I read somewhere that in every life, a little rain must fall to make it more interesting and meaningful. But I caused a thunderstorm in my husband’s life three years ago. A thunderstorm that he still has no clue about.
My husband is a businessman and I’m a piano teacher. We have 3 boys and 2 girls. The children are very close in age, which is no surprise as I was popping them out yearly. By the time my fifth arrived, I knew I had enough. I begged my husband to go for a vasectomy but being the pig-headed fellow that he is, he refused. I realised that birth control pills were going to be the only things that could save my sanity.
At first, I had no idea I was pregnant. My husband and I are social butterflies and almost every Saturday, we are at a dinner function or party or some sort of get-together. Anyway, after one such Saturday, we were both a little tipsy from the drinks served and my husband’s good friend dropped us off. After checking (or at least that’s what I think we did) on the children, we managed to get onto the second floor and turn the corner into our bedroom. One thing led to another and soon we were asleep with the occasional teenage giggling between us.
Around 2 months later, I started throwing up regularly and feeling moody. Now I’ve had this 5 times before so I knew where this was headed. Nevertheless, I took a pregnancy test to confirm. Massive hysteria upon realisation!! I couldn’t believe it was happening for the sixth time! I still remember my maid staring at me as I cursed in different dialects (thankfully my husband and children were not at home). I started to cry uncontrollably and hit my stomach. This shouldn’t and couldn’t be happening. I barely had enough time for myself with the 5 monsters already present!
I knew my husband was going to be adamant about keeping the child if I told him. He always had mentioned that 6 was his lucky number and always prayed we would have another child just to round up the 5 to a 6. Also, being a staunch Catholic and a big believer in big families, there was no way he was going to give this child up for adoption or anything else. I knew I didn’t want this child and I had to get rid of it myself. So I stood at the top of my stairs and looked down. I placed myself at the tip of the top stair and closed my eyes. Before my body could move backwards, I stopped. I wasn’t that strong.IN Mums, Pregnancy - Abortion | September 18, 2012