Married Only to Have Kids

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

(4 weeks later)

Musa and I were in the bathroom. I just peed on a pregnancy test, and now we are waiting with the timer on my phone. I covered the test with a tissue because we didn't want to see it right away.

"Moosy, I'm nervous." I look over at him, who's walking back and forth across the bathroom, while I'm sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

"If you don't get pregnant the first time, we can keep trying. If you are pregnant, then I promise to take care of you and make sure you are comfortable and stress-free at all times." He takes my hand and squeezes it.

"Alright...I think it's time now." We head over to the counter and left the tissue. There's the stick that will change our lives forever.

PREGNANT

"WE DID IT!" Musa screams and lifts me in the air while giving me a hug. I am in shock, I can't believe we did it on the first try. He carries me bridal style into the bedroom, onto the bed, fluffs a few pillows, and tells me to get comfortable.

"Bro, I'm like only a month pregnant, I'm not disabled. I can walk and do the normal daily stuff."

"No, Sally, you do not have to get on your feet for the next 9 months. Let me take care of you and our baby. You will no chance of harming the baby with me by your side at all times."

"But Moosyyyy, I don't wanna be on bedrest for the next 9 months of my life, I'm gonna get bored after 2 days!"

"Well you have me next to you, and the TV, and your laptop. I'll even bring all your food to you. You'll never get bored."

"Muuuussaaaaaa!!" I glare at him. This dude will be the end of me. But I think I love this dude. He's too sweet.

As the days go by, Musa has been making sure that I'm not on my feet, cleaning the house, or doing any heavy lifting. If I would even get out of the bed, he would make sit back down and relax. At first, I thought he was being really sweet and caring, but now he's really getting on my nerves.

"Dude, I'm not on freaking bedrest, I'm like barely a month in. My butt hurts from sitting all the time, I need to exercise my feet."

"No!" He yells.

"Excuse me?" I am shocked at his reaction.

"You're going to harm the baby."

"I'm going to what? Musa, this is getting out of hand. I can take care of myself. I'm not going to harm the baby by walking around doing my daily routine around the house."

I was trying so hard not to yell at him. Does he think that women being pregnant means we are handicapped? Has he never seen someone pregnant just doing their normal routine and going about their lives? Doesn't he remember when his mom was pregnant with his youngest brother? I'm sure he would remember that, since he was 13 years old when his youngest brother was born, and that was only 8 years ago.

"Salma, I don't want you hurting the baby, please respect my wishes"

"I'm not going to hurt the baby oh my god! You know what, I'm going to my parents' house, I feel suffocated with you constantly telling me to stay in bed. Once again, I'm only a few weeks in, the baby has barely made its shape yet. Heck, I don't even have a bump yet! If I need to be on bedrest, that will most likely be during the last few weeks of the pregnancy, if you're so paranoid. But for now, I'm leaving, and I'm going to do whatever the hell I want, and you can't stop me." I get out of bed and head towards the closet to get a duffle bag to start putting some clothes and other essentials in.

"If you step foot out of this house, I will not let you back in when you come back."

Is he serious? This is abuse and harassment, this cannot be normal. This is exactly what I was scared of about getting married: getting harassed by my husband.

"Musa, that's harassment right there. You can't kick me out of the house." I try to reason with him.

"I'm not kicking you out, you're the one who's trying to leave."

"I'm not leaving for good, I'm only going for like 2 days maybe. Keep up the irrational talk, and I'll be gone for the entire week."

"Alright fine I'll stop. You can do whatever you want around the house, but please don't leave."

"Thank you!" I say exasperatedly and throw the duffle bad back into the closet where it was, and head downstairs to the kitchen to cook, so I can take my mind off of what just happened.