It started with him barking at me when I asked simple questions, and quickly escalated to confrontation. Finally, his temper started getting the best of him and the more complex things got, the more violent he became. With his work schedule, my classes, a new baby and the physical and financial difficulty of juggling it all, tensions ran high in my apartment, which we were now sharing. We were doing exactly what I'd envisioned for us: we were a family, and I was holding us down while helping Mark see that life could be good if we worked together.īut the novelty wore off and life got real again.
It was beautiful and it stayed that way, for a while Mark was an attentive dad in the beginning, picking up and dropping off the baby while I took my classes and went to work, making sure I had what I needed to juggle the demands of both school and my job, while parenting a newborn. When Marcell finally made his big debut, Mark lay on top of me and cried tears so joyous, so infectious, everyone else in the room fell out in tears, too.
He was so excited and nervous, he was bumping me all into the walls. It was he who helped me into the wheelchair and rushed me through the halls into the emergency room. And Mark was so excited to be his father. I swear, all that teasing is the reason why Marcell came out looking just like his daddy they've got the same head and eyes, the same thick, hard, leathery hands. The whole time I was stuffing my face, Mark was clowning with me like he always did, calling me a beached whale and a few other things that had me cackling and feeling good. I'm at least ninety-five percent positive I ate my way into the contractions. I went into labor on Mother's Day in 1994, just after my boyfriend Mark took our mothers and me to dinner.
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