Her Name Is Emily

I lost my child because of him. Five years ago, I was pregnant with our second child. He came home drunk and was upset that there was no food on the table. He pulled my hair and slapped me. When I managed to free myself from his grip, I ran towards the door. That was when he kicked me from the back. I fell on my stomach. I started to bleed. Seeing the blood, he got scared and ran out of the house. Thankfully, my neighbour heard my screams and called the police.

I was hospitalised for a week. I suffered a fracture on my cheekbones because of the assault. But worse than that, I lost the baby in my womb. I was in my late second trimester. Do you know the pain I felt when the doctors said that they could not save the baby? Do you know what it feels like to have to deliver a dead fetus whose features were there, waiting to blossom into a full human being? This was my child.

My first child was taken into custody and taken care of by the child protection unit while I was in the hospital. I had no other family members. My mother was too old to look after my son. My father had passed on. And I have no sibling. As for my husband, he was on the run. But the police finally caught him and charged him for assault. I was also given a personal protection order while he was out on bail.

Until now, I could not forgive him for what happened.

We are separated now. He tried to make amends but I am too traumatised to see him. Although he said he regretted what happened, claiming he was intoxicated that night, I could not forgive him. He had served a short sentence in jail. Good for him. But even that will not bring back my dead baby.

I am now living with my son. He is in Primary Three this year. I still have bad dreams at night. And I will cry at times when I'm alone. My son could have had a baby sister but all that is gone now. It is just me and my son. At times, I blame myself for it. Could I have broken that fall and not land on my stomach? Should I not have resisted the assault and let him attack my face but not my stomach? Did I lose my baby because of my bad karma? Why had I chosen to marry him in the first place? But had I not married him, I would not have my one and only son whom I love very much.

All these thoughts caused me to have mental breakdowns. I am seeing a psychiatrist now and have been prescribed some medications. I hope to be able to overcome this episode and get back to life. I have to. If not for me, for the sake of my son...and my daughter who could have been. I named her Emily.

Yours sincerely,


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