I lost a child to the Occupy movement.

itsallgone:

Just thirteen days ago I was eight months pregnant.

Everyone loved rubbing my belly.

I even wore my “Baby On Board” shirt over my gigantic stomach.

I was in a small group, assembled away from the massive crowd.

All we did was stand arm in arm, chanting, cheering, and laughing.

A large group of officers approached. They were headed for the larger crowds.

We expected to be passed by since it was just a couple of us.

I was all too wrong.

Four officers broke off from the pack and came our way.

There were about ten of us, completely unarmed. We became a target regardless.

The cops came up hollering about us being lazy and stupid.

A young lady in our group laughed out loud, and that’s when all hell broke loose.

Two officers swung their batons at one end of our line, hitting the young lady and and a young man. The other two officers started pushing us into a tight circle. I was shoved backward by my face, and I instinctively broke my hold in the line to put a hand on my stomach.

We were all forced into a tight bunch with the officers pushing and swinging their batons. I was hit with pepper spray on the back of my head, while others were hit point blank in the face. I tried to squeeze my way out, I was getting pushed around too much.

I made it outside of the bunch, but another officer was circling - and with my hands cradling my stomach - he slammed his baton into me. Pain shot through my hands, and I doubled over screaming. Then he landed the second more painful blow on my unprotected stomach.

Everything sort of went hazy, and I could hear the blood rushing in my head.

When I was able to focus I realized I was on the ground. I had wet myself, and an officer was upset that I had gotten his shoe wet. His baton hit my shoulder and then my wrist as I tried to protect myself.

The large crowd had gotten unruly, and it became a godsend. The three remaining officers left us alone. Everyone looked terrible with beet-red, swollen faces. Everything was loud and garbled. It all seemed so far away.

I was driven to the hospital, getting bloody urine all over a stranger’s seats with people cradling me telling me everything was going to be OK.

I left the hospital with two broken fingers, a sprained wrist, bruised ribs, a destroyed camera, fresh clothes, four new friends, and nothing more.

There was no baby girl in my stomach.

Evelynn, the one good thing in my life, was taken from me before I could ever hold her.

I can’t even look at myself in a mirror without crying.

Just thirteen days ago I was eight months pregnant.

Six days ago my friends were supposed to throw a baby shower for me.

Two days ago my ex-husband came by to call me a stupid bitch for getting an abortion.

Apparently everyone thinks I had an abortion and they all look at me differently, and they’re showering my ex with sympathy. I won’t even bother speaking to them.

Now I have nothing to lose, so when I’m given the green light, I’ll be back on my feet and ready to go stand on the front lines.

But ladies, if you’re pregnant, please stay at home.

The police don’t care about you. They will show no mercy to you or your unborn child. They’re only around to uphold the status of the 1%. They cannot be trusted.