Marriage on Countdown
I still have a week before my due date when a truck suddenly hits me, sending me flying several feet and leaving me bleeding profusely on the ground.
As I lose consciousness, I call my husband, Wallace Brown, begging him to rush over and save our unborn child, only for him to reply coldly, "It's Beth's 18th birthday party today, Meryl. You can't seriously be pulling one of your stunts on a day like this, can you?"
In the next instant, I hear my son, Daniel Brown, exclaiming, "You're always using the baby to threaten us, Mommy! I really hate it when you do that!"
Wallace stresses the importance of Beth's birthday party again, demands that I attend immediately, and then hangs up on me.
With a pool of blood spreading beneath me, I close my eyes, overcome by despair.
When I open my eyes again, I am met by the sight of a death certificate.
The doctor delivers a crushing pronouncement. "I'm sorry, but if you had gotten here sooner, we might have been able to save the baby's life…"
I look at the death certificate, feeling as though my heart died with my baby.
I finally decide to leave this family, yet now they're the ones begging me to stay.