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There are a few moments in my life that were so significant I can remember every tiny detail of the hours leading up to and following them. The night my uncle died when I was 8- I can remember my sister's and I working a 100 piece jigsaw puzzle while my parents watched Zoro on the local television station. We were fine.
And then the phone rang.
I can remember my dad trying to calm my mom, and they left so quickly- a cousin we weren't very close with came to stay with us. And my sisters and I still had no idea what was happening, so we just finished working the puzzle. Two pieces were missing from the middle, and we tried so hard to find them so we could just finish the damn puzzle, but the hours dragged on and we still couldn't find those last two pieces.
Finally my dad came home alone- my mom stayed with her family while dad had to come home and try to explain to an 8 year old, a 3 year old and a 1 year old what was happening. I'll never forget the regret in his voice as he told us that "Uncle Kevin... Died". And the horribly painful hesitation in his voice as he answered my question right before bed, about how he has died "he... He killed himself".
You never think simple things like puzzles and Zoro are going to be remarkable in any way, but here I am 20 years later still unable to watch Zoro, and I can still remember the exact 2 pieces that were missing from the puzzle. And it sucks.
There were a few other moments in my life I can remember in such painful detail- my first heartbreak, that time I ran away from home... And the time when I was molested by my cousin when I was 6.
I've spent the past 20 years trying to forget what happened that day, but I can't. And as I've matured and grown to realize just how awful what he did to me was, it's only made me regret more that I waited so long to ever tell anyone. And by the time I did it was just too late to do anything. He was family, at least by marriage, and he was my age so I guess it would shake the balance of our family dynamic to do anything. And honestly I had spent so many years dealing with it, to come forward now would just be awkward. So from the first time I told anyone about what he had done until now, I just put the band aid back over the wound and tried to move on. It always came back though, whether in the form of a friend request from him on social media, or having to pretend to be a virgin when I knew I wasn't, not really. And then when I heard he was married, my heart sank a little more because I knew kids were a possibility.
I prayed every day that maybe they wouldn't have children, or wouldnt be able to. I couldn't deal with thinking of what may happen to another innocent at the hands of the monster I know he is. I prayed. I stalked his social media pages to make sure they weren't pregnant. They never were.
And then yesterday, at 10:37 am, I got a notification from a mutual friend. It was a sonogram. I cried.
Due in November.
I always thought I would lose my mind a little more than I did. Surprisingly I only cried for a little while, and then I was...okay. I went on with my day as usual. I only had one glass of wine, and I slept through the night.
Today is day 2 and im hurting a lot like yesterday, but maybe I've finally prayed enough to gain peace about the whole thing. I can't explain it, but this is different than I ever imagined it would be. I don't know if there will ever be a happy ending to this story, but I wanted to be an encouragement to anyone out there that even though I can't say with certainty it will ever be easier, that surviving the worst case scenario is possible. Yesterday was my worst case scenario, and I've made it to day two.