by Michele Connell

Created on: July 31, 2008

She came to me with the news, "I'm pregnant." Her words were flat, dead. I went through a myriad of emotions within a short span of five minutes; sadness, disappointment, dread, and anger. I knew who the father was, and my insides churned in despair.

My baby sister was pregnant, unmarried, and with an emotionally abusive partner. How could I endure having him linked to my family forever. From the beginning, I had made it clear where I stood on "Abe" (not his real name). His tactics and attitude were beyond my endurance, but for the past year I'd tolerated - as well as could be expected - his presence. Altercations arose at least once a week where she would call me crying from his actions. I would convince her to come to my house, we would talk, she would decide to break it off, and then one week later be right back where she started.

Now, hopelessness settled over my heart. How would she ever be rid of him? Then it happened, after an explosive argument, in which he held her against her will, she grabbed a phone and told me to call the police. I quickly dialed 911, drove to his mother's home and waited at the end of the driveway. His family was furious at me, but what choice did I have? The drive to protect and nurture her still remained. Though she was no longer a child, I had always coddled and loved her as my very own. Being fourteen years older I was more of a mother than an older sister. That day was an answer to prayer, as she pulled away with determination not to go back. I felt weary from the ongoing battle, and I truly wanted to believe that it was finally over, but now a sweet, precious child nestled in her womb and linked them with binding soul ties.

The rest of her pregnancy went wonderful. We were free of "Abe" and all his dark, moody temper fits. Life finally felt normal, uncomplicated, and the future held a bright sheen. We made all the plans for the baby together. I made sure that she had everything she needed to get a good start on life. Everything was completely taken care of from the room, the bed, clothes, blankets, whatever was required I stepped in and made it happen. I took her to doctor visits - when my mother couldn't go. I planned all the showers, made arrangements; I didn't want her to feel alone in any area. I was even planning to be in the room when her baby was born to coach, encourage, and uplift her spirits. Together, we even picked out another name (they had originally picked one together)to start anew and let the old go.

However,

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