I’m currently pregnant with baby number two, and you know how when people say that your second pregnancy will be more emotional? I initially didn’t believe it as I thought it was an old superstition my mother shared. However, there is some truth to it. Although it had nothing to do with my baby and all about my husband.
Most of my second pregnancy saw me wanting to hide and fulfill my junk food cravings. However, Ava, my best friend, wanted me out of the house so we could do things together,While making a strawberry milkshake for me as I put my swollen feet up, she mentioned hearing about this cool pottery place. She shared how one signed up for some sort of pottery party. I asked if we’d make pottery, thinking of a hundred other things I’d prefer doing instead.
Smiling as she blended my drink, she noted: “Not necessarily. We could just paint pottery instead. Come on, Liv, let’s do it together!” She sold it by noting how we could create stuff for my upcoming baby’s nursery, and I reluctantly agreed but promised her that she’d owe me anything the baby craved that night, and a deal was made, and
“I’ve already told Malcolm to watch Tess for the evening while we’re out,” my friend added.Since she wasn’t the biggest fan of my husband, seeing how she had already spoken to him about our evening made me realize how much she wanted me out of the house.We arrived at the pottery place, and 15 women were booked for the same slot. They all wanted to unwind, sip beverages, and just have fun, all of which Ava had promised me as well. Little did we know that we were in for a wild ride,
While chatting about birth stories — the women shared theirs or spoke about someone close to them.
Then, one of them started sharing about how she went on a date with her boyfriend, and he had to leave suddenly because his sister-in-law (SIL) went into labor. “It was the 4th of July, and we were at my flat watching a movie when he said that Olivia was in labor.” She revealed that she asked him why he had to go as it was almost midnight, and they were exhausted. However, he brushed her off, saying it was a family thing and they all wished to be there when the baby was born.
My friend and I exchanged looks because my firstborn, Tess, was born on the same day, and my name was Olivia. After that, the woman spoke about her birth story, which happened six months later. I was looking at all the different colors of paint when she said to the group:”But Malcolm missed it! Can you imagine?” “He was there for his niece’s birth but not our son’s!” Her Malcolm said he was babysitting his niece, Tess, and couldn’t leave. “What are the odds?”
Ava whispered to me. “Wait, your boyfriend’s name is Malcolm?” I asked the woman, who nodded. Showing her my phone’s screensaver — a photo of Malcolm, Tess, and myself — I asked if that was him. She nodded again, looking at me blankly before muttering, “Your husband? But he’s the father of my child, too.” My heart sank, and the room spun as I tried to process things. The pottery party became a surreal nightmare. It dawned on me that my husband had not only cheated on me but had also fathered a child with this woman. The other women exchanged sympathetic glances, realizing the depth of the matter. Feeling overwhelmed, I excused myself from the gathering and left, tears streaming down my face. I stood in the bathroom and tried to get my bearings.Today, I confronted Malcolm, refusing to let this fester, mainly because I was due in five weeks. Before bringing my baby into this mess, I needed to know how to move forward. He reluctantly admitted to his affair and the child he had fathered. Now, I’m eating chocolate and researching divorce lawyers.