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He Locked the Door and Drew My Blood
I was nine months pregnant. Due any day. My husband Dorian Marino borrowed a Ford F-150 from the auto parts plant where he worked. He parked it in the driveway. Tank was full, he said. Ready to go the second I needed the hospital. Sometime before dawn, my stomach started tightening in waves. I went to the bathroom. Blood on my underwear. I shook him awake immediately. He backed the truck up to the door. Loaded a can of baby formula and a box of canned goods onto the back seat. Stuff we'd picked up from the church food pantry the week before. He came back inside, grabbed my insurance card and my prenatal folder, and headed straight for the door. I was holding onto the doorframe. My legs gave out. "Dorian. Help me. I can't walk." He finally turned around. His face was all panic. "Sofia fell. She hit her stomach. She might go into early labor. Roth needs to see your insurance info and prenatal records first." I nearly slid to the floor. I grabbed his sleev......