When I was four months pregnant we decided to take a ”baby moon” to Italy. One last hurrah before life as new parents took hold.
It was a beautiful trip along the Amalfi Coast, Sorrento, up to Rome...food, food and more food...an expectant mother's Utopia. As entrepreneurs we worked hard so we could play hard, and travelling was one of our favourite things to do.
Half way through the trip, Alex decided we should rent a Vespa and adventure out on the bustling (aka insane) Italian seaside motorways. I didn’t like the idea, truth be told I wouldn’t have liked it not being with child, and I certainly didn’t think it was a smart idea now. It was dangerous and the fumes were nauseating (I’m one of those lucky ones who are nauseous their entire pregnancy).
Despite my objection, Alex insisted we give it a try. We had met up with my sister and her boyfriend at this point of the trip, and I felt pressured not to be the party pooper...pregnant or not. Helmet and protruding belly secured, we heading off on our adventure. Me just praying that we would all survive and I could be done with apparent bucket list item.
Well as I’m sure you’ve guessed (otherwise why would I be writing about this excerpt from my life), we didn’t return to the Vespa rentals unscathed. After meeting a bus and one hair pin turn, our joy ride ended not so joyously. Turns out it’s not quite as easy to maneuver such a vehicle with a terrified, slightly green pregnant woman on the back.
Thankfully we were ok and returned to our hotel with our tails tucked between our legs....(well at least that’s how I felt for not speaking up in the first place).
What I thought would one day just make a funny story became one of the very first moments I knew I was in more than just a troubled relationship. Behind closed doors back at the hotel, Alex’s embarrassment from the accident turned to rage. It was all my fault, I had caused the crash, I hadn‘t leaned the way I was suppose to (as a bus almost took us completely out of the game).
”You fucking c$nt!”
I think time stood still for a moment. I hadn’t heard those words ever used towards me...not from an enemy let alone a friend, a lover, a husband, the father of my unborn child. I hadn’t used those words towards anyone, angry or not, it wasn’t apart of my vocabulary.
I was in shock, numb....it felt like the world had just collapsed on my pregnant shoulders miles away from home in a tiny Italian hotel room.
How could someone I loved, who was suppose to love me; call me such a hurtful name. I'm not sure if the yelling and swearing was louder that day from him, or the sound of my heart breaking. My sister was rooming next to us and to this day I’ve never asked her if she heard either.
I changed that day...the world became a little darker, I shrunk away a little more from the life around me. The first row of bricks in the wall that I would build over the next seven years around my daughter and I had been laid.
"I knew when I asked you to
Be cool about what I was telling you
You'd do the opposite of what you said you'd do
And I'd end up more afraid
Don't say it isn't fair
You clearly weren't aware that you
Made me miserable"
~B. Eilish
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