Chapter Seven: New Norms

I’m months into my marriage and pregnancy and I’m starting to feel isolated and alone. Maybe I’m not ready for marriage. The way I envisioned our marriage was completely different. I imagined/fantasized about us constantly in love and showering each other with praise and affection. Where I am now, I feel like property. I feel like I made a huge mistake.

We have been going to our church and got baptized together. My husband went full Pharisees on me. I need to ask for permission to wear makeup, and perfume, all of my heels were donated to Goodwill and I have to cover my body completely. Why might you ask? I am his wife and that’s how I have to dress. Oh and also, I have to look down when we are out. I am not allowed to make eye contact with men.

I am completely stressed out and depressed. I wish my parents could come and rescue me but I can’t go back. I did this to myself, I have to accept this new life. Could you imagine going back to my parent’s house divorced and pregnant after 4-5 months? Speaking of my parents, my relationship with my family and friends diminished with each day. I barely talk to them. I am stuck in this apartment every day since we only have one car now. I’m not allowed to go anywhere by myself. I'm suffocating and no one sees this.

One day my husband came home and I was laying on the couch because I had hyperemesis gravidarum and I was vomiting five times a day. He walked in and noticed one of the window curtains slightly moved to the left. “Why does the curtain look like this” he asked. “What do you mean?” I barely have any energy to get up”, I stated.

“I bet you saw something you liked out there. You can’t be out there dressing like a whore so you need to stare out the window for attention. When I met you, you dressed like a slut and because I ask you to dress like a modest, Christian woman you don’t like that.”, he said.

I then said, “fuck this, I’m calling my family, I’m not going to listen to you talk to me like this”.

He then grabbed my phone and threw it in the trash and asked where I thought I was going with his baby. Then said if the baby was his of course.

“Why do you treat me like this?” I asked. He stated “I don’t trust you. You don’t even remember the details of when you were raped. Which makes me question if you were or not. Obviously, if that’s how you were dressing what the fuck did you expect was going to happen to you. No one feels bad for you.”

I'm starting to shut down but then remembered I am pregnant and I need to stay calm for my baby, I stopped listening to him and his verbal diarrhea. I began to walk away while he was talking to me, which pissed him the hell off. He pushed me down and I fell on my side. He walked over and was above me. He told me to get my ass up. I stood up and he looked somewhat surprised. I asked him what he was looking at. He just walked away and didn't say anything. I walked to the bathroom and noticed I had a scratch on my face from the carpet. I began to cry because I felt helpless. I have no help and no one knows what I'm going through. I have a feeling it's only going to get worse. I have to find ways to protect myself. What’s crazy is that I still love this person and I can’t understand why I’m getting this kind of treatment.

I stayed in the bedroom and thought to myself this motherfucker must be bipolar or something. One day, he’s lovey-dovey and gets me things and asks if I’m having any cravings even though I vomit by sipping water and the next he is a devil who is now pushing me.

I’ll give it a few hours, he will be in to say sorry. I lay in our bed and I cried myself to sleep. I'm not sure how long I was sleeping but there he was caressing my hair. “Baby, are you asleep?”. I started to cry again and he wiped my tears, got on his knees, and said he was sorry for treating his wife and mother-to-be of his child like this. He stated he never envisioned our marriage to be this way but I withheld information from him which makes him angry at times. Moving forward, I won’t put my hands on you love. Let me make you something to eat.”

“Don’t you get it, I can’t eat anything. I am throwing everything up. I have not eaten in days” I said.

“Well something is going to have to give, you are going to hurt the baby. Force yourself to eat something. Or better yet, put some makeup on your face, I’m bringing you to the hospital. You’ve thrown up a lot”.

I got up, put some makeup on my face, got dressed, and went to the hospital. When I got there my doctor was a male, in military uniform and young. Fuck my life, here goes some bullshit. This trip, which was his idea turned from being about my well-being to oh, are you checking out your doctor and how he is helping you? My husband did all the talking. I made minimal eye contact and stated I was vomiting five times a day but okay other than that. I could feel his presence just staring me down as I spoke with the doctor. I decided to close my eyes and try to fall asleep instead. Can’t get in trouble if I’m sleeping. I got IV fluids and felt a little better afterward.

The car ride home. Take a wild guess what that conversation was about. “I don’t like how close he was to you”. I thought to myself, “ Well fucking duhhh, he’s a doctor. 🤦‍♀️”. I told him that had nothing to do with me and that I was tired. He said just be mindful and ask next time for a female doctor.

“It’s the emergency room, you don’t go there asking for your preference. You are there for an emergency.”, I said

“Well, if you were raped like you said you were, they will understand why you want a female doctor”, he replied.

I did not have the energy to continue to go back and forth with my husband who sounded so fucking stupid. I can just sense the bitterness brewing inside of me. I have to breathe for my son and find techniques to calm down because this behavior is a new norm for me.