When I was pregnant with our first child and told my husband, we both jumped into the air with grace and joy, laughing from the pit of our stomachs. We were going to have an extension of our love, and we were going to love him so much with all of our hearts and soul.
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During that pregnancy, my husband, who worked far from home, came home every Friday and left again on Monday. In between, he would call on video. He would say he was calling to see how the baby was growing. I would position the camera well and let him talk to the baby.
Years after, I got pregnant again. Because this was going to be our second child, I was expecting some level of the joy he showed with our first. Maybe responsibilities clear our eyes, but at least something. For the greater part of the pregnancy, he did not come home like he used to. He even used to forget that I was with child. I would ask him what was happening. He would respond, “It’s nothing.” But there was something, especially with the way he was handling his phone. If you teach a woman to worry, she learns fast. His phone was always off or on airplane mode. You would think he was a pilot.
Because I did not want to trouble myself during the pregnancy, I locked my mouth. One day, I overheard him talking to a woman on the phone. I could not hear everything because their voices were muffled, but it sounded like an argument. More importantly, it sounded like my husband was determined not to let her have the last word.
I walked into the room, coughed, and pretended I was looking for something. He immediately stepped outside to continue the conversation.
When he returned, I asked who it was.
He said it was a colleague at work who had broken a computer and was trying to shift the blame onto him.
Then, when I was eight months pregnant, I received a call from a woman. She was begging me to inform my husband not to run away from his duties. His duties as a father to her one month old baby. While I was here, at home making a family for him, he was there entertaining a woman in his room, playing husband and wife.
She said he had abandoned her to her fate and was no longer providing for her.
I replied, “What do you want me to do for you?” She said, “I am calling you to convince him to support us. I can’t do it alone.”
I laughed at her. I asked why she did not call when they started the relationship, when she was enjoying the greater and sweet side of him.
How can I convince a man to take care of you, when he too has left me to my fate? He was no longer providing money for upkeep, for anything.
Fortunately, he did not lie when I confronted him about it. He accepted fault and blamed the devil. He blamed everything and everyone else for it.
I am currently writing this from the hospital. I have put to birth our baby. And he is here, holding her cheeks, laughing and making baby sounds.
Before I even try to get up and walk to the bathroom, he is beside me, asking, “Take it slow, slow.” This morning, he fed me. The nurses were praising him for being a good husband.
He laughs and continues what he is doing. I look at his head and laugh too. He is currently worshiping the ground I walk on. And I don’t know why. He did not do all of this when I was pregnant. Now what is the difference?
I Called My Girlfriend And Another Man Answered The Phone
He can try all he wants, but he does not know that once I leave this hospital, I am calling this charade of a marriage off.
I am walking away from a man who has the temerity to have and live two lives, from a woman who has done nothing but submit to you like the Bible says. He wanted to have his cake and eat it. I will be leaving him to choose that life. And I won’t be part of it.
For my sake, for my children. Eight years of marriage is not easy to throw away, but this kind of disrespect is one I am not taking. I won’t take it.
—Regina
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