My Nonprofit Reviews
Review for Break the Silence Against Domestic Violence Inc., Colorado Springs, CO, USA
I seen the ad for grants of hope on Facebook one day, decided hey what do I have to loose. I filled out the application and weeks went by never heard anything. Then all of a sudden I had an amazing conversation with Sheila, we clicked instantly and the process had started. Now I am trying to figure out how I can ever repay you for the amazing knowledge and kindness everyone has shown my family and myself.
Here is my story:
It was late and I woke him up, I knew I should not have done that, but I needed the sixty dollars I loaned him so that I could pay the eclectic bill tomorrow. A huge fight started and we ended up in the hallway with his hands around my throat. That is where it all began and how I wish that is where I let it end. Of course days go by and he acts as if nothing happens, brings me flowers and even bought me a ring a few months later. I was so young and naïve I had no idea this is not what love was supposed to be like.
Weeks go by and we find out we are pregnant! How exciting, we start picking out names together and we both know it is a girl. Just a hunch I guess, we picked the name Zayna, it means Beautiful. This is where things really start to go south. I was so tired during this pregnancy, and any time I would take a nap and did not respond to his text right away I would wake up to horrible nasty ones. Calling me names like “Stupid C*nt” He thought that I was cheating on him or I don’t know what.
Later that month we had gotten into a physical fight and he had tried taken the ring off my finger. I ended up in the Hospital. He was arrested and stupid me, let him come home after he got out of jail. I even called his PO begging for him to be able to come home for the holidays. Sometimes I still think back and wonder if I had stayed away from him if our baby would still be alive.
The end of January it was the worst it had ever been, I replay it in my head all the time. It is like a movie and I cannot find the remote to press stop or the cord to unplug it. I was basically a rag doll that he just tossed around the whole room, lifeless. Once I finally got him locked out of the apartment he sat outside the front door and slit his wrist from his hand all the way up to his elbow. Texting me the whole time saying that he was bleeding for me.
The next few weeks were sort of fuzzy for me at this point, but on Valentine’s Day we had a doctor’s appointment to hear the baby’s heart beat for the first time. The doctor could not find it, Okay no worries we are going to do an ultra sound and see what is going on. The look of DOOM flushes over the technicians face. She did not even have to say anything. They were able to give me an approximant date on when the baby’s heart stopped beating. Guess what? It lined up with the huge fight where I was tossed around like a rag doll.
I let this monster back into my life and now our baby is dead, what have I done?
The doctor wanted to schedule a DNC, but I wanted to go home and allow my body to do what it was meant to do naturally. Finally on February 22nd, I woke up in horrible pains, Labor was starting. I went down starts to wake my abuser thinking maybe he may have even the slightest amount of sympathy in his body and he could help me through such a hard time. Unfortunately, we ended at the same place we began, with his hands around my throat. Then all of a sudden I feel a huge puddle at my feet, my water had broke.
I grabbed my son, who was two at the time, and we locked ourselves in the bathroom. I called my mom and a friend who was going to help me thru the process of delivering my baby. My mom called the cops and they came to deal with Mykel, my abuser. Originally I was supposed to put a trash bag on the toilet to catch everything that came out, but I was bleeding so much I ended up getting in the bathtub. It was like a scene in a horror movie, my horror movie. The cops kept asking me questions and wanting me to come downstairs, at first I was able to do that, but finally I told them if you want to talk to me you can come up here and see what I am dealing with.
Once they all left I had to collect what I had passed and give it over to the coroner, who was also parked outside my door. I never got to bury her, never really got to say goodbye. That was ten years ago and to this day I still wonder what I could have done differently to have my baby in my arms. But that also means she would be able to be in his arms as well. She is safer where she is, as much as it hurts me.
Mykel never really got more than a slap on the wrist for anything that he did to me. Unfortunately, that is the way things worked ten years ago with Domestic Violence. I think that is why I kept quiet about so much of it; nothing was ever taken seriously so why should I keep reporting it. Things seem to be looking up for women who speak out now, and that makes my heart happy. It is why I went to school to be a social worker. My situation made me realize I wanted to help woman in the same situations that I was in.