When Aria gives birth to her and Dave’s firstborn, she is horrified to see him leave the hospital just because his mum called. Things get even worse when Aria learns that the reason is because Dave needed to help his mother with groceries. What will Aria do next?
I never thought I would be writing this, but here I am, needing to speak out and share a valuable lesson my husband learned the hard way.
I am 32 years old and entering the season of motherhood. My husband, Dave, is 34 and has always had a bit of a complicated relationship with his mother.
Marlene is the kind of mother who calls at every little thing, expecting him to drop everything and come over as soon as she needs him.
‘Hey, Aria,’ Dave was saying. ‘Mum needs me, I’ll be right back.’
And he’d run out of the house, ready to save the day.
I found it funny until the day I went into labour. I was in my 38th week and knew the time was getting closer.
One evening I felt the contractions start. Everything went smoothly until it was about six hours of agonising labour.
‘Just breathe, honey,’ Dave said, squeezing my hand. ‘Before you know it, our baby girl will be born!’
But then Dave’s phone rang, and he quickly went out into the corridor to take the call. When he returned, he looked a little flustered.
And a few minutes later, a text message arrived on his phone. He read it and looked worried, his eyes darting around the room as he sank into his thoughts.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked, already feeling anxious and vulnerable.
He looked at me, almost annoyed that I had the audacity to ask him.
‘I have to go, Aria. But it’s going to be quick. I’ll be quick, I promise.’
‘What?’ I sighed, wrinkling my nose at another contraction. ‘Dave, I need you right here. I need you to be with me! Our baby is coming soon!’
He took a deep breath.
‘I know. Of course I know,’ he said, barely making eye contact. ‘But it’s my mum, and she said she really needs my help.’
‘For what?’ I almost shouted. ‘You’re leaving me here because of your mum? I’m sure she’s fine!’
‘I’ll be right back, Aria,’ he said. ‘I swear.’
He kissed my forehead and hurried away.
I couldn’t believe he actually did that. It made no sense at all. I knew my husband loved being around his mother, but for him to abandon his wife during childbirth?
Was this really the man I married?
I felt abandoned during one of the most vulnerable moments of my life.
I tried to focus on the labour, paying attention to my breathing and everything that was happening to my body. But then my phone buzzed with a text from Dave.
I’ll be back soon, Aria. I promise. Mum just needs some help.
Is something wrong? Is she okay?
No, she’s fine. She just bought groceries and they’re too heavy.
Are you serious, Dave? I’m having a baby and you ditch me for groceries?
Yeah, I’m serious. And stop being so selfish, Aria. My mum needs me.
I was in shock. My blood pressure started to rise, which alerted one of the nurses.
‘Tell me what’s wrong?’ – She said, looking at the monitor showing my vitals.
I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t know how to say a complete sentence without breaking down completely.
‘Tell me, dear,’ the nurse said. ‘It will be better if you tell me everything.’
‘My husband left me here,’ I said between deep breaths. ‘His mum needed help with the groceries, and he…left.’
The nurse’s eyes widened in bewilderment.
‘He left you while you were in labour? For groceries? Oh, dear!’
‘Yes,’ I whispered, feeling the full weight of the situation pressing down on me.
‘Is there anyone else we can call? Someone who could just hold your hand while your husband comes back?’ – The nurse asked.
I nodded.
‘My dad,’ I said. ‘He lives a few minutes from here, and I know he’s coming here.’
Luckily, my dad was around the corner eating fast food when I called, and he rushed over with his food.
‘Honey,’ he said, walking into the room where the smell of fried chicken wafted.
‘Where’s Dave?’ – he asked.
I told my father the truth about Dave leaving me. And as I did so, the contractions became more frequent.
My baby girl was on her way.
‘Please, Gloria,’ I said to the kind nurse. ‘Can you record the birth? I wanted my husband to do it, but he has his VCR with him.’
‘Of course, dear,’ Gloria said. ‘I’ll get an intern to do it all, and I’ll hold your hand the whole time myself.’
Shortly thereafter, I gave birth to our beautiful daughter Gabrielle without Dave by my side.
Instead, I had Gloria on one side of me and my dad on the other.
As I held my newborn daughter in my arms, emotions overwhelmed me. Joy, love and sadness were intertwined. My father sat beside me, his eyes full of pride and concern.
‘He’ll regret it, sweetheart,’ my father said softly. ‘But right now, you need to focus on your girl.’