By the time I did have contact
with him again, I’d had a child (more on that later). Several years after that
conversation, I’d done enough healing to feel comfortable having contact again.
I’d heard from mother that he’d remarried, but figured I could handle that. So,
I looked him up on Facebook. His profile is locked up tight, but at the time
there was an e-mail address, so I sent him an e-mail asking how he was doing.
Minutes later I received a new friend request on Facebook from him. I was so
excited I nearly did a happy dance around the house.
For the next six weeks I was walking
around in a happy fog. I didn’t find any sign on his page that he was still
married, so I wondered how things would be between us this time. Not only that,
but he posted something that I believe was directed at me, even though I can’t
prove it. During this time, I sent him a message asking about his aunt and her
children, which he never responded to.
Then on Valentine’s Day he posted
something I liked, then wrote in the comments, “For my wife.”
I was shocked and hurt. Then I
got angry. I was so angry that if I could have physically slapped him, I
probably would have. I couldn’t sit still, so I went for a walk. I remember at
one point glancing at a stranger. I could tell from the look on his face that
he didn’t want contact with me. That’s when I realized that if someone looked
at me wrong or said the wrong thing to me, I was likely to go off.
When I got home, I sent him a
message on Facebook in which I told him off. I told him that his profile should
reflect the fact that he was married, as the lack of any relationship status
made it look like he was looking for someone.
He replied that it was a privacy
issue. I told him that everyone knew you could set up your Facebook profile so
that only your friends could see anything. He blocked me after that. Shortly
after that he sent me an item for a game we played on Facebook. I’m not sure he
was paying attention because it allowed me to go to his profile and undo every
like I’d ever done on his posts.
A few years later I was talking
to a sweet lady who also turned out to be wise, when for some reason I told her
about my last contact with Dorn. She looked at me and said, “You can’t control
what he does. You can’t control whether or not he responds to your messages or
tells you he’s married.”
I looked at her and realized that
she was right. Then I felt like I wanted/needed to apologize to Dorn, but since
it’s been a few years since we’ve had any kind of contact, it wasn’t a good
idea. So, I got a journal and wrote out what I was feeling. Later, I found
another journal where I write letters I know I won’t send and wrote one to him
in there.
Several weeks after I left his
house for the last time, Ricky, an employee at a gas station I frequented gave
me his pager number and asked me to call him. I didn’t plan to as I knew I
wasn’t ready for another relationship, but after a couple of weeks, I figured, “why not?”
He was surprised when he realized
it was me on the phone. He said that I’d taken so long to call that he didn’t
think I was going to. I just said that I’d been busy. We started hanging out. He
played darts in a league, so I learned to play and eventually bought my own
darts because I enjoyed playing so much. I even tried to join the league, but
none of the teams had openings and I didn’t know enough people interested in
darts to form one of my own.
We became sexually involved early
on at my request. He was kind enough to ask if I was sure. I said I was, but
now I wish I hadn’t. Every time we got together anywhere private after that, he
wanted sex. We used condoms, but as happens, one failed at the right time of
the month for me.
By the time I learned I was
pregnant, I was thinking I needed to break up with him. I knew by then that we
weren’t going work out. Finding out I was pregnant was a shock. I’ll never
forget that night. I’d just gone back to work after being out sick for a week,
but I was still tired. I’d had suspicions based on things not being “normal”
with me, but was planning to wait to see if I missed a second monthly cycle.
Being sick made me realize that I needed to know ASAP.
So, I bought a test on the way
home from work that night. When I took it, I got the shock of my life. I was
pregnant! I looked at the test, went through the steps again in my head, looked
at the test again. There was no doubt in my mind. I then paged Ricky to tell
him. He asked if I was sure. I said, “Yes. Do you want to see the test?”
“No, that’s all right.”
From then on, everything I did
was to ensure a healthy pregnancy. I even ate bananas, which at the time were
one of my least favorite fruits, but it was better than no fruit at all. It
didn’t take long for me to start showing. I was wearing sweat pants by the end
of my third month because my jeans no longer fit. Thankfully, as long as my
clothes were clean and in good condition, I could wear what I wanted at work.
I was lucky with the morning
sickness. I’d get up and be slightly nauseous, but as soon as I ate breakfast,
I was fine. A couple of my friends were pregnant at the time and they had it
bad. Neither of them could eat much nor stand the smell of food.
Ricky asked me not to tell anyone
outside of family that I was pregnant as he wanted to be sure I’d carry the
baby to term. That made for a couple of interesting situations at a bar where
we hung out and played darts. One lady looked at me in passing, then paused. I
asked her what was up. She just shook her head, then said, “Are you pregnant.”
I confirmed that I was and told
her we were keeping it to ourselves for now. She understood.
Another night I went to the bar
for a dart tournament or something immediately after work. I was exhausted, so
I sat in one chair with my legs on another. After being on my feet all day at
work, I needed to put my feet up. One of the other dart players came by and
offered to buy me a drink. I said, “Some grapefruit juice would be lovely.”
He looked at me like I was nuts
and said, “I said, ‘I’m buying.’”
I repeated my order and he said,
“What’s the matter? You pregnant or something?”
I just grinned at him. Then I
told him that I was and that we weren’t telling anyone till I was into my
second trimester. Once I hit my second trimester, there was no hiding the fact
that I was pregnant. By the time I was in my third trimester, people were
telling me I’d never make it to my due date. I’d tell them to hide and watch. I
was almost right: he came three days early.
No comments:
Post a Comment