I Didn’t Break! The Perfect Wife
My beloved left me when he found out I was pregnant. I guess I just didn’t realize he didn’t love me as much as I thought. Neither he nor his family, including his sister, my close friend, wanted anything to do with their daughter-granddaughter-niece. But I didn’t demand anything of them. We all made our choices: he found a new girlfriend, and I went ahead and had the baby without a husband.
Once, my mother said, “Leave. I’ll let you come back if you have an abortion.” Mum raised me on her own. She didn’t want the same fate for her daughter. She was entitled to feel that way. But I will never say anything like that to my daughter.
We will be each other’s support. Our home will not have any whining about a lack of money or male help. I had just graduated from college and was already working, but managed to get a spot in a student dorm and even secured a small flat. I bought some furniture and household items with my salary. I had nothing at all. There were no fancy juices and fruits for this pregnant lady!
There was just about enough for bread and milk. There were fatigue, tears, and dreadful sleepless nights. But I didn’t want pity. I kept smiling. His friends would visit. I spoke only good things about him; I didn’t dwell on the grievances. I needed strength for the child I carried. Once, I heard a saying: no one owes you anything. A bit blunt, but essentially true. Why should someone save me when I chose to take responsibility for my own life and that of my little one?
My daughter was born in December. We welcomed the New Year together. My new friends, fellow students, gathered, played the guitar, drank tea, and took turns helping with the baby’s clothes. Molly did her bit by eating, sleeping, and cheerfully babbling in between. Many told me there was an incredible sense of joy and lightness in our home. And one day, I noticed one of the students visiting more often and staying longer.
He was kind, handy, and, by the way, handsome. James was 4 years younger than me. I locked up my heart and forbade myself from making plans, enjoying every moment we spent together. Then I met his mother. She asked through him for permission to visit us and… on the first day, she called me daughter.
Now, my husband and I live in another dorm. Everything in the room was crafted by his hands. He says I am the perfect wife. My mom and I reconciled. She dotes on her granddaughter. On weekends, we visit his parents in a nearby town. There, Molly rushes to her second grandmother, and they spend two days inseparable.
I shudder to think: if I had tried to cling to someone who didn’t love me, would I have had anything like this? Just a husband who didn’t notice me, a mother-in-law convinced I ruined her son’s life, guilt, and crying into my pillow.
God gave me far more than I asked for.
