosed on heroin in his bathroom. The water had been running for over an hour and his mom, who was home from work packing, panicked and broke the door down when there was no response to her knocking. He was naked and blue on the bathroom floor.
It took the paramedics fifteen minutes to revive him and I thought he was dead. At this point I was angry that he would do this to me when I needed him. I was angry that he might die and I would never get to tell him how angry I was. I had been asking him for two weeks if he was using again and he said “no” every time. I knew he was lying and I was angry for that too. Even lying in a hospital bed in the emergency room, he denied having a problem, claiming he didn’t remember what happened.
Bob moved with his mom to Texas as planned. I was finishing work and doctors appointments and I was scheduled to fly down in a month. During this month I spoke to him everyday and everyday he seemed to be getting better and stronger. He was going on interviews, making me laugh and telling me how much he wanted to be with me and how much he wanted this baby. I felt like our relationship was finally back on track. I thought I was getting back the man I fell in love with four years earlier. I had hope for the first in a very long time.
When I arrived at the airport in Dallas, it was Bob’s mom who met me. She told me that Bob had been arrested on a felony burglary charge and was in jail. He had sold everything in our apartment for drug money—my tv, my clothes, my shoes and designer purses—and then moved on to someone else’s house to steal and got caught. She said she was not bailing him out and would love for me to stay with her and raise the baby.
I thought maybe I could make a life for myself in Texas, but I was miserable. I was four months pregnant, with no car, no job, and no family or friends in the area. I cried day and night. I didn’t want to tell my family what had happened. For some reason, I felt the need to protect Bob because I didn’t want them to hate him. I didn’t want them to worry about me because I was doing well, maybe better than I ever had by staying off drugs for so long. Finally, I realized that I was hurting myself and my baby by keeping all this inside. I told my dad first and then it snowballed and I told others. I realized that in order to heal and move on, I needed to ask for help and that Bob’s mistakes were not a reflection on me. This was not my fault.
I flew home, with a suitcase full of family photos, books, and sweatpants being the only possessions I had left in my life. But they were just things. I was coming home to my family and I couldn’t have been happier. I have never received so much love and support from them. In a way, I feel this baby was my gift, my blessing. He showed me who is really important in my life. He helped me to reconnect with my family after having driven them away with years of hard drug use. He made my life whole again and showed me that I am a strong person capable of doing well on my own without a man to support me.
Bob’s mom has since bailed him out of jail. I changed my number after repeated mean and threatening phone messages, calling me a hypocrite because I left him even though I too have had trouble with the law in the past due to drugs. He continues to send me emails that say how much he needs me and how much he loves me and wants a part in his son’s life. He claims to be doing well now.
Well, that’s a line I’ve heard before. I’m not willing to put my son’s life in danger, physically and emotionally by having a father who’s shooting heroin in the picture. Although I am aware that people can change, as I did, I haven’t seen any effort on his part and a few days out of jail isn’t really proof of anything. It’s really a shame, because as a child, I witnessed the ugly custody battle that ensued in parents’ divorce and never wanted my child to go through something like that.
Now, I'm 7 1/2 months pregnant. I’m confident that with my love, and the love of my family around me, this child will have a happy life. I know I will do anything in my power to make sure of that.
