When Aria goes into labor with her and Dave’s first child, she’s stunned to watch him walk out of the hospital simply because his mother called. Everything becomes even more unbelievable once she realizes he left to help carry his mother’s groceries. And at that point, Aria has to decide what she’s going to do next.
I never pictured myself writing something like this, but I need to get it out. I need to talk about the lesson my husband learned in the hardest way possible.
I’m 32, about to become a mother for the first time. Dave is 34 and has always had this complicated bond with his mother.
Marlene is the kind of mom who calls for the smallest inconvenience and expects Dave to come running the moment she snaps her fingers.
“Aria,” Dave would say. “Mom needs me. I’ll be right back.”
And he would rush out like a firefighter responding to an alarm.
I used to think it was sweet… until the night I went into labor. I was 38 weeks along, and I could feel that we were finally at the finish line.
One evening the contractions began. Everything seemed manageable at first, even after hours of pain.
“Just breathe, sweetheart,” Dave said, holding my hand. “She’ll be here before we know it.”
But then Dave’s phone rang, and he quickly stepped into the hallway. When he returned, something was off. He looked rattled, unsettled.
A few minutes later, another message came through, and I watched his expression tighten as he read it.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, already on edge.
He looked at me like I was inconveniencing him.
“I need to go, Aria. I’ll be quick. I promise.”
“What?” I gasped as another wave of pain hit. “Dave, stay here. I need you. The baby is coming!”
He let out a heavy sigh.
“I know that, okay? But my mom says she needs my help. Badly.”
“For what?” I demanded. “You’re really walking out on me right now? She’s fine!”
“I’ll be right back,” he said, barely meeting my eyes. “I swear.”
He kissed my forehead and rushed away.
I stared at the door after it closed. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that he was actually leaving. Leaving me when our child was on the way. Leaving me because his mother called.
Was this really the man I married?
I felt abandoned during one of the most terrifying and vulnerable moments of my life.
I focused on breathing, on staying calm, on surviving the contractions. Then my phone buzzed. A text from Dave.
I’ll be back soon. I promise. Mom just needs some help.
Did something happen to her?
No. She’s fine. She just bought groceries and can’t lift them.
You left me for grocery bags? I wrote back, furious.
Stop being selfish, Aria. My mom needs me.
My chest tightened. My blood pressure spiked, setting off an alert on the monitor.
“What’s happening?” a nurse asked, eyes flicking to the screen.
I shook my head, tears spilling out. I could barely get the words out without breaking.
“Tell me, honey,” the nurse said gently. “You’re safe. Say it.”
“My husband left,” I choked out. “He left because his mom needs help with her groceries.”
The nurse stared at me in disbelief.
“He left you while you’re in labor? For groceries? Oh, sweetheart.”
I nodded, and more tears fell.
“Is there anyone else you can call? Someone who can stay with you?” she asked.
“Yes,” I whispered. “My dad. He lives a few streets away.”
Thank goodness he was close. He was grabbing takeout when I called, so he rushed straight over, still holding his food.
“Sweetheart,” he said as he came in, the smell of fried chicken filling the room. “Where’s Dave?”
I told him everything. Every ridiculous detail. The contractions were coming faster, and I knew Gabrielle was on her way.
“Please, Gloria,” I said to the nurse, “can you record the birth? Dave has the camera, and I still want it filmed.”
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll bring someone in to do it while I stay with you.”
And that’s how it happened.
I delivered our beautiful daughter without Dave. On one side was Gloria. On the other was my father.
When they placed Gabrielle in my arms, all the emotions crashed together. Joy, exhaustion, heartbreak.
“He’ll regret this,” my dad murmured. “But right now, she’s what matters.”
I nodded, crying quietly.
“I can’t believe he abandoned us,” I whispered. “How do I ever trust him again? If it had been an emergency, fine. But groceries?”
“Dave will have to face the weight of that choice,” my father said. “But you’re strong. And you’re not alone.”
Once it was clear that Gabi and I were perfectly healthy, we were discharged. My dad took us straight to his house.
When Dave finally reached the hospital, we were already gone. My phone lit up nonstop, but I didn’t answer.
Before leaving, I had one last request.
“Dad, do you have a flash drive?”
He nodded and dug through his bag.
“I’m saving the birth video on it,” I told him. “And I’m leaving it here.”
I handed the drive and a letter to Gloria, asking her to give them to Dave.
The letter said:
Dave,
This is what you missed. This is the moment you chose not to be part of. I needed you more than ever, and you walked out. Our daughter deserved both parents there as she took her first breath. This video shows the strength and courage you’ll never see firsthand.
I hope this helps you understand the pain you caused. I hope it teaches you what it truly means to be a partner and a father.
Aria and Gabi
A few days later, my dad invited our closest family members over to meet Gabrielle. I didn’t include Dave. I wasn’t ready.
He showed up anyway, looking wrecked.
“Please let me explain,” he begged.
I folded my arms.
“Explain what? That you felt grocery bags were more important than your daughter’s birth?”
“I’m sorry, Aria. I panicked. I didn’t know how to choose. I messed up. I know I did. Please forgive me.”
“You left me when I needed you most,” I said. “How do I trust you again?”
He shook his head. “I hate myself for it. I’d do anything to fix this. Please, let me prove I can be the father you and Gabi deserve.”
“This is your only chance,” I said. “Words aren’t enough anymore. You need to show me.”
He nodded over and over.
“I won’t fail you again,” he promised.
One night, as we were settling Gabrielle down to sleep, Dave looked at me with complete sincerity.
“I’m still ashamed,” he said softly. “I don’t want to miss another moment.”
He has apologized repeatedly. I’m waiting to see if his actions match his words.
But one thing still lingers.
I’m still waiting for an apology from my mother-in-law too.
What would you have done?
If this story resonated with you, here’s another:
Am I Wrong for Teaching My Father-in-Law a Lesson after He Tried to Dodge the Bill?
When Carmen’s father-in-law, Jerry, invites her and Leo to dinner, they’re excited for a rare evening out. Jerry makes it sound like he’s treating them. Instead, he hands the bill to Leo, claiming he “lost his wallet.” Once the couple realizes what is really going on, they decide to teach him a lesson.
Last weekend, Jerry invited Leo and me to a high-end restaurant.
“We haven’t had a nice meal together in weeks,” he said. “Let’s enjoy a good evening.”
“Should we pick you up?” Leo asked.
“No,” Jerry said. “I’ll meet you there.”
“This is lovely,” I told Leo. “We never do this. Let’s dress up.”
He agreed, and we headed out.
The place was gorgeous, softly lit with live jazz drifting through the room.
“He really didn’t hold back,” Leo said, taking my hand.
“Hey, you two! Over here!” Jerry called, waving us down with a big grin.