Before I knew it 3 more months had passed and although my newest pregnancy was now quite plainly showing, nobody noticed.
I just kept on doing everything that I was used to doing - the things I had done for years. Taking care of Ma and Pa, the kids, the cabin. But I no longer took care of myself.
I wanted Luke to love me, but he came and left again without even looking at me. I lay in bed all alone and cried the tears of the heartbroken.
I had never had such a soul destroying experience. My whole body ached with grief. I felt the small mound of my new son, Luke Jr. and wondered just what kind of marriage I had.
It was another few weeks before Luke came home and finally discovered my secret. I remember that the kids weren't home from school yet.
Luke's eyes turned into dangerous black slits as he looked over my changed form. Oh boy - he was angry. I was quite scared. I backed up into the nearest corner with fear in my heart while he tried to speak through the strong emotions that he was experiencing.
I saw his face contort until he looked like a vicious beast before I covered my face with my hands... and then the screaming began.
I stood there with my head bowed and tried not to listen while he said the most awful things about how I had betrayed him, how I was trying to break him and ruin his life.
At that moment I hated him for saying those things. What about MY pain? What about MY life? I had always tried to do my best, then I remembered the night my new baby was conceived and I began to cry.
It was at least an hour before Luke had calmed down enough to ask me what had happened. I lied and told him that I had merely run out of pills over a period of time, but because I was so far along in my pregnancy he knew I must have been lying.
He angrily questioned me further and I felt weak with fear - I sat down heavily in one of our chairs and cradled my head in my hands. I was crying softly and I lied and said that I had begun to take them but had missed a few days and out of fear I had just swallowed all of the rest at one time.
His anger began afresh at this and by this time I was so weak I could barely stand up.
Soon after this Luke left.
The children who had arrived home sometime during that scene slowly drifted inside.
Heaven helped me into bed and took care of things while I cried myself to sleep.
Now that Luke knew of my pregnancy I was able to relax.
I wondered if the stress I had endured during the beginning had had some bad effect on my unborn child which seemed unusually still and unmoving.
I tried not to worry about this, believing that the more I rested and relaxed I grew, the better the baby would react.
Finally the day came, the day of my baby's birth. I was as excited as if this was the birth of my first child, and I was nervous too. I had hoped and prayed and taken such a chance just to have this little one. I just couldn't wait to gaze down into my sons little newborn face. I couldn't wait to see Luke's' pleasure as he gazed down, finally, at a son who was created in his own image, at that moment I knew Luke would forgive me and all the love he was capable of giving would be mine.
After a few hours of a difficult birth, my only difficult one, my tiny baby emerged.
A tiny pink baby that I could hardly bear to look at. I kissed my baby, I loved my baby but somewhere deep inside someone was screaming and hating because my baby had become a horrifying symbol of Luke's betrayal.
No dark headed son lay hungry in my arms, only a sad dead one suffering from the terrible sins of his father. No doubt, I blamed him. No doubt I was angry, I howled, I screamed trying desperately to drown out my own thoughts, my own knowledge of the terrible grief and loss I would have now be forced to live through.
Luke saw our baby, blamed me, screamed, hurled abuse and then left.
A terrible day, made impossibly worse by the passing of Lukes ma which was a double blow, though her passing was nothing compared to the loss of my longed for child.
Crying, weeping, wailing a new word was needed to describe what my soul expressed in the days that followed, my tears took over my entire being, my body was weak with the sheer effort of so much terrible, unbearable pain.
A few weeks later Luke returned with stooped shoulders and a new confession. I took delight in hurting him with the only weapon I had now. The news of his mothers' death. He hurt me afresh with his news too, the new knowledge that it was in fact his fault that I had lost the baby. Syphilis, a dirty disease from his whoring ways.
Both hurt now, but refusing and not able to comfort the other, we or rather I fought, driving him from the cabin with my anger.
As I grew more and more depressed I retreated into my own private world of pain.
I no longer felt the pain of a lost love, the terrible pain of Luke's rejection of me. My overriding experience became that of entrapment.
The die was cast, the clay was set into stone the day my baby died, nobody could feel my pain as deeply as me.
My children appeared as strangers to me, I looked upon them with an intense resentment which was beginning to border on hatred. Their needs and wants were everlasting and incessant and I had absolutely nothing to give them, not even the desire to try.
Once my children had been a vessel of love. Offering me endless opportunities to prove my love and devotion to Luke through my devotion to them.
Now I had nothing to prove.
Each day I went through the ceaseless motions of my eternally loveless existence.
I awoke each morning to complete my endless cycle of chores, feeling so numb while one thought dominated, run, escape, hide.
Please God, help me. Give me the strength to find a new way, an escape from my pitiful existence.
I often found myself praying silently to myself while the tears slipped from my eyes. I cried for my baby many times, and for the lack of love that had killed him. I knew that that same lack of love would surely kill me too if I didn't get away soon.
During the time after the birth of our final child I experienced a metamorphosis into a different woman, changed as only the terribly scarred can be changed.
My heart was no stranger to pain, for it had been broken countless times over these hard years but now it felt as though it was shattered with no more room for love, now that I no longer loved Luke I had no reason to stay on here in perpetual agony. Yes, it was time to go.
I don't know why I stayed on, I guess I was giving Luke his final chance, the tiniest of flames was left in my heart waiting to be nurtured back to life - or to be extinguished... For good.
One night I awoke to hear a sound outside. In the woods at night there were always many sounds. Normally I slept through all of them, but tonight something was different, this time, thoughts of Luke entered my head.
Quietly, I slipped from the bed and softly padded toward to our tiny kitchen window.
On my way over, the bulk of many packages resting on our kitchen table caught my eye. My breath caught in my throat, my heart stopped dead. I stood there quietly waiting... Waiting for something...
But nothing, nothing but silence greeted me, Luke had come and gone. Come and gone, sobs tore at my throat, and there grew a terrible pain in my chest from holding back the sounds of my grief.
Note to readers - I copied the note in its entirety from Heaven.
I stood there quietly trying to regain some control of myself, I coaxed my anger to grow. I allowed my mind to wander back over the old hurts, the rejections, the humiliations the thoughts turned me into the vengeful beast I needed to be - then I sprang into action.
I knew the kids would be hurt and would have trouble without me but - I felt vindicated and satisfied that Luke would perhaps learn just how to suffer because of me.
I began to gather my few possessions together along with a few rugs, after I had put everything into a bag I sat down to write Luke a note. There was so much to say, so much that had never been said.
Quietly I lit a candle, sat for a minute while I thought about what to say and began in my neatest handwriting -
Dear Husband,
Can't stay no longer with a man who just don't care enough about anything. Going to where it's better. Good luck and Goodbye.
Much as I loved ya, hate ya now.
Sarah.
I felt satisfied with that, I rested the note on the bed, picked up my bag and turned to go.