“I’m still not sure how long I was in there, but it was a long time, long enough that when I got out, I was late for work, too late. I was in shock, numb in some ways but hypersensitised in others. Mike came back, I heard him moving around for quite a while before he let me out. I was sweaty and disorientated when he opened the door and the light hurt my eyes and I didn’t move out immediately.” The memory of that incident came back to me as clear as the day it happened almost two years before. My tears returned and despite the offer to stop, to wait, to come back to this at another session, I continued. “He got really angry and began to shout at me, saying that as I’d enjoyed my time in the cupboard so much, I could stay there for the rest of the day and all night. I was unable to speak or move until that second because I felt sure that if I didn’t find the strength to move, I’d be locked in the darkness again. When I tried to get up, my legs wouldn’t cooperate, maybe because I’d been squashed into a corner on the floor so I crawled out and he laughed at me. He grabbed me by the hair until I was looking up at him and he spat in my face.”
“Danni, do you need a drink or a break?”
I shook my head fiercely. I needed to do this. “I lost my baby.”
“How? When?”
“For the next few days, Mike stayed at home. I lost my phone, although I found out afterwards that he’d taken it. He wouldn’t let me go to work or contact the hospital. I had to sleep on the floor next to the bed, he wouldn’t let me sleep next to him, but the worst thing is that I was almost glad of that, I was relieved.”
“I think the relief you felt is understandable and completely natural. You must have felt a sense of calm and reassurance to know you at least had some space between you.”
“I did. I had been having some cramping and spotting, had done from the start of my pregnancy so wasn’t too concerned by it but then it got worse. The first day Mike left me, I still didn’t have my phone and he’d locked the doors and windows so when the cramping got worse and the bleeding got heavier, I knew something was wrong. I didn’t know what to do and I had no way of contacting anyone. I was beginning to think that I’d have to smash a window and call to one of the neighbours or someone passing by . . . I got as far as the big window to the front of the house when the worst pain I have ever known hit me and I don’t remember anything else until I woke up in the hospital.
THEN
My eyes were heavy,too heavy to open, for long minutes, maybe longer. I could hear conversations around me, some of the voices familiar, Mike, and others belonged to strangers. It was strange, the fear I had felt when the atrocious pain had struck was gone. The terror that had become common place when alone with Mike didn’t coil in my gut like a poisonous snake even though I knew he was there and the nervous trepidation of treading on eggshells when in his presence with others was missing too.
With what felt like mammoth strength, I finally opened my eyes and took in my surroundings. The first thing I noticed was the white walls and then a kind, smiling face that I quickly realised belonged to a nurse, then a doctor. I was safe. Suddenly that feeling of safety was replaced with something quite different and all too familiar when Mike’s face came into view. He rushed towards me, tears clouding his eyes. His words were rushed, words of concern, relief, words I wasn’t familiar with, not coming from Mike, certainly not words I’d heard since the very beginning of our relationship. Mike reached for me, pulled me to him, hugged me and cried as he spoke about our baby, how loved and wanted he or she had been and then it hit me.
The baby was no longer in the present tense.
My cries became louder and began to resemble an animalistic howl. I hadn’t wanted to be pregnant, and I had decided initially that I would not have the baby, but now, it had been cruelly taken from me by mother nature. I couldn’t help but wonder how the last week might have impacted on an apparently healthy pregnancy, but being shut in a cupboard and left to sleep on the floor, ignored, unless being berated, whilst not conducive to good mental health couldn’t have caused a miscarriage, could it?
Hours passed and Mike seemed as reluctant to leave me as the kind nurse was to see him go. Eventually with the need to visit the bathroom, he did leave me briefly. The nurse immediately replaced his presence and sat with me, talking to me about organisations that could help me, I assumed she meant with the miscarriage but as she began to talk about domestic violence, coercion, controlling behaviour and abuse, I realised that she could see me, really see me. She spoke about starting again, having support and finding a way to move forward, and whilst she never came out and said I should do it without Mike, she did talk about me being strong, capable and having the world at my feet, if I wanted it. She even managed to get the doctor to agree to me being kept in the hospital for a couple of days and she was the one who called my mum who along with my father arrived the next day.
CHAPTERSIX
NOW
When the counsellorcalled me in from the waiting room, I smiled at the print of the little rowboat, still adrift, but today I noticed the slither of sunshine pushing from between the clouds. Maybe that was symbolic of me too. I was still adrift. Not like I had once been, but I still wasn’t anchored, however, the sun was breaking through and I was able to see the good in the world and more than that, I wanted to be the good in the world. To smile, laugh and fulfil the dreams I’d had before Mike and the fallout from it.
Taking the seat opposite, the counsellor wasted no time in getting down to business and picking up exactly where we’d left off last time.
“So, Danni, what happened when your parents arrived at the hospital after your miscarriage?”
“The shit hit the fan!”
That description was pretty accurate.
“My mum had gone straight into protective mode and my dad into angry. Mike had tried to charm them. He had ensured they hadn’t met more than necessary. Even discussing this today, hearing those facts aloud was somewhat shocking. A quick glance to the counsellor revealed nothing.”
“How do you feel, at that realisation?”
I’d been in counselling for a few months now and honestly, this guy seemed to be living rent free in my head and thoughts.
“It’s shocking really. He had completely isolated me. Jess had gone, my family had become strangers, and through no fault of their own. My last meeting with my mother had resulted in me telling her that ultimately I would choose Mike, Mike and the baby. He had essentially ended my career before it had gotten off the ground and all I had left was him because with the baby gone, it was him.”
“But your parents?”
“My mum wanted me to go home with them, and I wanted that too. I had agreed to it. My dad was ready to kill Mike and he is the most passive man you could ever meet.”
“Did you go home with them?”
I shook my head an allowed a single tear to fall. “Not for another six months. Mike had invited himself along to stay with my parents and when they got wind of it, they’d issued a categorical no. I had expected Mike to be angry and kick off, but he hadn’t. He had accepted their decision and as my parents were staying in a nearby hotel, he took me back to his to get some things and I was going back home the following day.”
“Were you planning to stay with Mike that night?”
“I don’t know, I don’t think so, but I told my parents they didn’t need to come back with me.”
