When Love and Life Begins . . . Non-Fiction, a story of love. 

Our love affair was blinding. The heat of our passion swept us off our feet and threw us into a marriage that would decline as fast as it came to be. Our first child was born exactly nine months after our wedding day. A lovely child, so full of life, vim and vigor – and that’s all the children she wanted, her words. 

Her decision to terminate her second pregnancy was made for nefarious reasons. It was difficult to wake up that morning. The trip to the clinic in New Orleans would test my patience like it had never been tested before. 'Play along' is what I kept telling myself. An argument now would not help this situation at all. She was a defensive one, that woman. 

I drove quietly, keeping conversation to a minimum. “You’re not saying much. I thought that you would be raising hell.”  “You don’t have to do this. We have options.” “I can’t raise another child with you! I’m only six weeks along, anyway. It’s not even human yet.” 

The scene at the clinic was surreal. Picketers lined the sidewalks, supervised by police officers. All I could do was to keep my eyes averted and walk towards the clinic as the crowd chanted. “It’s murder! You’re killing a child!” Suddenly, a woman stepped directly in front of us, stopping me in my tracks. “Please don’t do it. Don’t kill the child. Kill me instead!” “Lady, I’ll never forget you as long as I live", I wept.

The procedure didn’t take long. A few well placed inserts to dilate the uterus and we were back into the crowd. One woman made a persuasive attempt by speaking softly to us.“Stop for a minute. Let’s talk”. “Fuck off,” replied my wife. “I’ll pray for you”, replied the protester. 

The trip home was unbearable.“One more child isn’t going to break us. I’ll raise the child and give you anything that you need to get on with your life.” “Don’t you think it’s a little late now?”  “No. There’s a hospital in Raceland. They can reverse the procedure."

After a dead silence that seemingly lingered for hours, her words brought me back to life. "Okay, let's go." 

The admitting nurse listened as if in shock, her mouth agape..She quickly left us and returned with a doctor who had an urgent look about him. He greeted us with a genuine look of compassion. He took my wife into an exam room immediately and returned minutes later. "Thank you both for coming here today. And about your bill, it’s on me”.

My baby was born three (3) months premature. She was no bigger than one palm could hold. After three harrowing months in the hospital nursery, my baby went home with my wife and her new boyfriend, who visited the nursery three (3) times in three (3) months. The wonderful nurses were appalled. Working nights, I visited most every day that my exhaustion would allow. My poor baby was diagnosed as “developmentally delayed”, whatever the hell that meant.

FOUR YEARS LATER 

Sadly, my wife's boyfriend committed suicide, relinquishing her of her pro bono attorney. A custody battle ensued shortly after our divorce, where I was victorious.

Now a single parent of two, and exhausted from my night job, I felt her little thumb raising my eyelid. “Wake up, daddy. It’s Saturday. We go to the pool today. It’s a happy day, daddy." 

As I looked at her with her little bathing suit on, floaties around her wrists, and flip-flops on the wrong feet, “Yes, it is a happy day, sweetie. They all are . . ."  

"Let's go swimming, baby girls! Last one in the pool is a rotten egg!"