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Four-leaf Clover

A true story about a turn of events.

By S. G. MarinPublished 4 years ago 19 min read
1

I'm not religious, but I found myself praying anyway.

I was praying for a miracle, praying to survive, begging to make it out of this situation.

He's so very twisted, so tormented, so... wrong. I just wanted to be loved. I had been feeling so alone lately, so meaningless. Then, he showed up in my life. His name was Robbie and I thought he was beautiful. I thought his promises were delicious, but... it was all a lie. Real love doesn't feel this wrong. Even I knew that.

He would mess with my mind, he had a temper, he was unpredictable and I held onto every single untrue word. Then, one night when his family was asleep already, he showed me just how crazy he really was. He screamed at me about something I can't even remember anymore. What I do remember is the cold steel of the gun, waving around the room. I remember the zip-tie wrapped tightly around my wrists. I remember thinking that nobody even knew where I was. If he would've killed me that night, how long would it take for my family to know that I was no longer here?

He pointed the gun at me as I cried, then he pointed it to his own head, saying that his family would blame me and have me put away. He changed his mind frequently, searching for the best "plan". He wanted me to feel weak and defeated. He got his wish. I felt out of options.

Tears were streaming down my face. I didn't know if I'd ever see my family again. He told me that he loved me, that he didn't want to treat me like this. He eventually cut me free and I did my best to play nice.

That night came and went and I was beginning to feel pregnant. I was dreading having that conversation with Robbie. I couldn't forget how he treated me, how much he scared me, but... I told myself that I still loved him. And... I didn't want to let love go. It was fabricated and twisted, but it was still love, or so I thought, and I loved being in love. I tried to convince myself that all the good parts about him outweighed the bad, but that wasn't true. I told him how my body was feeling and what I thought. He told me that I needed to get an abortion. It wasn't a request, it wasn't a conversation, it was just his decision. I tried to protest, but he wouldn't listen to me. He made his decision and I meekly agreed.

I went home the next day and took a test at planned parenthood. Sure enough, there was a bun in the oven. I confirmed with him that I was pregnant over the phone and he told me to get an abortion again. I said that I didn't want to and he argued with me that I promised and how could I go back on my word? He tried to make me feel bad about wanting to keep our baby.

I was tired of arguing and so I, reluctantly, agreed again. He kept on asking me if I had the procedure yet, which I had to uncomfortably tell him that I did not. I've always wanted to be a mom and I didn't know how to just throw my baby away.

I eventually stood up for myself. It stopped being so important to me what he thought. I told him that I was keeping the baby and he could either get on board or get out of my life. He didn't like that, but he wasn't willing to lose all of his control. He tried to act more accepting of this, but he couldn't refrain from making me doubt myself.

He would work into almost every conversation about what a mistake he thought I was making. He would tell me about how I was going to go into debt and have a shopping cart baby because I'd never be able to afford anything.

You think that would be the moment that I got away, but I wasn't very bright at the time. And, without even know why this is what I wanted, I kept trying to make this relationship work.

I saw him once more when I was pregnant. He seemed a little more accepting of my decision, but he wasn't. It was just another lie. I started bleeding when I was there. We went to the ER and he appeared to care about me and the baby. It didn't take him long to say more things to me like he was worried that I'd die or I'd need reconstructive surgery after having a baby and all sorts of things to try convincing me that this wasn't what I should do.

I was finally done. I was done listening to him. I realized that I officially had to make a choice: Robbie or my baby. I finally understood that I couldn't have both. It was a no-brainer. I disconnected from Robbie completely, but I was still heartbroken about losing him and I was terrified that he was right about any of those things he said.

People would see me and smile and ask me how I was doing, which only made me ball my eyes out. That pretty much summed up my whole first trimester.

I had to make another proactive choice at that point. I needed a different environment. I needed better resources to obtain a better life for me and my baby. So, I moved into my dad's house and began looking for work. I was already starting to show, so, I was upfront about my pregnancy and got turned away often.

Then, finally, I got hired at this small lawyers' office. They didn't have a problem with me at all. I was grateful. It only took ten to twenty minutes on the bus. Things were finally starting to look up. I really was so grateful, but the farther along I got, the more scared I got. I was going to be a single mom and it was frightening. I often cried with all those damn hormones.

I tried to stay optimistic. I really did, but it was difficult at times. I was going to have a baby girl and it was wonderful. I just... I didn't really know how to connect with her yet. I didn't talk to her all that much and I only took a few photos. But she really did save my life, and for that, I was grateful. So, I picked out her name: Clover Renee because she was my good luck charm.

The more time that past, the more I knew and understood in my heart that I loved her and that I really did want her. She really did mean everything and I was going to be the best mom to her. She deserved only the best.

I really hoped that everything was going to work out. Then I got fired from my job because they wanted an actual paralegal and there wasn't enough budget to cover both salaries. I excused myself to the bathroom and cried for a long moment. I cleaned off my face and went back to the office. I cleared out my desk.

I applied to unemployment insurance and got approved. I still had some money left from my job as well. I wanted to do right by my daughter. I wanted to make good decisions and most importantly, I didn't want Robbie to find us.

I started doing some research to find another location to raise Clover in. I thought of another state or Canada. I thought of changing my name even, but I eventually decided on Ireland because it's beautiful, it's part of my heritage, and it's really far away. He would never be able to find us. I wanted to leave my past behind me and start fresh. I wanted to give Clover a life to be proud of. I began to plan how much I would need to save. I wanted to go there as soon as possible. I was doing all sorts of math in my head to make this happen.

And I would visualize...

I would imagine being with her in a beautiful green meadow. We would pick flowers and frolic. She was laughing and wearing an adorable poofy pink dress with white shoes. Her long brown hair blowing wildly in the wind, her chubby little arms wrapping around my neck in the sweetest hug, her big inquisitive brown eyes... I could see it all in vivid detail. This was the start of my happiness. I could finally leave everything else behind.

I was feeling good about my planning, my decisions, our future. I had a scheduled sonogram one morning which my stepmother had taken me to and we were laughing about something as we took the elevator up to the proper floor. We continued talking and joking as we waited for the doctor. Everything seemed so light and easy. Everything seemed like it was finally going in the right direction. I had just made it to my third trimester and I was feeling good about her pending arrival.

The doctor showed up and we greeted him friendly. He put the gel on my stomach and started moving the monitor around. We were excited to see her and hear her heartbeat, but, instead, I was asked uncomfortable questions: "Have you fallen on your belly recently?" "No." "Have you bumped into anything lately?" "No, is everything okay?" "I'll tell you in a moment." "Has anyone bumped into you?" "No."

Then, my whole world changed: "I can't find a heartbeat."

I felt like everything came crashing down on me all at once. Tears were instantly streaming down my face. The doctor apologized and said he'll get in touch with the hospital so they can prepare for my arrival. My stepmom had been crying in the corner and came to hug me once the doctor moved.

We drove to the hospital, crying the whole time. Everything felt so surreal. It all just felt so terribly wrong. I didn't know how to accept something like this. I should've talked to her more. I should've told her how much she meant to me...

When we got there, we talked to my doctor and heard more apologies. She gave me the option to give birth at a later date because some moms have trouble accepting it, but she advised not to wait too long. I felt like that would be even harder. I just wanted to get it over with. I have never felt such heartache before. I couldn't stand it. She said that they could admit me right then, or I could go out to eat first.

I chose to go eat before being admitted. My stepmom called my dad while we were there and he drove over. The tears had momentarily ceased, but when I saw my father in the parking lot and he rushed over, wrapping his arms around me, the tears had broke free once again.

We went to a restaurant and ordered. I excused myself to the bathroom, where I called my mom and told her what had happened. We were both crying and she said she'd be right over. I told her what hospital I'd be at because she was about an hour away from me.

At the hospital, I was wearing a gown in their stupid bed and I was trying not to cry all the time, but I couldn't really help it. They put a catheter in me and pumped epidural into my system. The doctors gave me a pill to help induce me and we just had to wait until my body could give birth. The doctor I had been seeing while pregnant said that she was due for a vacation and that some random doctor would be helping me. That bugged me, but I didn't much like her anyway, so, it was fine.

My mom, our family friend: Frank, my stepmom, and dad were all in the room with me. My brother came to visit me for a while too. Everyone was talking and trying to keep things light and I was too, but I couldn't distract myself very easily. My family canceled my baby showers and told everyone what had happened. I heard, yet again, more appologies. I didn't care for people's pity. I just wanted to wake up from this nightmare and have my be alive and well.

Then, the time that I've been dreading had finally arrived. I was pushing with tears streaming down my face. I've never been a religious person, but I found myself praying, yet, again. I was begging for God to take my life instead. I was praying for another miracle. Save her. I've already lived, please, just save her. And if that was impossible, if there was no way to bring her back to this world, to take me as well, for I didn't want to see what life would be like without my daughter. I was praying for escape. I was praying for a solution to all this maddness. I didn't know how I could survive this. She was out of me and I was still here, still breathing. Why was I still breathing?

I gave birth to Clover Renee on September 05, 2015.

I asked to hold her. She was so tiny. She had dark brown hair, dried lips, and she was a shade blue. Part of me was hoping that the doctors were wrong, but holding her right then, you could see how lifeless she was. I asked if my stepmom and dad wanted to hold her as well. They took their turns. I didn't ask my mom because she was sitting in the corner of the room, looking uncomfortable. I didn't want to push her into something she couldn't deal with. It was a hard situation for all of us and we all go through it in our own ways.

My stepmom cried harder, holding Clover in her arms and my dad... I've never seen my dad cry in my whole life, but tears were welling in his eyes and he was getting choked up. It was the hardest day I've ever experienced. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

The hospital took pictures of her in a baby blanket and hat they gave to her and put them on a DVD for me. They also sent a grief counselor my way whom I talked to for a while about what I was feeling and a nurse prayed with/ for me.

Then, I was released. I drove home without her and I went into my room without her. My stepmom cleared all the baby stuff out of my room when I was in the hospital. It was empty. It was quiet. Everything suddenly seemed so bland, so meaningless. I started smoking cigarettes again. I began drinking myself to sleep every night. I was clutching her blanket close to me as I fell asleep night after night, trying to hold onto her as much as I could. Every night, I would whisper "I love you, Clover," into the empty air and I would imagine her as a seven or eight year old kissing my cheek and whispering, "I love you, too, mom." I would dream about her and I would imagine her. I would see her smile and hear her laughter. I would imagine her at various ages. There were so many memories that I never got to experience.

I got some counseling, but it only helped a little and I eventually stopped going. I didn't know what I was supposed to do or where I was supposed to go from here. I kept thinking about anything I could've done differently. I could've talked to her more, I could've cried less, I could've appreciated her more than I did. There must've been something... People would call or send flowers or send other things and that was nice I suppose, but I felt misunderstood by the world. I didn't think that anyone could possibly get what I was going through. I didn't do the proper etiquette thing here. I didn't call anyone to say 'thanks for the cards, flowers, and gifts, but I'm still sad...' I mean, what was I supposed to say? What did they all want to hear. That I was fine? That I was moving on? That they could sleep easy tonight? I didn't need to do that. I didn't need to comfort everyone elses' sadness. I had my own heart that needed mending and, for once, I wasn't thinking about everyone else before myself.

It wasn't until my brother from out of town called me that I was able to find a little peace. He couldn't possibly know exactly what I was going through, but he was more understanding of me than anybody else, oddly enough. He didn't expect anything from me. He allowed me to feel okay about grieving. I will always be grateful to him for that. He made my healing a much easier process because I didn't feel so alone. I needed that, especially with the days that followed.

I spent a lot of time throughout the next week talking to funeral homes and mortuary service people. We found the plot, the casket, the minister, and got everything else together in a couple weeks.

We had her funeral on the day we were supposed to have her baby shower. My grandmas drove down, and I had some cousins arrive too. There were aunts and friends and siblings and parents. We all sat there and listened as our minister, Darryl, read what we had asked him to. My Nana then stood up in front of everyone unexpectedly and spoke beautifully from the heart, my little brother also said a little something, and then, I spoke at the end. I prepared a speech and everything, but no matter how cleverly you put words together, nobody really understands what it's like to lose a child unless you've experienced it.

I didn't cry the whole time. My eyes watered here and there, but I didn't start actually sobbing until I watched her casket being lowered in the ground. It was as if that particualr story had closed forever and there was nothing I could do to bring it back. Clover's story with me was just finished.

We all went to my dad's afterward to eat and spend time with each other. We all needed to move foreward. And that's what we were all trying to do, but... how was I supposed to get over something like that?

It was nice to hang out with family, but I just wish it was under better circumstances. Everything was just so utterly sad, even as I plasted a smile on my face. I didn't know how to talk about what I was feeling with anyone. I didn't know how to relate to anyone anymore. I just felt alone.

That night I went to a show with my brother and his best friend, where his friend was playing in front of people. It was good to get out and try to find some way of relaxing. It was good to be somewhere that the attention wasn't completely focused on me, where people weren't thinking of my sad story the whole time. I was trying to have a good time and also getting drunk a little. Then, his friend dedicated a song to me and it was beautifully worded. It explained how I felt about Clover, not about losing her, but the love I had for her. And I started bawling again.

That night when my brother helped me into the bathroom where I was dry heaving over the toilet, I admitted how I really felt about losing her for the first time. I was crying over the toilet and sobbed that I failed. My brother told me that I didn't, but I told him, "Yes, I did."

He helped me into bed and left.

I spent the next several months crying and trying to make it in the 'real world' again. I used to visualize myself jumping off of buildings, as horrible as that sounds. I just didn't know how to cope for a long while, but it eventually stopped being so hard to breathe. I stopped envisioning myself dying and I began to live once more.

Fast foreward five years into the future: I'm married with a toddler. It's interesting... amazing. I really thought there was no happy ending for me. I thought I'd never be able to try having children again. Losing Clover just hurt too much and I don't know if I could survive another loss like that. I didn't think I could ever try again because I understood what it was like when it goes terribly wrong. My husband is wonderful and treats me great. He's handsome and goofy and he truly loves me. I couldn't ask for a better man. Our son is amazing. It's hard to believe I could be so lucky sometimes. They've given me happiness in the absolute best ways and I am forever grateful to have them in my life.

Even with this alternate path of a different kind of happiness, Clover will always be a part of me. I still think about what it would be like if she were still here. I think about her growing up with her little brother and reading stories to him. I imagine them being great friends and growing up taking care of one another. I imagine them playing together and cuddling with me. I imagine my husband and her having a beautiful father daughter relationship together.

I always find myself imagining the 'what ifs' every now and then...

I just hope wherever she may be that she knows I survived. I'll always love her and she will always be my first child. I just want her to know that I'm officially okay now. I still find myself talking to her from time to time and I still visit her grave when I can. She will always be with me and my son will grow up knowing about her.

I love you, Clover Renee, forever and always. You'll always be in our hearts and I hope that you found peace wherever you may be.

To whomever reads this, I hope that you understand that no matter how bad things may get, you can always find your happily ever after. They don't have to exist solely in fairy tales. The really are quite obtainable.

Thanks for listening to my story.

I hope you all stay as well and as happy as can be.

~S. G. Marin

grief
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About the Creator

S. G. Marin

I'm optimistic, married, a mom, a writer, a reader, an artist. Being only thirty years young, I want to be a published author when I grow up. I hope to help heal the world with my words, for they are quite powerful when used correctly.

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