Put the Baby Down!

"Put the baby down Claudine!"

"Why, so you can throw me across the room?!? "Our" child is screaming because of you. He's scared!"

"You have one more time to raise your voice at me. Now I am going to tell you again. Either you put the baby down or I will."

Not sure what he meant by that particular statement, I did not want to chance it. I only had seconds to make a decision, so I walked past him slowly and gently placed my screaming  newborn son in his play pen. Our girls slept peacefully in their beds unaware of the mayhem happening right outside of their bedroom door. 

 I was afraid to turn around, as I knew this 200 plus pound bully was waiting to attack. 

"Now you were talking all of that s&*! when you had the baby... what's up now now, huh? You think I'm some punk a$$ ni&&a off the street. I'm not a bi*$@, your husband can actually hold his own."

He continued his mindless banter and I desperately searched for an escape. While he bounced around like a boxer in a ring, my mind went to my children. My three babies 3,2, and just a few weeks. How would I get out of this one? This time I didn't even know what the argument was truly over.  He left the house early that evening, which had become a pattern. Shortly thereafter, I received a phone call from a "Gina" asking when he would be arriving to the party. Naturally, upon his return, I inquired and from that point World War 3 had erupted. I watched him, in his fighting stance and wondered how he could think that this was an equal match up, but I did not utter even a single breath...

"So you just gonna sit there and disrespect me? You don't hear me talking to you?" 

He pushed me down into the glass table and a pain seared down my side. There was blood but it was superficial. I wasn't too badly hurt. My newborn on the other hand was crying so hard that he was gasping for air. I was at a loss for what to do! I ignored my pain and stood to my feet. I politely said excuse me and walked around the near 300 pound monster standing before me.... Wrong move! 

He grabbed me by arm ad slung me onto the sofa...

"What the fu*! is wrong with you?!?! Where the he!! do you think you're going?"

"_________ the baby is crying! Please let me get to him, he needs me! He can't breathe!"

"Oh, so he needs "you"?!? What the fu*! am I? You don't think he needs me?"

Of course he found a way to twist my words. Then my heart sank and jumped to my throat at the same time! He walked toward our son and tears just flooded my eyes.

"Oh my God! Please________! Don't hurt him, he is just a baby! He doesn't know any different, he is crying because he wants to be comforted and he hasn't eaten! Please!!! I didn't mean anything by saying he needs me... only that I have to nurse him!

 I pleaded with him not to hurt my baby boy.

"Shut up! I'm not going to hurt my son! He's crying because he needs ME! Now look at that, he stopped. Ain't that right buddy? you wanted Daddy, not your dumb ass mother."

He walked to the kitchen and got the baby a bottle. He sat down for the next hour or so feeding, changing, consoling, and all the while speaking derogatorily about me to our newborn. He dared me to get up and I sat frozen in fear of so many of the deadly scenarios that consistently played through my mind. 

After one of the longest hours of my life, finally my beast of a husband fell asleep. I carefully picked up my baby and trembling I took shelter in my daughters' room. Afraid to leave, I locked the door and sat staring at it, waiting for him to come back for me. 

He didn't. Eventually I heard the front door. I had no regard for his whereabouts, instead I just took my children piled them in the car and like I had done so many times before sought shelter at my parent's home. 

Happy to see us, they did not suspect a thing. And again we were safe.