Mute

I consider myself a Texan. Whenever people in Europe, Asia, or Africa asked where I'm from, I learn to say “from Texas” in the native language. Even in Africa…“Nimi toka Texas!!” It always brought a welcoming smile, soon followed by comments of “Ah… COWBOYS!!!” 

Nerd that I am, all this time I have been packing patents instead of pistols. I put my mad-nerd-skills to work creating companies, and products like MadeSafe, used by schools and hotels across the country to protect teachers and students as well as hotel workers. The protection, safety, and wellbeing of women and children has always been a passion of mine.  It was the inspiration of MadeSafe: push the button and the cavalry comes.  Now I have found a new way to support my need to make sure women and minorities' voices are heard by creating a record label, HigherHill Studios.

Until today I have kept the reasons for that passion private.  Given the drastic overnight changes in Texas, now seems the right time to tell this story.   I’ll have to back up twenty years or so and set the stage...  

Bea and I were unlikely friends back when the world allowed for people with different views to still care for each other. We voted for different Presidents. I was Pro Life, she is Pro Choice. Bea marched for women’s rights, I spoke at the Baptist Student Union.    We agreed to disagree on many things. Even-so, she supported me as I failed fertility treatments and pregnancy tests. Years and countless procedures later, Thing One was born. I built a nursery at the office so I could have my baby with me every day.  I had my miracle in-vitro baby, I had a growing technology business. From the outside, things looked great. 

Then came the exciting, yet fateful September 29, 2008. I was at the conference room in my office signing papers to sell my company. We were shaking hands and congratulating each other on the new alliance when the phones began to ring. The buying team left the room in a rush and came back in with somber faces that they couldn’t close at this time. The market had crashed. Have you heard the saying “the deal isn’t done until the money hits the bank”? Truth.

In one moment, 10 years of hard work was invalidated, and I was stuck with a struggling small business in a great recession. I had family and friends that were depending on me to make this work. I went from disappointed to devastated. I lost so much weight my clothes didn’t fit. The dark circles under my eyes deepened. The situations at work and home became so strained that my seams began to show. There were many layers of my life that I had hid from the outside world because I was ashamed. Pieces of my dignity had been slowly stripped away so artfully I almost didn't notice until they were gone. I isolated myself from my family because they knew who I used to be.

I didn't hide well enough from everyone. Bea sat me down for a heart to heart talk. She noticed my bruises from being “accidentally” pushed down the stairs and other similar accidents. She used words I cringed to hear like "battered" and "abuse". She sat with me while I cried, feeling hurt and ashamed and she reiterated that NO meant NO, even if you are married. 

I filed for divorce. 

The stress was overwhelming. I was trying to keep my business together as my marriage failed, all while raising an observant and playful child. I was still nursing Thing One, but it was getting harder as the exhaustion was taking its toll. I remember being tired like this once before... Surely not. I took a pregnancy test. Negative… Of course I am not pregnant… I can’t even GET pregnant without medical intervention.

Sick or well, rain or shine, the SHOW MUST GO ON...if you are a CEO (or a Mom). You don't get to stop doing you job when you don't feel well. We packed up and went to Las Vegas for a trade show. I kept a condominium right across from the convention center, so I could bring the baby with me. I had help. I hired a nanny to help with the baby during the day while I had meetings. Chef Philip hosted for us at the Condo. He managed our hospitality suite, hosted parties, cooked breakfast, lunch and dinners for us all. Customers used to love to come up to the condo, just for a taste of Philip’s cooking.  

I was blessed to have the resources to be able to curate a business environment where I could keep my baby with me and also lead my company.  Everything worked.  Except when it didn't. I was putting on a brave face 24/7 for these particular customer meetings and even my own birthday party while I played with and fed my baby in between meetings. I hadn't been feeling particularly well, but one night I became uncontrollably sick and was forced to crawl on all fours to the bathroom with cramping and vomiting all along the way.  I called for help with the baby but no answer. I would find out much later that the reason Nanny Amanda was not helping with the baby anymore was the most cliché "nanny-no-no" of all. In desperation I woke up Chef Philip, whose job was not to help take care of the child, and he was a godsend.  He helped me get back into bed, and when I woke up I cried grateful tears because there were clean sheets, clean floors, and a clean and happy baby. He made me promise to see my doctor as soon as I got home.

My doctor called me back with results after the promised appointment. “Vanessa, I don’t know how to tell you this… You’re… Well, you’re pregnant." This doctor had personally removed half of my reproductive system during the emergency delivery of Thing One, and Thing One was a miracle-of-science in-vitro baby. I then received news from my attorney that Texas does NOT allow women to divorce if they are pregnant.  

Trapped. I felt alone, out of options, and overwhelmed. I couldn’t even hide in the shower and cry because I had the baby playing on the floor of the shower.  What was I going to do? How could I possibly take care of Thing One if I had another difficult pregnancy? I spent months on bedrest to bring Thing One to term. My company was struggling. And that wasn't the worst of it.

Bea expressed a sense of urgency that I could become a fatality statistic at the rate things were escalating. My bathroom window was the site of the most recent break in.  I needed to do something, and do it soon.

I swallowed my pride and asked my brother Steven if he would drive me to my next doctor’s appointment. I needed someone in my corner while I looked at some hard truths. I didn't even explain why. I couldn't. I didn't have the words. I got luxurious warmed sonogram goo on my not-showing-yet belly, but I was cold and clammy. Finally, the screen lit up. Sure enough, there was a tiny flickering light whooshing in and out. Oh my. Steven held my hand as I looked at the heartbeat on screen. I looked up at my baby brother, and his eyes were filled with tears too. 

The power and freedom to be in control of my body and to make my own choice transformed my tears from desperation to determination.

I made the most selfish choice of my entire life.

I called in the cavalry, which started by asking for help. Steven picked up the phone and called Melvin, who installed a new lock on my bathroom widow, and then changed the locks on all the doors, as well as reprogrammed the garage door. A few weeks later, there was an another incident, and Steven, Melvin and now Allan showed up as my very own personal brute squad to replace my backdoor and reinforce the entire doorframe where it was kicked in.  

Did you know that many local police forces allow their off-duty officers to be paid to be private protection where they will sit in your living room while you sleep safely until a security system can be installed?  Truth.

When the order for bedrest came, so did my tribe. My friends rallied around us, washing laundry and grocery shopping. My family cooked and played with Thing One. Chef Philip even made me a pie. My management team zoom’ed to my house for meetings. No, not that ZOOM. They literally drove to my house. Jim from my advisory board stepped in at the office to help with the day-to-day, just as Randy did during the pregnancy of Thing One.  God found us Nanny Jessica and she showed up in every possible way. She and her family are still a beloved part of our ever expanding tribe.

Thing One and I welcomed a healthy and cherished Thing Two. In fact, my entire tribe was on hand to welcome them into our world.

The Lone Star State, FINALLY, allowed me to get a divorce.

"BUT FOR THE GRACE OF GOD GO I"

I am now a supporter of every woman’s right to choose. I wasn’t before I had my own not-black-and white decision to make. May you, your wife, your child, your niece, your mother, your sister, your friend never have their own crisis…but if they do, you have a choice. I urge you to consider support and not judgement.

Every child deserves to be loved and cherished, and without choice that can be an overwhelming and impossible task for any woman.

2021 Copyright Vanessa Ogle, All Rights Reserved