Typical! He'd always avoided hospital visits, citing job concerns, but now he's suddenly proactive.
I met my parents, elated, even grabbing a coffee before they arrived. Blissfully, I headed home, watching him smile as he said goodbye to my parents.
And then.
As soon as the elevator door closed, he snapped, grabbing my hair and slamming my head against it.
My scream was met with a flurry of slaps that left me reeling.
He dragged me to the bathroom, thrusting my head into the toilet.
The bleach mixed with the sewage stench filled my senses, choking me, and stealing my breath.
He held me down methodically, letting me up only when I seemed about to pass out, then submerging me again whenever I caught a breath.
"This is what you get for betraying me, you cheater! Thought you could make a fool of me? Go to hell!"
In the end, I was barely conscious, discarded by him.
It seemed to make him pleased. He kicked my head against the corner and walked away in disgust.
I regained consciousness still in the bathroom.
Drenched and bloodied, with my stomach painfully contracting.
As I stood up, the bloodstains on the wall reminded me of the previous night's horror.
I had to call the police.
Driven by instinct, I dialed 911.
What's next after calling for help? Preserve the scene, and save the evidence.
Trembling, I snapped photos of the blood on the wall and my injuries, lifting my clothes to document the bruises.
My leg throbbed to the bone as if broken, the sharp pain overshadowing all else.
Lying on the floor all night in the heat, I felt nauseous, my stomach in knots, fearing critters might have scurried over me.
Stop, that thought alone made me want to throw up.
I propped myself up against the toilet, clutching my roiling stomach, desperate to use it but I couldn't.
I feared it'd clear the fingerprints on it.
I endured until the police arrived.
Thankfully, a female officer was there. I clung to her, pleading to use a public restroom.
I passed out again.
The officer who helped me to the hospital said I fell due to standing up too quickly.
The hospital staff noticed my condition and fought to save my unborn child.
I managed a weak smile.
This was the same hospital where my infertility journey began.
Without their reminder, I had almost forgotten about my pregnancy.
Another doctor came in, handed some documents to the officer, and asked me a few questions.