I Rushed Out of My Husband’s Birthday Celebration after What He Did

At my husband’s birthday dinner last week, I was attempting to find a grin despite my 39-week pregnancy. I grabbed my daughter’s hand and left after he turned to face me and muttered something. I will always remember that evening. No one in the family will, I’m sure.

Everyone calls me Cathy, even though my name is Catherine. I am 38 years old and 39 weeks along with my second child. The baby might arrive at any moment.

I feel like a balloon about to pop because my belly is so tight. My legs hurt every time I take a step. Do you sleep? What is that? It’s been weeks since I’ve slept through the night.

Zoey is already here. She is four years old, full of pigtails and incessant inquiries. However, this pregnancy has been unique. More difficult, to be honest. According to the doctor, it’s because I’m over 35. They refer to it as high risk.

Last week, Dr. Smith informed me, “Cathy, you need to take it easy.” “Rest is crucial now.”

Get some rest. Correct. Inform Alan of that.

There has only been one ultrasound appointment that my husband has attended. Out of dozens, one. I have, however, attended every examination, test, and anxious time by myself.

His words, “I have to work, Cath,” are constant. “Someone has to pay the bills.”

Weekends, though? He also works those. While my feet bulge like balloons and my back screams, he was willingly abandoning me to follow a four-year-old about.

For months, I’ve been pleading with him to assist with the nursery. You know, simple things. Boxes should be moved. Draw the curtains. Assemble the crib.

He vowed, “I’ll get to it,” Each and every time.

The nursery remains partially completed. There are boxes all over the place. No drapes. And like a lost thought, the cradle rests against the wall.

“When are you going to finish this?” Two weeks ago, while massaging my sore lower back, I asked him.

“Cath, soon. You’re constantly bugging me, God.

Are you bugging me? Correct.

Alan’s 39th birthday was last Tuesday. Kelly, his sister, gave him a call that morning.

“I would like to have a small celebration for him at my house. Not very fancy. Just dinner with the family. You, my boyfriend Jake, Mom, Dad, Alan, and Zoey.”

It had a pleasant sound. Perhaps we could spend a quiet evening together, I thought.

“Kelly, that sounds fantastic. Thank you.

The afternoon was spent preparing. As prepared as a woman who appears to have ingested a watermelon, that is. I dressed in my most elegant pregnancy gown. When I was expecting our first kid, Alan used to smile at the old one.

He was completely unaware.

It was about six when we got to Kelly’s place. The air was heavy with the aroma of roast chicken. Jazz music sounded softly through the speakers. The dining table had flickering candles. It was divine.

“Happy birthday, son!” Alan’s mother, Grace, gave him a firm embrace. She has always shown me kindness. Really, she’s more of a mother than I am.

“I’m grateful, Mom. Kel, this looks fantastic.

It was a wonderful beginning to dinner. Alan’s favorites had all been manufactured by Kelly. Add herbs to a roast chicken. potato mash. Casserole with green beans. The chocolate birthday cake with vanilla frosting was resting on the counter.

Zoey talked about her preschool day. Grace inquired about my pregnancy. From his work at the fire station, Jake shared amusing anecdotes.

I made an effort to ignore my pelvic pressure. Every time I moved in my chair, my back ached. Alan had a night like this. I desired it to be unique.

Halfway through the main course, Alan turned to face me, beaming as if he had just found a solution to end world hunger.

“Cath, you know what? Why don’t you take Zoey home and put her to bed after dinner? I’ll remain here with all of you. And continue the celebration.”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

He grinned more broadly and enthusiastically. “Get moving, sweetie! Before the baby is born, this is my last opportunity to truly rejoice. Jake and I would want to share a beer. On the balcony, perhaps, smoke a cigar. Remain up late as you used to.

The fork clattered against my plate after slipping out of my fingers.

“You’d like me to go? and bring Zoey home by herself?”

“Well, yeah.” Alan shrugged as though this made perfect sense. “Anyway, you’re exhausted, right? You often complain about how exhausted you are. Additionally, Zoey has to be put to bed by someone.

I gazed at my spouse. I had been in love with this man for eight years. with whom I had established a life. who was meant to be my companion.

“Alan. My pregnancy is 39 weeks along. Tonight, the baby might arrive.

“Oh, Cath, hurry up. Don’t be theatrical.

At that point, Grace put down her fork and got out of her seat. Her gaze could freeze flames as she fixated her kid.

“Alan.” She spoke with a deadly calm. “Would you mind repeating what you just said to your wife?”

“I said…”

“No.” Grace gestured with one finger. “Word for word. You just told Catherine to do what?

Alan’s cheeks flushed. Seeking encouragement, he glanced around the table. but couldn’t find any.

“I asked her to take Zoey home so I could celebrate my birthday with you guys.”

“Your wife is 39 weeks pregnant. somebody might suddenly become pregnant. You want to smoke cigars and drink beer as she drives your four-year-old kid home by herself.

It sounded much worse when she phrased it that way.

“Mom, it’s not…”

“Sit down, Alan.”

He took a seat.

Grace moved to stand behind my chair after circling the table. She laid her hands lightly across my shoulders.

“Your child is being carried by Catherine. Alan, your kid. She is in pain, tired, and nine months pregnant. And you want to send her away so you can party, rather than caring for her?”

“It’s just one night.”

“Just one evening? What if you’re intoxicated here and she goes into labor? Then what? You’re too inebriated to drive, so she gets an Uber to the hospital.”

“And another thing.” Grace was not done yet. “This woman has accompanied herself to all of her doctor’s appointments. each ultrasound. each examination. while you’ve been playing with your buddies and working on the weekends.”

I started crying. At last, someone noticed it. and at last comprehended.

“She has been requesting your assistance in getting ready for this kid for months. The nursery is not yet complete. Despite having a young kid, you know nothing about labor and delivery. You behave as though you are the one experiencing this pregnancy rather than the two of you working together.

Kelly’s gaze was fixed on her dish. Jake awkwardly cleared his throat. The grownup tension seemed to be confusing Zoey.

“Mom, you don’t understand…”

“Oh, I completely get that. I am aware that my son has lost sight of what husbandhood entails.

The quiet went on and on. Alan’s face turned white instead of red.

I said in a whisper, “I’m going home,”

Grace gave my shoulders a light squeeze. “I’ll accompany you, my love. Tonight, you shouldn’t be by yourself.

With extreme caution, I pushed away from the table. In my joints, every movement felt like shattered glass.

“Come on, baby girl.” I extended a hand to Zoey. “Let’s go home.”

“Is Daddy coming too?”

I gave Alan a peek. He stared at his plate, still in his chair.

“No, sweetheart. Daddy desires to remain here. and have a party.”

Despite a tiny crumple in her cheeks, Zoey accepted my hand.

I didn’t bid anyone else farewell.

Except for Grace’s mild humming in the backseat and Zoey’s question about why everyone appeared depressed, the drive home was quiet.

I was able to say, “Sometimes grown-ups have disagreements, baby,”

“Will you and Daddy be okay?”

Grace’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. She smiled at me a little, dejectedly.

“My dear, I’m not sure. To be honest, I have no idea.”

When I got home, I fell onto the couch and Grace helped me get Zoey ready for bed. It seemed as if someone had struck my back with a sledgehammer.

“Grandma, will you read to me?” With her favorite book in her hand, Zoey asked.

“Of course, little one.”

I sat in the family room contemplating my marriage as they read upstairs. And the man who requested his pregnant wife to leave his birthday party verses the one I assumed I was married to.

We became strangers at what point?

Grace returned with two cups of tea downstairs.

“How long has he been like this?”

ever since I became pregnant. Perhaps earlier. I’m not sure anymore.”

The infant gave my ribs a forceful kick. I felt the area where little feet touched my skin, winced.

“That looked like a big one,” Grace remarked as she observed me intently.

“They are becoming more powerful. According to the doctor, it might happen at any moment.

She gave a contemplative nod. “Are you scared?”

I thought about the query. I would have answered yes a week ago. I’m truly terrified. However, something had changed that evening.

“It’s not about the infant. Everything else is frightening me. About the following step. about if I can accomplish this on my own.”

“My love, you won’t be by yourself. What I said earlier, I meant. My priorities are you and this baby. I’ll be with you no matter what my son chooses to do.”

I gasped after another powerful kick. I was running out of space for this little person inside of me. I would be holding my child in my arms very soon.

“I keep wondering what I’ll tell this baby about tonight,” I said quietly. “About their father choosing a party over being here.”

Grace grabbed my hand as she reached across. “You will inform them that they were desired. Their mother and grandmother really wanted them. That’s what counts.

Back then, the house felt different. less noisy. As if a single dinner conversation had transformed everything.

Alan had yet to return home. I pondered whether he was still enjoying his “freedom” at his sister’s place.

The infant kicked once more, more forcefully this time. As if they’re prepared to face this complex world I’ve introduced them to.

I put both hands on my stomach and muttered, “Little one, I have no idea what your dad is thinking at the moment. However, I can assure you that you will always know you are loved. Not even for a moment.”

I’ll have to make judgments very soon. challenging ones. regarding my marriage. Regarding the type of example I wish to provide for my kids. Regarding whether certain actions are just not acceptable.

I am merely a mother awaiting the birth of her child as I write this. People that genuinely care about us are all around me. And even if the family I want for my kids turns out to be different from what I had in mind, I’m prepared to fight for it.

The others? Well, when the baby comes, we’ll work everything out.