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Opening Up No. 3 (when I Was Thirteen)

Today I was informed that I will be able to sponsor my son's education, and medical expenses throughout his life, and with these great news in my mind, and a fabulous future to look forward to, the time has come to share this part of my story, that I had kept so well, and for so long.

From the age of seven on, my grandparents stopped abusing me, and I had many years of peace. Things were as good as could possible be, and I had the most normal childhood I could, counting my personal characteristics, and the fear that had become inherent to me. 

When I had just turned thirteen, the nightmare started again, in the shower. He showed up and raped me one day, and did so a couple of more times that same week. He didn't do it again, but I found out pretty soon I was pregnant. The news were sour sweet. It was another secret to have to be kept from everyone, another time he had abused and hurt me, but feeling the baby in me was also beautiful. We were linked immediately, and I have loved him ever since.

Hiding the pregnancy was not difficult, since at the time I was very skinny, and wore very over sized clothes. Also my family never paid much attention to me, or asked about my personal life, and the general environment of negligence made it possible to go as far as the 33rd week. I always knew he was a boy, and was very proud of him. Of course in my mind, I had no clue what would happen when he was finally born, but I dodn't think much of the future back then, so it didn't bother me, as long as I had my baby with me.

One day, I was having a relaxing bath while rubbing my nice tummy, and talking to my baby. Grandfather came inside and grabbed my head trying to drown me in the tub. He slipped and fell down, and I could get out and ask why he was doing that. He said he was very afraid because of the pregnancy, and because "you and I know that creature cannot be in this world, it would be indecent". Indecent? Wasn't it indecent what he did to me all my life? How this child was conceived? And he dares tell me that in the face, refering to my beloved son disparagingly. I slapped him, and asked him to shut up, and he was very enraged, and started beating me, and kicking my tummy on the floor hurting us both badly. 

When he saw blood, he got scared, wrapped me in a towel and drove me to the hospital, where my son was born, and of course he had been hurt during the beating. I have a picture holding him there, staring into his beautiful eyes, and feeling very proud of him. 

Afterwards, he took him, and I spent the night at the hospital. When I woke up, nurses, doctors, and him said the baby didn't survive, and gave me their condolences. I was of course devastated, I am still... remembering the awful feeling of losing my beloved child.

For me that was the absolute truth all these years, until recently I started reseraching about my past, trying to understand why so many horrible things happened, and found out my son is alive, and was adopted by a good family that loves and supports him. He needs lots of attention, since he developed a serious condition because of the violence he was exposed to, but knowing he is alive, after all these years feels so warm inside... 

sweetmeisje sweetmeisje 26-30, F 11 Responses Apr 9, 2010

Your Response



I'm so happy for you about your son good luck

im so sorry ....good luck with your son and God Bless

Thank you very much for reading my story Fotoshot :-)

Your story is so sad and yet so amazing. You are an amazing person. Your son will be very lucky to have you in his life someday.

Thank you for yous compassion and comment :-) I am so grateful you have taken the time to comment on my stories! One day I know I will meet my son when he is old enough to understand the world better, and I will hold him and kiss him like I never did before. I promised that to myself.

I think I like ya also! And I don't even have to play with the definition! Thank you sooo much for answering! I guess being wise AND extremely intelligent isn't mutually exclusive! 8-P

Thank you all for your comments. C.: I love you my dear, thank you for standing by me every time, and through it all, we will be very happy together, I promise. <br />
Icansee and Paco, thank you for your support and for taking the time to read.<br />
Bonocular, yours will be a longer response, since you asked several things:<br />
Do you relive these experiences when you tell them? My mind works in a very strange way, and the memories are there all the time, whether I want them or not. They are ordered well, though. It does help a lot to put them into words, because that way I take them out from the dark and secret place that my mind is, and expose them in a language anyone can see and understand.<br />
Do you write about them once, and then put them away in a safe place for a safe time to reread them? I just write them for them to mean something else than just hurt and betrayal inside me, the words for me have healing powers, and just transcribing my fears and feelings into them already works.<br />
Do you dare think a violent thought? Sometimes I do... either to punish myself, or because I feel to weak to maintain my poker face and attitude, and they haunt me, specially in the shower or in dreams.<br />
What happens when you get depressed? I am always depressed, of course, but I had an episode in my life, when my new born son died that I just lost myself. It took me six months to start living again. I became anorexic, and didn't speak to my husband or other children anymore, but every time I think about it, I just don't recognize myself in the person behind those acts.<br />
These thoughts may be inapproate, but do you even know how you have survived? I don't know what lies beneath my endless will and the things I have done to survive. I have never understood why I am incapable of hating, or feeling like having revenge, or why I have this loving energy in me... it is part of my nature I guess!


Do you relive these experiences when you tell them? Do you write about them once, and then put them away in a safe place for a safe time to reread them? Reading your experiences scares me. I don't quite know how else to say it.. I want to be careful and whisper soothing sounds into your world. I want to be reckless and scream myself into a coma for your sake so you can sleep. Do you dare think a violent thought? What happens when you get depressed? These thoughts may be inapproate, but do you even know how you have survived? Good thing though. You know your son fought for his life and he didn't even know the words. I won't go on but know I will rethink my definition of love. When I do, you will be part of it.

It is angering how evil people are in this world. Who the hell is the nightmare?! And your grandfather...God! He makes me MAD! <br />
<br />
On a more positive note...It is awesome that your doing good. When my sister died, my mom was in such a bad depression that she lost a year of her life. She can't remember a THING from then.