My life was really changing. I was really changing. I had started gaining understanding of things that most people learned in their younger years. My brain had been sober for longer than it ever had been since I was 11 years old. No alcohol or substance of any kind for four months straight. My brain was healing.....it was no longer confused and looking for something to balance it out. I was healing. I was growing up. I had a new found confidence.....something that had never existed before. A confidence in myself....not in who I was fucking or who wanted to fuck me. I did, however, start talking with a guy (another client) and pushing things a little far. Other than that, though, I was starting to make good decisions for myself. I was able to not be swayed in the wrong direction by other clients. I was able to say no. I remember one evening some girls and I were painting our nails and we got to talking and being silly. We laughed so hard that night our stomachs hurt. I remember one girl said "Hey, do you guys realize that we have been laughing, smiling, and talking all night, and we are sober? Like, we are really happy!". It was such a cool moment. We weren't laughing because we got high. We were laughing and having fun because we were happy. I felt so normal. I never thought I could be happy without heroin. I was wrong. I was starting to think about goals. Plans for when I was ready to get back out into the real world. But I had one more obstacle to face. I needed to get through my daughter's death, sober. Which basically meant I needed to relive my biggest trauma with a completely sober mind.
I walk into my counselors office and sit down. "Are you ready to go visit Poppy's grave?". I look down at my feet. I'm wearing my room mates 'Coach' shoes. Do all the 'C's' line up the same? Are they knock offs? No....they are genuine....they all meet in the same place and same direction. "Can I bring a friend with me?". I ask her. "Would that help you?". She asks me. I don't know.....I doubt it...."yes"... I tell her. "I don't want to go today". She tells me it will be in a week or two...that we have to get approval first and get all the details worked out. "Last time we spoke you told me about the day your daughter was born, shall we continue?"
*****Looking down at this beautiful little baby girl in my arms filled my heart with hope. Collette and Holly were so happy and they adored her immidiately. Damion held her and loved on her and was very proud of our little 6 lb bundle. She took to nursing right off the bat and was a very good baby. I felt happy. Damion had been attentive during labor and birth. He was kind and sweet. Friends and family came and my boss from the Dr. Office. It felt safe and normal....just like every other family. When it was time to take her home from the hospital the girls were with their grandma so Damion and I got her in the carseat and packed up and headed home. I was exhausted but so overjoyed. Just like any new mother. As I'm telling my counselor all of this I am realizing that I am having a hard time with my memory. This is a part of my life that I blocked....hid from myself for so long. I remember on the way home from the hospital I was feeling very relaxed. Damion had been very kind to my friends and family...and very kind to me and my girls. My family had also been kind to him....and though I knew this did not mean acceptance on either part, my brain had tricked myself into believing that everything was good. Babies have that affect, right? They bring family closer together.....they solve problems. All though I still to this day cannot remember what happened, I do remember that things went down hill very rapidly before we got home. I was talking about something and whatever it was, it set Damion off. I was sitting in the back seat by the baby. It was almost like that first time he had squeezed me real hard when we went on that walk when we first got together. It was out of no where and left me completely shocked and confused. All of a sudden he was yelling at me. Then he was calling me names.....then he was threatning me. I remember my heart literally feeling like it was slowly being ripped in half. My daughter wasn't even a day old and she was hearing her mommy being called a dumb bitch and hearing Damions horribly mean tone and loud intimidating voice. I didn't say another word. I sat in the back seat and tried to wipe my tears away as quickly as they formed. I remember dread consuming me in that moment. This baby is his. What did I do? What did I bring this innocent baby into? He couldn't touch my girls.....but this girl....this little tiny baby girl was his.......
That evening at home he asked me how long he had to wait to have sex. I told him what my Dr told me....6ish weeks. He apparently did not like that answer. When I went to bed that night with my new baby in my arms, he made me have sex with him. The pain was unreal. And again, I found myself wiping up my tears and trying to smile down at my baby so she wouldn't sense anything was wrong, but something was so wrong. I couldn't control the tears nearly as well as I had on the car ride home. It was not only physically unbearable, emotionally it did something to me. It was the ultimate disrespect to me as a person, as a woman, as a new mother.....I was humiliated and enraged at the same time. My body started convulsing....I think out of shock. That pissed him off. I know, I know....how is he supposed to get off if I act like I'm getting hurt all the time....I'm sorry. I layed there and gritted my teeth, cried, and I saw red. Dude.....FUCK YOU! He said it felt good because I was all swollen from having a baby. (Just a few hours ago)
The next morning my girls came home. They held their baby sister and played with her. They were both natural little Mama's. Poppy gave them a joy in their lives that they hadn't had at home in a long time. They loved her so much. I went to sit down on the couch and felt something wet. I looked down and the entire couch cushion was bright red. I stood up and blood gushed everywhere....it looked like someone had been massacred in less than 60 seconds. I was hemorrhaging. It wouldn't stop. As soon as I put a pad on (a huge having a baby hospital pad) it was soaked before I left the bathroom. I was in so much pain. I called my Dr and I called my mother. My Dr told me to immidiatly go to the ER. My mom came over and picked me and baby up and rushed us over there. I knew what the cause of this was......but I didn't tell a soul. I was admitted upon arrival. They could not stop the bleeding. I was losing way too much blood. They were talking about a blood transfusion and giving me pills and IVs. Damion showed up and I remember they asked him his blood type. He was a match. They took him down to have him give blood. I will never forget the horror my mind felt while I was laying their dying with my infant in my arms thinking "They are going to put Damions blood in my veins. Please no!!!!! I don't want satans blood coursing through my veins. He caused this!!!!!". I was given a time frame....if the pills didn't work by a certain time then it was a blood transfusion. I layed there and willed my body to stop bleeding. I'm sure that's not why, but I finally started slowing down just minutes before the cut off. Big sigh of relief. I didn't die and I didn't have evil blood in my veins. I stayed a couple nights to make sure it didn't start again and to heal. No sex for 12 weeks. Damion is nodding his head and telling the Dr "absolutely". I'm thinking in my head....maybe 12 HOURS. I remember thinking in that hospital bed.....I have to get strong. I cannot die and let him raise my daughter. It can't happen. My girls would go to my mother, but my baby would go to Damion. Not fucking happening.
Things got worse with the abuse and sexual assualt. They got worse and worse and worse. I was covered in bruises all the time. I had started getting a little bit stronger as far as standing up for myself. I never fought back when things got physical...and I always knew my limits on trying to be tough. I was starting to know that I was a battered woman. (I know......that sounds so stupid....but when you're in it you make excuses for him so much that you actually believe yourself sometimes.). I was sending pictures to my mom of my bruises and injuries and having her write times and dates down at this point. If I was to leave I would make sure I got my daughter.
We were getting ready for his parents to come over for dinner one night and we started fighting......I was allready bruised from a couple nights before, but he had been threatning me all evening. I told him I was going to tell his parents what he does to me when they came for dinner. I waited til right before they got there to announce that for obvious reasons. He had been telling me that if I leave he is keeping Poppy and if I make up lies to his family about abuse they will know I am lying because they allready all know how crazy I am. He told me I was a horrible mother since day one...and that no one would ever let me take our baby with me if I left. His parents came over and it was such a tense night. Damion kept saying things that were directed at me in secret with a huge smile on his face...daring me to have the nerve to follow through with my threat. My heart was pounding all evening.....I kept getting tears....I wanted to tell someone so bad. I knew if I didn't that night when they left would be severe. He did the mocking thing again and the way his eyes met mine told me I had to do it now....or I may not make it to see tomorrow. I got up and very awkwardly asked his mom to come up stairs with me. "Whatchya doin?...." I ignore him. He jumps up and follows us upstairs. I burst into tears and tell her that he's beating me. I was terrified. This could go okay or really not okay. He didn't fully admit to it but enough to where they didn't leave me with him that night. He left with them to stay at their house. He didn't come back the next day....or the next. He never came back to that house to live. He moved into a home that his family had been fixing up for us. (It wasn't ready yet, but he moved in during construction) After a few days as usual I missed him. I started going over to the house and watching the progress. He would come stay the night with me at the townhouse. Of course along with nights away from each other came accusations and jealousy from him. Not once in our entire relationship did I dare even look in another guy's direction. But if I somehow was busy with an infant and two children and couldn't answer a phone call I was cheating. One morning after a night of me fucking some guy all night over and over, (in Damions delusional mind) I was in my house holding Poppy (the girls were at school) and Damion comes barging through the front door. I run to the entrance to see what the noise was and he doesn't stop. His eyes.......fuck. Hand around throat and continues walking (fast) . My feet are dragging on the ground as I'm trying to get footing and walk backwards as fast as I can and hold Poppy without dropping or hurting her. I hit a wall.....my vision goes black for a second. He takes my baby out of my arms. Noooooo! Please noooo! I don't know what he does with her but comes back grabs me by the throat and throws me down on the living room floor. "Today's the day you die". He says. That smile....those eyes.....his eyes are black. Hes choking me. I'm thinking about him raising my sweet baby girl and trying to breath under the pressure of both of his hands. He's yelling something and gets up off of me and rips the DVD player out of the wall, drags it by the cord up my body and wraps the cord around my neck. He's fucking smiling. He pulls tighter and tighter and the last thing I see is his smile.
I wake up and have no idea what happened. I'm in a fog. Why am I laying on the floor? I look to the side and my baby is laying on the floor. I jump up and quickly remember by the pain what happened. Where is Damion? What do I do? My legs are bleeding....from the DVD player being raked across my body....my neck....I start having a hard time breathing. I pick up my baby and run to peek outside to see if his truck is there. No, it's not. I run to my neighbor's house as fast as I can and tell her to take Poppy. I wasn't thinking clearly or I would have probably gotten in my car and driven away. She took Poppy and I went back home. I don't remember what happened next. This isn't what I want this blog to be about. What I wish it was about is me remembering and telling you how much fun the girls and I had with our sweet Poppy. I wish I could tell you memories I have of my sweet baby girl. But I can't. I only have a few select memories and some of them are based off of pictures I have.
One memory I can tell you is that when she was 10 months old there used to be a commercial on TV that played the song "New Soul" by Yael Naim. Poppy loved that song. Every time the commercial came on she would stop what she was doing and go right up to the tv and do this little dance. She would clasp her hands together and raise them up and down and spin in a circle. She had the most beautiful little smile. I remember when the girls and I started feeding her baby food for the first time. I remember she was in her bouncer and we took turns giving her bites. We laughed so much and sent my mom pictures. She loved the food and did this funny little thing with her tongue. I remember sitting on the back porch and rocking her and her looking up at all my wind chimes. She would talk to them and smile. She was a sweet little girl that brought joy into a joyless household.
You know what comes next. I went back.
I had had enough counseling for the moment. I couldn't think of anything else to say. I couldn't even barely remember my own daughter. And the two I still had, I had betrayed in the biggest way. And in all reality, I had betrayed all three of them. How could I carry this weight.....this burden? Everything.....all of this was all my fault. The drugs, the violence, the relationships, I said yes to all of it. Three innocent lives (four) were damaged beyond repair because of me. I couldn't bear talking about any of this anymore. Maybe some things are just too big to come back from. Maybe heroin really was my best friend. Maybe all of this getting clean bullshit wasn't my ending after all. How could I go on from this? Sober? I had been feeling so good. Feeling so happy and thankful about my relationship with Collette and Holly. But facing this......what I had done.......I didn't deserve Collette and Holly's love and support. I went to bed and could think of nothing but shoving a needle in my arm. The last needle, A load way too big for me so that the last thing I felt before I died would be......nothing. After all of this progress. I felt completely hopeless and completely sick. It was a nice thought....me getting clean and living a happy normal life with my girls.....but the truth was that I deserved to die. I had killed my own daughter.
I walk into my counselors office and sit down. "Are you ready to go visit Poppy's grave?". I look down at my feet. I'm wearing my room mates 'Coach' shoes. Do all the 'C's' line up the same? Are they knock offs? No....they are genuine....they all meet in the same place and same direction. "Can I bring a friend with me?". I ask her. "Would that help you?". She asks me. I don't know.....I doubt it...."yes"... I tell her. "I don't want to go today". She tells me it will be in a week or two...that we have to get approval first and get all the details worked out. "Last time we spoke you told me about the day your daughter was born, shall we continue?"
*****Looking down at this beautiful little baby girl in my arms filled my heart with hope. Collette and Holly were so happy and they adored her immidiately. Damion held her and loved on her and was very proud of our little 6 lb bundle. She took to nursing right off the bat and was a very good baby. I felt happy. Damion had been attentive during labor and birth. He was kind and sweet. Friends and family came and my boss from the Dr. Office. It felt safe and normal....just like every other family. When it was time to take her home from the hospital the girls were with their grandma so Damion and I got her in the carseat and packed up and headed home. I was exhausted but so overjoyed. Just like any new mother. As I'm telling my counselor all of this I am realizing that I am having a hard time with my memory. This is a part of my life that I blocked....hid from myself for so long. I remember on the way home from the hospital I was feeling very relaxed. Damion had been very kind to my friends and family...and very kind to me and my girls. My family had also been kind to him....and though I knew this did not mean acceptance on either part, my brain had tricked myself into believing that everything was good. Babies have that affect, right? They bring family closer together.....they solve problems. All though I still to this day cannot remember what happened, I do remember that things went down hill very rapidly before we got home. I was talking about something and whatever it was, it set Damion off. I was sitting in the back seat by the baby. It was almost like that first time he had squeezed me real hard when we went on that walk when we first got together. It was out of no where and left me completely shocked and confused. All of a sudden he was yelling at me. Then he was calling me names.....then he was threatning me. I remember my heart literally feeling like it was slowly being ripped in half. My daughter wasn't even a day old and she was hearing her mommy being called a dumb bitch and hearing Damions horribly mean tone and loud intimidating voice. I didn't say another word. I sat in the back seat and tried to wipe my tears away as quickly as they formed. I remember dread consuming me in that moment. This baby is his. What did I do? What did I bring this innocent baby into? He couldn't touch my girls.....but this girl....this little tiny baby girl was his.......
That evening at home he asked me how long he had to wait to have sex. I told him what my Dr told me....6ish weeks. He apparently did not like that answer. When I went to bed that night with my new baby in my arms, he made me have sex with him. The pain was unreal. And again, I found myself wiping up my tears and trying to smile down at my baby so she wouldn't sense anything was wrong, but something was so wrong. I couldn't control the tears nearly as well as I had on the car ride home. It was not only physically unbearable, emotionally it did something to me. It was the ultimate disrespect to me as a person, as a woman, as a new mother.....I was humiliated and enraged at the same time. My body started convulsing....I think out of shock. That pissed him off. I know, I know....how is he supposed to get off if I act like I'm getting hurt all the time....I'm sorry. I layed there and gritted my teeth, cried, and I saw red. Dude.....FUCK YOU! He said it felt good because I was all swollen from having a baby. (Just a few hours ago)
The next morning my girls came home. They held their baby sister and played with her. They were both natural little Mama's. Poppy gave them a joy in their lives that they hadn't had at home in a long time. They loved her so much. I went to sit down on the couch and felt something wet. I looked down and the entire couch cushion was bright red. I stood up and blood gushed everywhere....it looked like someone had been massacred in less than 60 seconds. I was hemorrhaging. It wouldn't stop. As soon as I put a pad on (a huge having a baby hospital pad) it was soaked before I left the bathroom. I was in so much pain. I called my Dr and I called my mother. My Dr told me to immidiatly go to the ER. My mom came over and picked me and baby up and rushed us over there. I knew what the cause of this was......but I didn't tell a soul. I was admitted upon arrival. They could not stop the bleeding. I was losing way too much blood. They were talking about a blood transfusion and giving me pills and IVs. Damion showed up and I remember they asked him his blood type. He was a match. They took him down to have him give blood. I will never forget the horror my mind felt while I was laying their dying with my infant in my arms thinking "They are going to put Damions blood in my veins. Please no!!!!! I don't want satans blood coursing through my veins. He caused this!!!!!". I was given a time frame....if the pills didn't work by a certain time then it was a blood transfusion. I layed there and willed my body to stop bleeding. I'm sure that's not why, but I finally started slowing down just minutes before the cut off. Big sigh of relief. I didn't die and I didn't have evil blood in my veins. I stayed a couple nights to make sure it didn't start again and to heal. No sex for 12 weeks. Damion is nodding his head and telling the Dr "absolutely". I'm thinking in my head....maybe 12 HOURS. I remember thinking in that hospital bed.....I have to get strong. I cannot die and let him raise my daughter. It can't happen. My girls would go to my mother, but my baby would go to Damion. Not fucking happening.
Things got worse with the abuse and sexual assualt. They got worse and worse and worse. I was covered in bruises all the time. I had started getting a little bit stronger as far as standing up for myself. I never fought back when things got physical...and I always knew my limits on trying to be tough. I was starting to know that I was a battered woman. (I know......that sounds so stupid....but when you're in it you make excuses for him so much that you actually believe yourself sometimes.). I was sending pictures to my mom of my bruises and injuries and having her write times and dates down at this point. If I was to leave I would make sure I got my daughter.
We were getting ready for his parents to come over for dinner one night and we started fighting......I was allready bruised from a couple nights before, but he had been threatning me all evening. I told him I was going to tell his parents what he does to me when they came for dinner. I waited til right before they got there to announce that for obvious reasons. He had been telling me that if I leave he is keeping Poppy and if I make up lies to his family about abuse they will know I am lying because they allready all know how crazy I am. He told me I was a horrible mother since day one...and that no one would ever let me take our baby with me if I left. His parents came over and it was such a tense night. Damion kept saying things that were directed at me in secret with a huge smile on his face...daring me to have the nerve to follow through with my threat. My heart was pounding all evening.....I kept getting tears....I wanted to tell someone so bad. I knew if I didn't that night when they left would be severe. He did the mocking thing again and the way his eyes met mine told me I had to do it now....or I may not make it to see tomorrow. I got up and very awkwardly asked his mom to come up stairs with me. "Whatchya doin?...." I ignore him. He jumps up and follows us upstairs. I burst into tears and tell her that he's beating me. I was terrified. This could go okay or really not okay. He didn't fully admit to it but enough to where they didn't leave me with him that night. He left with them to stay at their house. He didn't come back the next day....or the next. He never came back to that house to live. He moved into a home that his family had been fixing up for us. (It wasn't ready yet, but he moved in during construction) After a few days as usual I missed him. I started going over to the house and watching the progress. He would come stay the night with me at the townhouse. Of course along with nights away from each other came accusations and jealousy from him. Not once in our entire relationship did I dare even look in another guy's direction. But if I somehow was busy with an infant and two children and couldn't answer a phone call I was cheating. One morning after a night of me fucking some guy all night over and over, (in Damions delusional mind) I was in my house holding Poppy (the girls were at school) and Damion comes barging through the front door. I run to the entrance to see what the noise was and he doesn't stop. His eyes.......fuck. Hand around throat and continues walking (fast) . My feet are dragging on the ground as I'm trying to get footing and walk backwards as fast as I can and hold Poppy without dropping or hurting her. I hit a wall.....my vision goes black for a second. He takes my baby out of my arms. Noooooo! Please noooo! I don't know what he does with her but comes back grabs me by the throat and throws me down on the living room floor. "Today's the day you die". He says. That smile....those eyes.....his eyes are black. Hes choking me. I'm thinking about him raising my sweet baby girl and trying to breath under the pressure of both of his hands. He's yelling something and gets up off of me and rips the DVD player out of the wall, drags it by the cord up my body and wraps the cord around my neck. He's fucking smiling. He pulls tighter and tighter and the last thing I see is his smile.
I wake up and have no idea what happened. I'm in a fog. Why am I laying on the floor? I look to the side and my baby is laying on the floor. I jump up and quickly remember by the pain what happened. Where is Damion? What do I do? My legs are bleeding....from the DVD player being raked across my body....my neck....I start having a hard time breathing. I pick up my baby and run to peek outside to see if his truck is there. No, it's not. I run to my neighbor's house as fast as I can and tell her to take Poppy. I wasn't thinking clearly or I would have probably gotten in my car and driven away. She took Poppy and I went back home. I don't remember what happened next. This isn't what I want this blog to be about. What I wish it was about is me remembering and telling you how much fun the girls and I had with our sweet Poppy. I wish I could tell you memories I have of my sweet baby girl. But I can't. I only have a few select memories and some of them are based off of pictures I have.
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| Me, Poppy (3 months), Holly (10 yrs), Collette (12 yrs), and cousin Dylan (8 yrs) |
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| Me & Poppy (13 months) |
One memory I can tell you is that when she was 10 months old there used to be a commercial on TV that played the song "New Soul" by Yael Naim. Poppy loved that song. Every time the commercial came on she would stop what she was doing and go right up to the tv and do this little dance. She would clasp her hands together and raise them up and down and spin in a circle. She had the most beautiful little smile. I remember when the girls and I started feeding her baby food for the first time. I remember she was in her bouncer and we took turns giving her bites. We laughed so much and sent my mom pictures. She loved the food and did this funny little thing with her tongue. I remember sitting on the back porch and rocking her and her looking up at all my wind chimes. She would talk to them and smile. She was a sweet little girl that brought joy into a joyless household.
You know what comes next. I went back.
I had had enough counseling for the moment. I couldn't think of anything else to say. I couldn't even barely remember my own daughter. And the two I still had, I had betrayed in the biggest way. And in all reality, I had betrayed all three of them. How could I carry this weight.....this burden? Everything.....all of this was all my fault. The drugs, the violence, the relationships, I said yes to all of it. Three innocent lives (four) were damaged beyond repair because of me. I couldn't bear talking about any of this anymore. Maybe some things are just too big to come back from. Maybe heroin really was my best friend. Maybe all of this getting clean bullshit wasn't my ending after all. How could I go on from this? Sober? I had been feeling so good. Feeling so happy and thankful about my relationship with Collette and Holly. But facing this......what I had done.......I didn't deserve Collette and Holly's love and support. I went to bed and could think of nothing but shoving a needle in my arm. The last needle, A load way too big for me so that the last thing I felt before I died would be......nothing. After all of this progress. I felt completely hopeless and completely sick. It was a nice thought....me getting clean and living a happy normal life with my girls.....but the truth was that I deserved to die. I had killed my own daughter.
I love you Missy. I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you. Kiss all the kids for me. Love you
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