Forced Into Four Miscarriages, My Husband Went Mad After I Vanished

I opened my mouth. My throat felt like someone had it in a fist.

"Tim, I'm begging you."

I reached for the railing and pushed. It didn't budge.

He took a step back.

"The rails are reinforced. Don't waste your strength. I'll come get you myself tomorrow."

He walked off without looking back.

The pigpen door swung shut behind him.

I watched his shape vanish into the dark, and my legs gave out. I dropped into the muck.

The pain in my belly started. Like someone slicing down through me, layer by layer, with a dull blade.

I'd been through it three times already.

Something warm surged out from under me, running down my thighs, mixing with the mud.

"Help..."

The blood kept coming. The smell of it spooked the pigs, and they crowded grunting into the corner.

My vision started to blur.

The pool of blood under me had spread wide, soaked into the black mud, no color left to tell what it had been.

"My baby..."

I struggled, and then there was nothing left in me, and the world went black.

When I woke again, I was in a hospital.

"Mr. Delgado, Ms. Fox's fourth miscarriage has been dealt with. Given the heavy bleeding, on top of the damage to the uterine wall from the earlier miscarriages, I'm afraid from now on..."

The doctor's voice came through the half-open door. Somewhere nearby a nurse was reminding another pregnant woman, "Don't forget your prenatal checks at the county family-services office. An unregistered birth costs you a whole year's wages in fines."

"She'll never be able to carry a child again."

My father's voice was flat. "Just as well. Saves us the shame of her turning out some deformed baby down the line."

My mother sighed. "If it's not in your fate, no use forcing it."

They wheeled me out. I lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

Tears slid from the corners of my eyes and ran into my ears, cold.

My hand rested on my belly. It was empty now.

Everything was gone.

Five pregnancies, five miscarriages. It was time I gave up.

Back in the room, the anesthesia hadn't worn off yet, the pain spreading through my whole body.

Tim took a phone call and left.

"Harper's not feeling well. I need to go check on her. Rest here. I'll be right back."

He didn't even look at me when he said it.

I caught his hand. "Tim, we'll still have the wedding, won't we..."

He pried my fingers loose and left me with only one line. "We will." Then he was gone.

I touched my flat stomach and thought: The only thing you'll be having is the funeral I'm planning for you.

A nurse came in once to change the IV bag. I refused.

"I want to be discharged."

The nurse blinked. "You just came out of a miscarriage procedure. You need several days of rest."

"I'm leaving right now!"

That night I gritted my teeth and threw off the blanket. The moment my feet touched the floor the pain buckled me. I steadied myself against the wall and inched over to the wardrobe, took out the suitcase I'd packed long ago, and dragged it step by step out of the room.