How it all started

The place to start is at the beginning of my story, and this all started when I was 17 years old. I met a man, a very young man in January of 1993. He was handsome, charismatic and fun to be around. He was a junior sailor in the Navy and stationed at the nearest base.

We met at a pub and then again through friends. It was fast our whirlwind romance, from lust to love to commitment. We moved in together to the dismay of my parents and just a little before my 18^th birthday in April I found out I was pregnant.

I was pregnant and under eighteen, to a partner who had only turned eighteen in the preceding January.  A young love story that developed into a marriage of convenience, and like most would end badly. We needed a stable roof overhead and to get the benefits we married. At the time I thought it was love, my first love, but looking back now I know it was tinged with defiance for a dominant father and the need to escape his clutches. 

We married in the June, and our first son was born on the 1^st of December 1993.

I had a difficult pregnancy with morning sickness and pre-term labour. It also did not help that my husband was having an affair with a woman who I thought was a friend, but who was also due to give birth two weeks after I was with another man’s child. It was during my pregnancy that I first experienced physical abuse from my husband, which would later become a pattern. It was in the nursery to be and he picked me up by my throat with his hands and held me against the wall. He was so apologetic afterwards, that I believed his promises that it wouldn’t happen again.

My son arrived and all was forgiven. He was the light of my life and no matter how difficult things became, I was determined to give him a great upbringing. He was a very colicky baby; with a great set of lungs from the steroids I had received to mature them early. I breastfed for six weeks but it became a problem as I couldn’t maintain it without help from my husband. He went on the bottle for supplemental feeds on advice from my ex-mother-in-law, and soon he didn’t want me anymore. I felt rejected and still to this day wish I had persevered.

I was back on the pill after I had T, and thought all was well. I then went to my doctor and he did another few pregnancy tests which came up negative. He thought I had pelvic inflammatory disease which can be sexually transmitted, and I found out yet again that my trust had been betrayed. It turns out I was pregnant, and I gave birth to my youngest son again on the 30^th of December 1994. He was my moonbeam, as T was my sunshine.

That year was hell for me as we moved from Nowra to Perth. I had to live with my in-laws and my husband’s discharge from the Navy. It culminated with R’s birth, and then no-one from my immediate family visiting me on New Year’s Eve. R and I rang in the year together. I left my husband soon after that for about five months, but eventually I went back to him again as I needed to escape my domineering father.

We move along to 1996, and I was having problems with conception issues. The problem was my husband would force me and he couldn’t be sure if I was on any contraception, and of course he wouldn’t use any.  So, with the ex-mother-in-law in tow I had surgery to be sterilized. I was sterilized at the young age of 21. Think about that for a minute...only just legal in some countries. At the time I was too scared to say no as I thought my husband would take it out on me. He promised me custody of our boys if we ever split up...I should’ve known he was a liar and always would be.

Fast forward to 1999 and he tells me he has had enough. I was scared and left without his knowledge and went home to my parents. In a nut shell, he gained custody of both the boys as he was able to keep them in their family home, their schools and promised all sorts of things to the judge. Most of these promises were broken, and my poor boys suffered because of it. Now it is 2011, T lives with me and has finished school. R is doing an apprenticeship and lives with his Nan. His father is now on his second divorce at the age of 35. Again, he was unfaithful and I pity him. He was divorced to me at 25, to the last wife and ogre at 35, what is he going to be doing at 45? I used to hate this man with a passion, now all I can do is feel sorry for him.

This is part of my story more will follow. I find it cathartic to get this all down and I will probably add more details as I go. I will protect the identity of my sons, my ex-husband and his family.

Stay tuned.