I need to ask you a question.

Don’t be so quick to answer.

Have you ever been ejected upon?

It was humid on this day.

It was hot as hell!

He came home drunk.

Hell, that wasn’t anything unusual.

I was bottle-feeding my fourth child-

The word I’m stressing is” bottle”.

He began to bitch about wanting me to breastfeed.

Sistas, I need to ask you a question, and this time I won’t be so loud.

Have you ever wiped waste from your face?

Well, like I was saying, he was still bitching,

Slurred his “motherfuckers” at me, Bitch! he hollered.

Then out of nowhere, a sputter of spittle ejected onto my face

As I held the child he wanted me to breastfeed.

It was an expectorate substance, sputum- you know, mucus.

Hell, it doesn’t make any sense to try and dress it up.

He spit in my face!

I just wanted you all to know that I wasn’t illiterate.

Bitch! he called me again as he stumbled away.

I wiped his spoils from my face, hoping none of his drunkenness

reached my baby.

I didn’t cry, couldn’t.

I just laid my baby down and washed my face.

My Sista, you seem to be the only one left to hear my story.

How did this happen?

This repulsiveness in my life.

I couldn’t see myself, so

I couldn’t protect myself.

I loved my children but I had no will over my own life.

A couple of weeks later, I went to the doctor.

Two months pregnant with my fifth child.

I stood outside the doctor’s office and prayed, as I waited for the bus.

Please God, if you can hear me, please don’t let him want me to

breastfeed this baby!