Bad Girl House

In February of 2002, I suspected that I was pregnant with my second child. My system was normally right on time, and I wasn’t on birth control. I just had a gut feeling, and after a home pregnancy test, I had a definite answer. I had a sudden feeling of excitement that Jessica was going to have a younger brother or sister. It wasn’t long before I made my first trip to the local obstetrician. John made sure that he and Jessica came back from Ohio so they could go with me to the doctor’s office on a Saturday afternoon. Like many of the newer buildings in the area, this one was meant to look like a modern barn. It didn’t look like a doctor’s office, but more like a hardware store. The parking lot was completely full, as was the waiting room. It was a narrow room that spanned the front of the building. There was a row of chairs along both long walls that only left about three feet down the center. We were able to sit down once someone else’s name was called. It never took much time for John to become extremely impatient. He always had somewhere else to be, or something better he could be doing. Our wait was becoming so long that he even threatened to leave. That never made sense to me, because we would just be doing the same thing next time, which added up to more time spent waiting.

After John had sat for as long as he could possibly stand, which was in reality only thirty minutes, John informed me that he was going to take Jessica outside for a little bit. He also told me to find him when I was called. I sat for another ten minutes before I finally heard my name. I peeked out the window of the front door, but didn’t see John. The nurse said that he could ask to come to my room if he came back in. Knowing that he was already upset, I was nervous not to do what I had been specifically told. It was a typical doctor visit. First I was weighed and measured, my blood pressure was taken, and I peed in a cup. The nurse walked me to an exam room, and asked me to completely undress, providing me with a gown to put on. I sat on the edge of the exam table, still very worried about not having found John. The door to my room opened, and instead of the doctor, there he was with Jessica in his arms. He sat down in the chair in front of me, and like I figured he would be, was angry that I came back here without him. When he noticed my clothes on the chair beside him, his attention immediately turned to what I was wearing. He was absolutely livid that I had nothing on underneath my gown and no socks on my feet. He made it sound like I was sitting there with nothing to cover myself, totally exposed. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Remember, this was a man with two children, who you would assume knew what a regular visit to an obstetrician entailed. Dumbfounded, I told him that I did what the nurse had told me to do. That wasn’t a good enough reason for John.

“Get dressed and meet me in the truck. Now!” He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I had to make a decision. I didn’t want to leave the doctor’s office, because it was important for both me and the baby to have this check up. John was already upset with me, so how much more upset could he get if I stayed? I reminded myself that Jessica was out there waiting for me too. I knew that she would be fine, because if John hadn’t gotten upset, she would still be waiting. Weighing my options, I decided to stay, and deal with the consequences. A few times I questioned my decision, and almost started getting dressed.

The doctor finally came in. She did everything that I figured that she would. Nothing out of the ordinary. She asked how I was feeling, if I had had morning sickness during my first pregnancy. She performed the typical physical exam that goes along with early pregnancy. After an appointment that was over much more quickly than the preceding wait, I put rushed to put my clothes back on. I knew that I needed to hurry, but was not looking forward to the ride home.

I opened the door to the truck, and pulled myself into my seat.

“Don’t you dare say a word.” I could tell that this John’s jaw was clenched as he said this.

“I told you to follow me out of that exam room!” I didn’t know what else to do but stare down at my lap. Should I try to explain that I didn’t want to spend another afternoon doing this exact same thing?

“I waited another half an hour for you. I was out here with a baby, and all you could think about was yourself.” I wanted so badly to tell him that he was overreacting. There had been absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about this doctor visit. Everything had been completely normal, from the wait time to the dressing gown.

“You’re lucky that I didn’t leave without you! I almost did! Then what would you have done?” John put the truck in gear. Stones flew as he hit the gas pedal and the truck jerked backwards. It immediately jerked again as we moved forward. John pulled onto the road, not looking to see if it was clear.

“Don’t you have anything to say after what you just did?” I whispered that I was sorry, still looking down, and hanging my head.

“You’re sure going to be sorry.” The rest of the ride home was silent, but I felt like I could hear John’s angry thoughts. My head was full of his rage, and my confusion.

This was the first time that John’s unpredictable aggression had been directed at me with this much intensity. I had obviously seen it before, but this was different. I wasn’t only worried about not upsetting him, which was a usual worry, but I was know having another feeling. Seeing him this upset made me think about my physical safety. He had already planted the images in my mind of what he was capable of, not only with the stories of his past, but by witnessing his behavior.

As soon as we got home John started yelling at me again. He was furious that I seemed to have no problem stripping when told to by a nurse, but it took me so long to be undressed in front of him. He couldn’t separate the professional setting of a doctor’s office from the intimate nature of feeling comfortable like that with him. There was no way to explain the difference to him in that moment. He didn’t want to hear that no-one enjoys going to the doctor. He didn’t even care that my doctor had been a female. I was beginning to understand that he was seeing the exam that I just had as an intimate experience with another person. He was irrationally jealous of the doctor. This quickly turned into being questioned about my past again. It had been some time since John had brought this subject up, and know it was back with a vengeance. Now he was also relating it to the physical exam I had just had. In his mind, since it was so easy for me to undress for my doctor, it was impossible that I didn’t have any past romantic experience. I continued to stand by what I had said repeatedly in the past, but this time John’s pressing for the truth was even more persistent. After the usual questioning and intimidation, John did something that completely shocked me. He stopped and took a deep breath. He informed me that he was going to give me one final chance to be honest with him, and he promised not to get upset about anything I had to say. He was going to go rest in the bedroom to allow me to decide what I wanted to do. I heard the creek of the bed as he laid down. Even considering John’s promise, I wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was. The muscles around my eyes tightened as I sorted through every single option. If I kept the truth from him again, the questioning would undoubtedly continue. I wanted to believe that he wouldn’t get angry if I told him the truth. I would be able to explained why I felt like I needed to keep my past to myself. Telling the truth came with the problem of where to begin. Which truth would possibly bother John the least? I don’t know how much time had past before I figured out what I was going to say. I paced around the living room before I finally convinced myself to walk down the hall to where John was resting.

The natural sunlight coming through the bedroom window blanketed the room in a peaceful, pastel glow. John appeared to be asleep. I knelt down beside the bed. I had to say his name several times to wake him up. His eyes opened, he slowly turned his head, and he looked at me with no expression.

“Well? Do you have anything to say?” I almost changed my mind. I didn’t think that I could risk saying anything besides what I had always said. I reminded myself of his promise not to get upset, and barely whispered my answer.

“I did kiss someone.” John sat up in the bed, and asked me to repeat what I had said.

I was still kneeling on the floor, looking up at him.

“I did kiss someone.” The room’s peacefulness was immediately gone, along with John’s promise. The rage on John’s face was unmistakable. I had to jump out of the way to avoid his legs as he quickly got off of the bed.

“I can not believe you’ve been lying to me for five years! Even when I told you that I would divorce you if I ever found out! How dare you lie to me!”

With a finger in my face, John wanted to know every detail. In my mind I had no problem recalling those memories because they were special to me. He saw them as ammunition, as if I’d wronged him before I even knew him. John’s promise was his ploy to get me to tell him what he wanted to know. “You said that I could tell you, and you wouldn’t get upset.” I now had no time to decide whether to keep talking or attempt to convince him that what I said was the whole truth. In that moment the latter seemed like the best decision. If knowing about one kiss created that much anger what would any more information do? He was now armed with a tiny truth, that in his eyes proved that I was an untrustworthy liar. Over the next two day, before having to leave for Ohio again, John relentlessly continued to wear me down. This was the point when threats turned to action. I watched him angrily pull the lace out of one of his tennis shoes. He grabbed my foot and weaved the laces around my toes. He was going to pull the lace as tightly as he could if I didn’t talk. I had no choice but to agree to talk. The details don’t even matter any more. What does matter is that I was made to feel like what I had done was awful and disgusting things. Each time he felt that there was more to a story the lace tightened a bit more. The lace was eventually loosened and I was left alone in the bedroom. What I felt was not relief. It was an intensity of the fear that already existed.

John returned to the room. Without saying a word he forced himself on me in a way that I had repeatedly refused. It was an act of anger and control. I gripped the sheets, silently crying. He made sure that it was painful. I was told that that was all a whore like me deserved, and that it was the only way he would have sex. He shoved me away from him when he was done.

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John soon left for Ohio again. His absence began to be filled with the dread of his return. During a phone call, his line of questioning turned to the baby growing inside of me. He asked if it was actually his. He said that I could have cheated on him while he was in Ohio? I was floored by the accusation. Despite my completely honest answer, John now heard the answer of a liar with a promiscuous past. He knew that I had a doctor’s appointment coming up for severe allergies I was having since morning to Virginia. I heard his cold voice tell me to ask the doctor about terminating the pregnancy with the abortion pill. I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t have heard him correctly.

“You will ask her.” I was kneeling on the floor in front of the phone. I closed my eyes and bowed my head with the phone still pressed to my ear. “Do you hear me? You will do what I told you to do.”

I can see myself sitting in the doctor’s office as if I was outside of my body. I knew that I had to ask her about the pill so that I had something real to tell John. I couldn’t think about nothing else as the doctor talked to me about allergies. My appointment was coming to an end, and the doctor asked me if I had any questions. I forced the words out of my mouth.

The next time that I talked to John I had to give him the answer. That doctor was a family practitioner, so she wasn’t able to prescribe that if I decided that I wanted it. It may have been possible for a gynecologist in one of the larger towns nearby to help me. She already knew that the local obstetrician that I’d seen didn’t prescribe it either. For the time being John didn’t push me to look into the matter any further.

“Put your hands on the counter, and do not move. I’ll put an end to this pregnancy myself, and that will be the end of it.” John believed that kneeing me in the stomach would cause a miscarriage. “Do you really think that you’re having this baby after lying to me the way you did?” He also believed that I would stand still and allow him to do it. My entire body flinched each time he was about to pull his leg back. His knee met my thigh as I turned away from him during one failed attempt. Each time I moved he became more angry. One last time, he walked me to the kitchen counter. "This is going to happen.” He was behind me with his arms around my middle, having to push me to the counter. I had enough awareness to raise my arms, and slide out of his grip onto the floor. Furious that I had gotten loose, he pulled me back up by my arm. “Don’t you ever to that again.” He walked away. I sat back down on the floor and wept as I folded my arms around my belly.

My next appointment was with the obstetrician. We were still having another baby.