Bad Baby

My husband and I are expecting our first child, and we have tried for many years since we got married five years ago. It was hard for us due to my husband being in the military and being a school teacher. We didn't see each other after my husband departed and left for Germany a couple of weeks after our marriage. He came back two years later, and I was more than ready by then to have a child.

I was pressuring my husband a lot because I knew he was going to be heading back out soon. The sex was great, and a lot of it. It was that much more exciting knowing that one of these times, I had to be pregnant. I was right; after about three weeks, I was. My husband soon left again for Germany and he was worried; he knew that I was going to be alone and pregnant, but he made sure his mom or sister came by to check up on me. I had them, at least. It was a bit much after a few weeks. They wouldn't allow me to teach or to the store, and if I wanted to go outside, one of them had to come.

I spoke to my husband every couple of days, and it would make him so angry that he couldn't be here with me. Still, I would tell him that he was the hero and had to save the world, so he would laugh and realize that he was doing his duty for his country and the people, and it made him alright with the fact of being away. Just had to remind him ever so often that what he was doing was important. He missed home, and it would kill him inside, he missed everyone too, and it made him sad and angry all at the same time. But after reminding him, he was alright and would be back to his military self.

My husband came back home just a week before the baby was born. It was a shock to everyone, as we all thought he would be gone for at least a year or two, but this time the mission was over early, and my dear husband came home. I was more than happy with that, and I wouldn't have to have this baby on my own or with my mother-in-law or sister-in-law around. My husband was a nervous wreck, more than I was; it was astounding since he was a military man and all.

The day I went into labor, the day I will never forget, it was a hard labor. I was hurting everywhere, and it was an unusual pain too. Other parents had told me with kids that giving birth for the first time would be the hardest, and my whole body would be in pain, but this was different somehow. It was like my insides were being ripped at or something similar to that feeling. It was just an odd feeling, and I knew that it wasn't supposed to be like that. But I listened to everyone and didn't think of anything other than everyone who had kids; it's my first birth, and it would feel strange and hurt like that.

After the baby was born, I had a lot of bleeding that wouldn't stop on its own, and the doctor had to take me into surgery to clamp up and stop the bleeding before I bled to death. I couldn't remember it, but my husband was there every step of the way, holding my hand and crying. He was a big man and military, but underneath that was still a man, crying for his wife. He was there when I woke up, and he was holding our son. He brought over the baby to me, and I was still weak; I couldn't hold the baby. My husband held our son, and I touched him and kissed him and cried. I only cried out of happiness. I had the best boys in the world, I thought to myself.

After about a year, while my husband was away on a mission, our son and I was home a lot together alone. The in-laws were not around a lot, and I didn't mind doing everything independently. My husband was calling every day since our son was born, and it was like he really wasn't really gone; it helped a lot. Our son was happy to hear his daddy's voice and smile every time I put the phone to our son's ear. My husband would talk to him for a bit and then talk to me for a bit. It was important for my boys to talk when my husband was away; keeping that bond was important.

After about a year and a half, my husband was finally coming home, and our son was walking already and getting into things. Everything he could reach, I had to either tie up or move it to a higher shelf. I had my hands full, that's for sure. I wasn't expecting to move the whole home up a bit but I can see why it was important. Our son would pull on everything, and he would grab for things and try to climb up on things too. He liked to open up cupboards and pull everything out onto the floor, and I just kept some pots and pans in those cupboards. Our son liked to play with them, and they couldn't hurt him. He liked to make noise with them and pretend to stir things inside them. He was cooking, and it was cute. He wasn't two yet, and it was like he knew what to do already.

My husband was coming home, but he had called and broke the bad news that he would be shipped out as soon as he landed here at the airport in Canada and back onto a plane for Siberia. I couldn't believe he was going there. It was the worst place to go, and all the bad news I heard, I was so afraid that he wouldn't be coming back. I was upset, and yelling a bit, and crying. Our son had seen all this and was upset too. He was already two years old, and he knew that daddy was not coming home. He was so mad and started to act up terribly for me.

I tried to comfort him, but he would push me away and say that I was making daddy stay away. I was shocked. I had no idea that our son would even think of this, but he did. He blamed me for his dad being away and not being at home. I tried to tell him that it was not my fault or his dad's, but he had an important duty to do, and he was going to save a lot of people's lives, so he had to go and help them. Our son wouldn't listen and would hit me and yell at me. He became really violent with me. I was almost scared to be with my own son.

I had called my mother-in-law, and she came to stay with me for a while to help me out and be with her grandson. I thought maybe with his grandmother around that he would calm down and not be so aggressive. It was a good plan until my son started to act up again and tell me awful things that a mother should never hear from her own son. Things like; he wanted me dead, and he hoped that I would get hurt and die. That stuff you never want to hear from anyone but your own child was too much.

My husband was coming home, and I was so excited. I was so afraid to tell him that our son was the way he was towards me, but I thought that our son would stop his evil ways when he knew his dad was coming home soon. My birthday was near, and I hoped that my husband would be home, but I doubted that he would be. Instead, my mother-in-law and son offered to make me a birthday cake, and I wasn't sure if that was a good idea since my son was not himself and wanted me dead. But I thought my mother-in-law was around, and nothing bad could happen when she was around. She was going to be making the cake, and it was alright.

On the day of my birthday, the two of them were in the kitchen making my chocolate cake, and I couldn't be happier. I smelt the cake baking and wasn't allowed in the kitchen until later on. It was a surprise. I loved surprises. The cake would be the best, and both of them would be decorating my cake with icing flowers and bows. I couldn't wait to see it. I was sitting in the living room when the big moment arrived. I hadn't talked to my husband yet, but I knew that he had to be calling soon. My son and mother-in-law came into the living room carrying the beautiful cake with candles on it. They were both singing " Happy Birthday," and they both were smiling from ear to ear. I was so happy, and nothing evil crossed my mind.

They sat the chocolate cake down and told me to blow out the candles. I did and made a wish. It was the best moment, and I never wanted that moment to end. My son even hugged me, and he whispered in my ear, " Bye, mom, I love you." What the heck, I thought? What is he telling me? Why did he say bye to me?

My mother-in-law hugged me and whispered, "Happy Birthday, you'll be just fine, my dear." Now, this was crazy. What the heck is going on? They both were smiling at each other and then at me. Cutting me a slice of the cake. I wasn't sure if it was okay to eat it, but why not, I thought? They would never hurt me, and why would they both try to hurt me? I was just paranoid and thinking crazy for no reason. I took the piece of cake and started to eat it. So did they. They were eating the cake too, it was fine. They wouldn't eat it if they both were trying to do something to me. It was all in my head, I thought. Then it was happening, I felt sick, and then everything was spinning, and my head was light, I wasn't able to talk, and I fell to the ground.

I remember waking up in the hospital, my husband there, trying to get to me, but I was in and out, and I don't remember much after that. It was all dark, and I only heard voices and then silence. I had passed away. I remember my husband fighting his way to me and crying and yelling. I saw bright lights on my face and my eyes so heavy, I couldn't keep them open. The tubes in my mouth and my nose. The nurses and then nothing. It was completely black. I had gone. My death came to me fast. My son and his grandmother had killed me with my chocolate birthday cake. I was only forty years old when I passed. I had so much in life to live for, but my son wanted me dead from before he was born. He tried to kill me when he was inside me. I swear he was trying. But instead, he waited and got me anyway, but my husband is alone now. My son is happy with me gone. I was missed, and I was loved so much by my husband. I loved him so much, my brave hero. I'll see him again someday; I'll find him again. In time. Not this time, though.