The torrent of emotional abuse started again; I was the one causing us to not be pregnant, I was the one who was not whole. I was the one that was not a woman because I could not produce a child.
I felt my heart tear into further fragmented pieces and form little remnants of ashes as he spoke these harsh words about me. I went to the bedroom and lay on the bed and sobbed my heart out as he watched his beloved football teams play football and chanted them on. I remained there for some time and continued to use the bedroom as my salvation and prayer room.
I begged God for a solution to this pain and for me to feel whole; I just felt lost. Felt more broken. More torn. More invisible.
Where was the love?