My ex stole my baby
My controlling partner had already robbed me of so much Danielle Gilmour, 25, Dunbarton
Scrolling through Facebook, my heart sank. Looks fun! I thought, clicking ‘like’ on silly selfies in nightclub loos, pics of pals in beer gardens.
I used to post things like that, too.
Before I met Paul, 27...
It was May 2014 and I couldn’t believe how much had changed in the few months since me and Paul had got together.
To begin with, he’d been thoughtful and protective.
Even taken on my little boy, just 6 weeks old.
My mum had been worried.
‘He’s not right for you,’ she warned me.
Yes, Paul was a few years older, a bit rough and ready.
‘But he looks after me,’ I told Mum.
Now I realised she’d been right.
What I’d thought was kindness revealed itself to be something else. Control.
Before I knew it, Paul had moved in with me and my baby son.
Everything had to be done
He thought that I’d slept with the doctor
the way he wanted, and his temper was terrible.
He wouldn’t ever let me go out alone.
Soon, my friends stopped inviting me and I could only watch their fun on Facebook.
‘What are you doing on your phone?’ Paul would bark, accusing me of messaging other blokes.
I’d never cheat, but I couldn’t make him listen. I felt so trapped. Then, that May in 2014, I found out I was pregnant.
When I told Paul, his face lit up.
‘That’s the best news!’ he said, instantly calling his parents.
Despite my doubts, I was buoyed up. Maybe this baby will be a fresh start for us? I thought. Only, when I was 18 weeks pregnant, I felt sharp pains in my belly, found blood in my knickers.
Paul and I rushed to Vale of Leven Hospital and I was seen by a doctor.
‘We’ll need to examine you,’ he said.
I saw Paul’s jaw twitch, hoped I’d imagined it.
But I must have looked concerned, as the doctor gave me a kind smile.
‘Don’t worry,’ he reassured. ‘There’ll be a female chaperone in with us.’
As I was given an internal examination, Paul waited outside with my son.
‘Everything looks fine,’ the doctor said afterwards. ‘A little bleeding is common in pregnancy.’
Getting dressed, I felt so relieved.
‘Baby’s OK!’ I gushed to Paul as the curtain was pulled back.
He shrugged. But as we left the hospital, Paul kicked off.
‘You had sex with that doctor, didn’t you?’ he raged.
It was such a ludicrous idea, I just stared at him.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’
I said. ‘He was only checking our baby was OK!’
But his ranting continued as we got home.
After putting the baby down for a nap, I came back to the living room, hoping Paul had calmed down. Fat chance.
‘Take your clothes off,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll give you my
own internal examination.’
He snatched roughly at my jogging bottoms, ripped off my knickers.
‘Stop!’ I begged, frozen as Paul sexually assaulted me.
Then, soon after, as I reeled about what had just happened, he grabbed my throat as I held my son on the sofa.
When I placed my son down, Paul turned to me again, demanding sex.
‘I don’t want to,’ I whimpered, terrified.
That didn’t matter to Paul. I cried as he held me down and raped me.
Later that evening, as I cradled my emerging bump, engulfed by shame, Paul poured a bottle of baby milk over my body, followed by the contents of two stinking ashtrays.
‘Smile,’ he leered, taking pictures of me on his phone.
‘Why are you doing this?’ I begged.
But Paul wasn’t finished with me yet...
After I’d gone to bed, he woke me up at 3am.
‘I’m going to stab you. I’m going to slash your face. I’ll gladly do three years for it,’ he raged.
He grabbed my face and pinned me down to the bed.
I prayed for my babies. The one sleeping soundly in his cot, the one inside me.
I have to escape, I thought. Then, as Paul slept, I took my son and fled to my friend’s house. When she opened the door I collapsed in her arms.
‘It’ll be OK,’ she said, wrapping her arms round us both.
It only took a few hours before Paul found me.
‘Come home!’ he screamed, hammering on the door.
My friend called the police, who arrived and arrested Paul.
I gave a statement before going back to Mum and Dad’s place.
‘You’re safe now,’ Mum promised me.
But my baby wasn’t. Two days later, I started having agonising cramps. I was bleeding again, too. Mum rushed me to hospital and as the sonographer scanned my tummy, her face dropped. ‘Please, no,’ I wailed. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. My baby had died at 18 weeks. Paul did this, I thought, darkly. He’s stolen my baby.
Doctors said it was impossible to confirm it. But in the days before miscarrying, I’d been beaten, raped, more scared than I thought possible.
All because Paul thought I’d slept with the doctor.
Our baby had been confirmed healthy that day.
How could Paul not be to blame for the fact it’d died?
In February 2015, Paul Meechan, then 23, appeared at Glasgow High Court.
I should have had a 1-month-old baby.
Instead, our child was dead and it only made me want justice more.
Meechan pleaded guilty to assault, indecent assault and rape against me, and a charge of assault of another woman between April 2009 and January 2013.
He was jailed for nine years, will be monitored for another three. On the sex offenders register for life.
But Meechan will always be a danger to women.
I’ve since found happiness with a man who’s great with my eldest son, now 6, and my youngest, now 4.
But the baby I lost is always in my mind.
If only I could forget the vile brute who snatched him away.
IF YOU’VE BEEN RAPED, SEXUALLY ABUSED OR SEXUALLY ASSAULTED, CALL THE RAPE CRISIS NATIONAL HELPLINE ON 0808 802 9999 FOR SUPPORT SERVICES IN YOUR AREA.