I discovered my husband’s evil side when I got sick. He left me and our newborn because he didn’t want to be a good father and husband, so I played along. But I won!
My husband Drew is 33, and we have a six-month-old kid named Sadie. My husband suddenly considered all of that a minor annoyance when I got sick.
Approximately a month ago. I had a terrible virus. Something approximately, not COVID-19 or RSV. Worst part? Sadie had just gotten over a cold, so I was exhausted.
I was unwell, sleep-deprived, and caring for a clingy infant from her recovery. Drew was acting strangely for weeks before I became sick.
He was alone.
For illustration only: Constantly on his phone, laughing during private moments. When I asked what was hilarious, he shrugged and said, “It’s work stuff.”
My husband replied, “You always seem exhausted,” as I rocked Sadie and attempted to conceal a cough one night.
Yes, duh. “I’m raising a human,” I said, annoyed.
I hoped he would see my struggle and help. Help out. Be my husband.
I could scarcely sit up the night my fever hit 102.4! I looked at him and whispered, “Can you please take Sadie? Just lie down for 20 minutes.”
He didn’t blink. I can’t. Your cough keeps me awake. NEED SLEEP. I might stay with my parents a couple nights.”
For illustration only, he did not inquire about Sadie’s care, while I struggled.
“Really leaving me sick and alone with the baby?” I texted.
“You’re mom. You handle this better than me. I’d obstruct. I’m fatigued and your cough is excruciating.”
FINE!
I survived the weekend. I ate little. After Sadie napped, I cried in the shower.
So I did.
Creating my plan. I assumed if he didn’t mind being sick and abandoned, I’d show him.
I texted him a week later.
“Hi babe. I feel lot better. You can return.”
He acted immediately. “Thank God! I rarely sleep here. Mom’s dog snores and she asks for yard work help.”
Yard work. Sad infant. Think about it.
When he entered, everything seemed normal.
I struck after a few minutes of leisure!
“Hey,” I said pleasantly, “Can you hold Sadie? I need something upstairs.”
“Sure,”
Just for illustration, I returned five minutes later with my little suitcase and auto keys. Sadie smiled and babbled in his lap.
He blinked at the movement. What’s that?
“I booked a weekend spa retreat,” I remarked calmly. “Massage, facial, room service. I just need rest.”
He sat up, bewildered. Wait, you’re leaving?
“Yep. Just two nights. I gave directions. She has toys and labeled bottles. We have diapers and wipes. On the fridge are emergency numbers. Got heaps of goods. Everything’s good. I planned ahead for you, unlike you. Besides, you’re dad. You handle this well.”
He began, “Claire, I don’t know what to—”
Raised hand. “No, no. Remember your words last week? ‘You’re mom. You handle this better than me. Now your turn.”
Then I left. I drove 45 minutes to a peaceful, quiet inn with a spa and free chocolate chip cookies in the foyer.
I ignored calls and texts that day.
Instead, I had a 90-minute massage, napped, read by the fireplace, got a manicure, and watched trashy reality shows in a fluffy robe. Bliss!
He called twice. Left 2 voicemails. There was slight panic. Someone tried to guilt-trip me.
“Claire, Sadie won’t nap. Your method is beyond me. Her spit hit me twice. Call me back.”
I did not, for illustration only.
I FaceTimed that evening because I missed my daughter and loved him, unlike him.
War zone when I got home Sunday night! Toys everywhere.
Drew, fatigued and embarrassed, gazed at me like a goddess with boundless abilities.
“I get it now,” he muttered. “I do.”
“Do you?” I requested.
He nodded. “I erred.”
It was a list. A schedule. Morning, night, grocery, laundry, and bath care. His name was on half.
“You can’t tap out anymore,” I said. “I need a partner. No third child.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay. I’m in.”
Since then, he’s tried getting up when baby cries at night, making bottles, and changing diapers!
I’m not stupid. Not forgiving him right away. Still watching. Awaiting decision.
