I recently had a baby with my husband, Owen.
we were extremely excited to welcome the little one into our lives, and our families have been supportive at every turn.
The pregnancy went well, and I thought it would be a smooth birth as well, but I wasn’t prepared for the pain.
And neither was Owen, I guess, ’cause he kept making remarks about my yelling.
As I sat across from Owen in the dimly lit living room, our newborn son, Liam, asleep in the next room, I felt a cocktail of emotions swirling within me.
It was only a week ago that we had been in the hospital, me deep in labor, and Owen by my side.
Yet, the memory still bothered me.
I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts and the courage to address what had happened during childbirth.
“Owen,” I started, my voice steady but soft, “we need to talk about what happened at the hospital.” His eyes met mine, a flicker of uncertainty in them.
He nodded, and I took it as my cue to continue. “Do you remember, during labor, when you asked me to stop screaming? You said I was embarrassing you.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a sign I took as recognition.
“Yes, I remember,” he replied, his tone defensive yet tinged with a hint of regret.
I paused, letting his acknowledgment hang in the air between us. “I want you to understand how those words made me feel,” I continued, my voice growing firmer.
“I was in excruciating pain, Owen. I was trying to bring our child into this world, and all you could think about was how embarrassed you were.”
His reaction was not what I had hoped for.
Instead of empathy or even an apology, my husband’s face hardened, and his voice rose in anger.
“It is a woman’s job to listen to her husband, and you could have been quieter during labor!” he retorted angrily.
I must admit, my generally caring and nice husband’s tone caught me off guard.
I felt a surge of disbelief and anger at his response.
How could the man I loved, the father of my child, be so insensitive?
But beneath the anger, I could sense embarrassment and insecurity.
This was not the partnership I had envisioned when we vowed to support each other through life’s challenges.
“Owen,” I said, my voice breaking with emotion, “is that really what you believe?
That my pain and effort should be silenced to save you from discomfort?”
He just looked at me. That was one of the first times I couldn’t really tell what my husband was thinking.
I stood up, utterly disgusted with what I had just heard him say.
I went upstairs, took our newborn out of his crib, and went into the main bedroom.
I stayed there for the better part of the day with the door locked to keep Owen out. I only opened the door again when I heard him start his car and drive off to meet some friends in the evening.
That day gave me some clarity about Owen’s character.
I had seen a part of him I’d never seen before, and I didn’t like it.
I knew I still loved him — how could I not after all the time we’d been together?
But I needed to show him that I wasn’t just there to obey his every word.
So, I used the time on my own to concoct a way to get him to see me as a person and not just as his servant.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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