He begged me to have a child, then fled to his mothers house when our son turned three months old.
My name is Élodie, and Im still reeling from the blow. 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. He didnt leave alone, either; he went back to his mothers. I was left alonewith our little boy, a bruised back and a heart in tatters.
Pierre and I married three years ago. At first, everything seemed perfect. We were young, in love, full of hopes. But I knew one thing: we shouldnt rush into children. We needed to find our footing, buy a bigger place, save a little. I understood this because I grew up with younger brothers and knew the grind of caring for a baby day and night. 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 line:
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 assuring me they would help without limits, that everything would be easy. Eventually I gave in.
During the pregnancy Pierre was a model husband. He did the shopping, cleaned, cooked, accompanied me to ultrasounds, stroked my belly while murmuring his love. I believed he would be a good father.
Unfortunately, the fairytale ended as soon as we left the maternity ward. Our son criedoften, for long stretches, with or without reason. I tried to spare Pierre the night watches, but the baby woke every two hours. I paced the apartment, rocked him, sang lullabies, yet in our tiny tworoom flat there was no escape from the wailing. The kitchen light stayed on all night, and I watched my husband turn in bed, cover his ears, grow angry.
Gradually he grew irritable. Arguments started. He came home later and later. One evening, just after our son turned three months, he grabbed his suitcase without a word.
Im going to Moms. I need sleep. I cant do this. I dont want a divorce, just Im exhausted. Ill come back when hes older.
I stood in the hallway, baby in my arms, warm milk still on my chest. He simply left.
The next day his mother called, calm as if nothing had happened:
Sweet Élodie, I dont agree with Pierre, but this is for the best. Men arent made to handle infants. Ill come help you. Please dont hold it against him too much.
Then my own mother phoned.
Mom, do you think this is normal? I whispered, tears near my eyes. He was the one who wanted this child, and now he abandons me. What do I do?
Darling, dont make a hasty 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 I could think of nothing but our son, the three of ushe gave up. He didnt even stay a few months. Now I wonder can I ever trust him again? Rely on him? He was the one who pushed for this child, who insisted, and as soon as the baby arrived, he fled.
Now everything rests on me: our son, daily life, exhaustion, fear. And a question that haunts me endlessly: if he left me in such a moment, what will happen next?
He Begged Me to Have a Baby, Then Ran Back to His Mother When Our Son Was Just Three Months Old.
