He begged me to have a child, then vanished to his mothers house when our son turned three months old.
My name is Élodie, and Im still reeling from the shock. My husbandthe man who dreamed of a baby, who pleaded with me to become a mother, who swore love and supportwalked out as soon as the real life with an infant began. And he didnt leave alone; he went back to his mom. I was left alonewith our little boy, a bruised back and a heart in tatters.
Pierre and I tied the knot three years ago. At first, everything seemed perfect. We were young, in love, full of dreams. Yet I knew we shouldnt rush into children; we needed to find our footing, get a bigger place, save a little. I understood this because Id grown up with younger brothers and knew the grind of caring for a baby around the clock. Pierre, on the other hand, was an only child, pampered and protected, never having truly faced hardship.
When his cousin had a baby, Pierre became fixated. After each visit he repeated the same mantra:
Come on, Élodie. Its time! Why wait? Young parents manage better. If you keep preparing, we wont get there until were forty.
I tried to tell him a child isnt a toythat you have to get up at night, soothe colic, feed, rock. He just shrugged:
It sounds like youre waiting for a disaster, not a baby!
Our parents only made things worse. My mother and motherinlaw kept promising endless help, insisting everything would be easy. Eventually, I gave in.
During the pregnancy, Pierre was a model husband. He carried the groceries, cleaned, cooked, accompanied me to ultrasounds, ran his hand over my belly whispering love. I thought hed make a good dad.
Unfortunately, the fairytale ended the moment we left the maternity ward. Our son criedoften, for long stretches, with or without reason. I tried to spare Pierre the sleepless nights, but the baby awoke every two hours. I paced the apartment, rocked him, sang lullabies, but in our tiny tworoom flat there was no escape from the wailing. The kitchen light stayed on all night, and Id see my husband turn over in bed, covering his ears, getting angry.
Gradually he grew irritable. Arguments started. He came home later and later. Then, one night, just after our son turned three months, he grabbed his suitcase and left without a word:
Im going to Moms. I need sleep. I cant do this. Im not asking for a divorce, just Im exhausted. Ill come back when hes older.
I stood in the hallway, baby in my arms, the milk still warm on my chest. He simply walked away.
The next day his mother called, tone calm as if nothing had happened:
Sweet Élodie, I dont agree with Pierre, but this is better. Men arent made to handle infants. Ill come help you. Please dont be too hard on him.
Then my own mother phoned.
Mom, do you think this is normal? I whispered, tears brimming. He was the one who wanted this child, and now he abandons me. What do I do?
Honey, dont make a rash decision. Yes, he ran away, but not to another womanback to his mother. That means he hasnt completely given up. Give him time. Hell return.
But Im no longer sure I want him back.
He broke me. He betrayed me at my most vulnerable moment. When all I could think of was our son, the three of us, he threw up his hands. He didnt even last a few months. Now I wonder can I ever trust him again? Rely on him? He was the one who pushed for this baby, and as soon as the infant arrived, he fled.
Now everything rests on me: our son, the daily grind, the exhaustion, the fear. And one question that wont leave me: if he abandoned me in such a moment, what will happen next?
He Begged Me for a Child, then Ran Back to His Mother When Our Son Turned Three Months Old.
