So much to say. And lost on how to say it. I'm struggling with so many emotions it's scary and I'm stressed out like nobody would believe. A part of me is dying inside I can feel it. I'm going to seek professional help but I just need a place to vent. A very long vent. So if you stick with me until the end, just know I need this desperately, as it is a very long story.
Well. I was here a year and a half ago. I found out my fiance cheated on me in 2011 on new years eve before 2012. An ex girlfriend whom he thought might have gotten pregnant. At the time I thought I might have been. Happy New Years, right? Neither turned out to be true, thank God and I stayed. Stupid move on my part, maybe, but I thought he was genuinely remorseful. Maybe he was, I don't know. Fast forward a year. I thought we were effectively working through our issues. We had bumps, of course. it sure wasn't smooth sailing. Especially when I would struggle with trust issues, which I still do. But there was hardly a day that went by that he didn't tell me he loved me and I just knew this was real.
The evening of December 2, 2012 I took a pregnancy test. I just felt off. And it came up positive. Birth control and antibiotics. Live and learn. But that same night, I started spotting and didn't know what to think. Is it a false positive or was I losing the baby before I really even knew he/she existed? My sister in law took me to the hospital were indeed I found out I was pregnant and the spotting was probably residual blood. I came home and immediately had to talk with my fiance over the computer. He had actually been robbed a few days before, so his cell was gone. He lives In Philadelphia, some three hours away from myself, in Maryland. We had met on one of those crazy 3d chat sites which is how I had to tell him I was pregnant (and incidentally how I found out about his "extracurricular activities" on there). He said he was happy and scared at the same time. Immediately he started making plans to move up here. He had me begin helping him search for employment up here. I thought we were going to make a family, however unplanned it was, certainly not unwanted. Right after New Years 2013 At about 10 weeks I found out I was having twins. I was relieved he wanted to move up here as I knew I would need every ounce of him I could get even with one baby, let alone two. It wasn't too long after things started to change. More arguments, fights, everything. My pregnancy was already high risk because of carrying not just multiples, but identical girls, but it became difficult also. I would spot on and off but I just couldn't figure out why. I wasn't doing any strenuous activity, him being so far away sex was limited to maybe two or three times a month, when I could get up there between the constant doctor appointments. February I received a call from my ob's office. They had done a pap smear and the results came back abnormal. His little dip into familiar territory last year resulted in a trichomoniasis contact and I was immediately started on a course of antibiotics. My heart dropped into the soles of my shoes. I didn't know what way was up or down. I called him that same day and I had to revisit that awful place he put me in. I asked him if he had gotten tested, if he had ever even been concerned about stds. I should've left him that day. I should've said that you couldn't be bothered to protect yourself, put me at risk, and most importantly put the babies at risk. I didn't. I stayed. I told him this was bigger than the cheating now, that I needed to know he was going to get taken care of. God, I should've just left.
I started getting vibes around March. Things just weren't adding up. All centered around that stupid 3d site. He would spend real money to buy virtual money for that site. The virtual money he'd buy things with. Turns out he was buying things for other females. Ok. Friends, he said. We'd argue about that and I'd say his life is becoming that site. There were a few times like that. He came up to visit for Easter. One morning I was playing a game on his kindle and went to send a help request. Who should I see on his facebook friends list but the ex-gf from last year. I know for a fact they weren't friends after everything happened. So I looked in his messages. She said she missed him and wanted him to call. No mention from him of being in a relationship and expecting two little girls. No message from him saying he's not interested in anything she had to say and he can't talk to her anyway. Just an ok from him. He left his phone also, which I looked through. When there's a message from a person that significant other cheated with saying call them, what else was I to do? If he was going to tell the truth about it he would've told me from the minute she contacted him. That's how trust works, isn't it? I begged him when I agreed to stay with him to give me a reason to trust him. All I needed were reasons to trust him. There were no texts from her, no phone calls either way. I saw the contacts list and she wasn't in there, nor any numbers that might've been. I asked him if he sent the girl a friend request and he said no, and to please not go there that weekend. I left it alone. By this time I was 4 months pregnant. When he left, I knew things were going downhill. I prayed I was wrong. Because what kind of man cheats on his pregnant fiance? Someone who's having a pretty rough time, in a big part due to his actions? Again, I should've left. SO many times I should've left. So many things I should've done and didn't.
The middle of April I was admitted to the hospital for preterm labor. I was scared witless. I had courses of antibiotics in there, magnesium sulfate to stop the contractions, steroids to help mature the girls' lungs faster. I had already dilated 3cm. The were able to stop the contractions but I stayed in the hospital for a week. One night, while on the phone with him, he told me he was going to bed.I had a feeling he wasn't really going to bed, and sure enough, he was on that damn chat site. Even in the hospital, it's got a hold on him. I was released on strict bed rest for the duration of my pregnancy. Only allowed up to use the bathroom and doctor's appointments, and even then I had better use a wheel chair. One night, very late. I got up out of the bed to go to the bathroom. I had my phone with me, and I was going to call him. However something told me to check that site on my phone and yep. He was on there in another room. So I used my laptop and made a little fake account and logged on. I wanted to know what was so fascinating he ignored my phone calls. Or pretended to be just waking up when I knew he didn't. I went in to the room and what do ya know? I see him telling some girl he was touching her and rubbing her thighs. Was all I needed to see. So I called him. He made it seem like he wasn't doing anything wrong and how this was my fault some way. He said some very hurtful things, not the least of which was since I seem to think he's cheating on me I can take him for child support just like his other daughter's mother and he can "do him." He's said that a couple of times in arguments since I've been pregnant. My emotions were already all over the place, scared, lonely. Eventually, we moved on, sort of. He thought things were good, I knew otherwise. A week later he was back at it again, although it turns out he never stopped. Things were bad, and only going to get a whole lot worse.
May 1, 2013 at 9:00 p.m. I went to the bathroom and noticed something that made me stop breathing altogether. I had passed my mucous plug. I knew at 26 weeks I was in labor. My aunt and mother rushed me to the hospital. I had hoped they could stop it like the last time. The midwife there looked and said she could see hair. My ob was rushed in and he did a manual check. I had dilated to 5cm but they couldn't chance leaving things as is and risking an infection. My little girls were coming that night. I was put to sleep and at 12:50 a.m. Thursday, May 2, 2013 Nina Evelyn was born weighing 1lb 13 oz. At 12:52 a.m. Her little sister, Cassidy Aubrey followed weighing 1lb 11oz. They were immediately rushed to the NICU where they will remain for at the very least, two months while I was being stitched back together and brought back.
My fiance came the next day to help me and be with the girls until Sunday. I thought he was amazing in there. I was a complete basket case, terrified for my beautiful tiny girls and feeling horribly guilty for my body betraying me and failing the girls. They weren't meant to be out this early, how could I not be strong enough to protect them and keep them safe inside until it was time? I have awful thoughts that this whole mess is all my fault. I had to have my aunt take me up there after I was released to sign a consent form for a catheter to be put in their arm to give them more fluids. I was trying to explain the procedure to him over the phone and he lost it. I tried to explain this is the best thing for them but he wouldn't listen. As I sat in the wheel chair and listened to him yell and tell me I was going to do what I wanted and how I was a child and needed to grow up and how I could take his name off the birth certificate and take him for child support and then he could be the deadbeat I seem to want him to be, I had a doctor in front of me waiting for the signature, a nurse handing me a paper for social security for them, and machines beeping in the back for my babies. I couldn't handle it. It was too much. I got out of the chair, went to the patient shower room, sat in a shower stall on a bench and broke down. The stress, the guilt, the hurt. My life was in the NICU and I had no control over anything. In that moment a part of me wanted to die, but I knew my girls needed me.
This past weekend my fiance came back down to see the girls and to help me. My mother was getting married Saturday, but I'm still healing from the c-section so I couldn't go. He was here to make sure I had everything I needed taken care of. I remember lying beside him that Friday night and thinking my life is spiraling out of control. I need to know. So the next morning while, he was in the kitchen I took his phone and opened to the messages. I don't know who she is, but I saw some very explicit messages about what he was going to do to her when he logged on to that site that night. The message before was for me telling me he loved me and was going to talk to me the next day. He was explaining all the ways in which he could...well, let's just say he was hungry 
This was while I was in the hospital thee first time. The newer messages were him texting her about him pulling in to the greyhound depot in my area and waiting for my aunt to pick him up. He texted her about how the girls looked and what they were doing and how Cassidy likes to pull the wires she's hooked up to and Nina doesn't like anything on her feet. He gave some woman on that site his phone number and talked to her as a man that's engaged doesn't talk to another female not his lady. He said she may even want it for real and when she can have it. I called him in to bring the breast pump and told him to shut the door. I turned his phone around and said maybe we should just be parents and it was all downhill from there. I just asked him why? Why do it? That he was telling her anything about our girls, that he was doing that when I was in the hospital scared out of my mind, just why? He told me I made him miserable, that I stalked his life and I was just like his ex wife. As I sat and cried while listening to him bash my already low self esteem further into the ground I began to pump. I mentally checked out. I heard him, I knew what he was saying, I knew my girls were in the hospital still, I knew my mother's wedding was that day, but I just wasn't there. I could feel the pump, I knew I was expressing milk for when my girls could feed. My mind was just gone. For about a half an hour I stayed like that. I had sunk into some kind of mental hole, is the best way to explain it.
Today I tried to talk to him. I don't know why I thought maybe I could get somewhere. I needed answers. Why he was humiliating me, disrespecting me. He said I don't trust him and if somebody's constantly accusing somebody of doing something why not just do it? As I sat on the couch, incision throbbing, scared for my girls because they had a bad couple of days and wondered if I was going to get a call from the hospital telling me I need to get down there right away I thought to myself why can't I hate this man? I should be able to hate him right now. What's wrong with me that I'd look in to his eyes and probably still love him just as much as I did before?
I'm emotionally and physically exhausted. I keep searching for reserves of strength for my girls but my heart, my mind, even my body feels like the branches on a willow tree. Wilted and turned down so low I'm almost touching the ground. I wonder how do I cope? How do I be strong for my babies when I feel so weak and defeated? Every moment I feel like I'm gambling and it's only a matter of time before I get a losing hand.
[This message edited by BrokenNBonded at 3:48 PM, May 14th (Tuesday)]
