On June 24, 2015 I was raped by the one person that was never supposed to hurt me -- my husband.  At his hands, I suffered a long history of domestic violence, unwanted sexual encounters, attempted murder and a miscarriage.  

I hadn’t had sex with my husband since the end of April because he had and STD he refused to treat.  I didn’t dare to have sex with him even if we used a condom. At that point he was irate that I wouldn’t sleep with him.  I was on pain medication because of a foot injury.

One night, I took a pain pill, took off my walking boot and got ready for bed.  I’m not sure how long I was sleeping but I woke up to him touching me. The room was dark and I was groggy.  I told him to stop, that I didn’t feel good.  He wouldn’t listen.  He tried grabbing for me more, and I elbowed him.  I told him to stop again, that I wasn’t having sex with him.  He then began forcing himself on me.  I was hollering at him to stop and get off of me.  I told him no, that I didn’t want to do this.  I began squirming around kicking as best I could.  It was hard to try to get away with my foot in so much pain.  I remember being hit with something, scratched and pushed around as he tied my wrists up.  When he started choking me, I thought I was going to die.  

When he was done, he untied me and said nothing.  He laid down and went to sleep like it didn’t happen.  I reached around the bed for my clothes and what he tied my wrists with.  I wrapped myself with a sheet and hobbled to the bathroom.  I sat on the floor for over an hour crying before I could compose myself.  He had tied me up with an extension cord.  I found this bizarre because I don’t remember one being in the room.  All I could think was he planned this all out.  It wasn’t a spur of the moment thing.  He was no longer my husband -- he was now my attacker.

I had been abused verbally, mentally, physically, sexually and economically by the person who chose me in life.  He had promised  to love me forever and protect me.  What he actually did to me is not love -- but sick!  We hadn’t had any sexual contact after that incident. 

I found out I was pregnant the week of my birthday -- pregnant from the night he raped me. When he found out I was pregnant, he began a plot to kill me.  Nevertheless, I was able to escape with my life.

I later found out there was a hemorrhage attached to the baby.  I contemplated an abortion because I was afraid there was nothing I could do to keep him away from my baby.  But the first time I felt my unborn child move, I knew an abortion wasn’t in the picture.  As my baby grew, my son decided to call my unborn child “baby bean” because we didn’t know the gender yet.

I had spoken to my attacker and seen him on occasion.  He never admitted to the rape or attempted murder.  He never spoke of the miscarriage from a prior pregnancy when he was abusing me.  He apologized for some things and begged me to take him back, but I refused.

At eight months into my pregnancy, my husband was coming over to discuss divorce and what to do regarding "baby bean." He was in a good mood and figured it was time we had this conversation like adults, but instead, he used this opportunity to bind and rape me again.

He then took me to the hospital because I was having contractions.  He stayed the entire time.  I never told the nurses what happened because he wouldn’t leave the room and I was frozen.  I was so afraid he damaged my baby and I just felt so vulnerable.

Despite all of the abuse and the stress, I instantly loved my little girl so much!  She may have been conceived by rape, but I had so much love for her the moment I laid eyes on her.  She was so beautiful and perfect -- my tiny miracle!  I chose to keep her and love her unconditionally.  She never inflicted any pain on me.  She was just created and that’s all there is to it.  

I told my attacker I had her later that morning.  He never asked how either of us were.  He just called me filthy names.

Abortion shouldn’t be the solution to a situation like mine, and women shouldn’t be forced into adoption either.  It took a lot of suffering and courage to finally leave and I’m glad I have a voice now and the opportunity to share the truth about what happened to me.

BIO:  Nicole P. is a mother of two and pro-life blogger for Save The 1.