Ever had one of those evenings where the stress is sky-high, tears are a heartbeat away, and your oblivious husband is sitting there all…non-pregnant?
Today, we peel back the layers on the subject of “my pregnancy anger at my husband.”
Just when we should have been strengthening our bond in anticipation of our new arrival, our relationship took a detour.
And it’s painful to write, but I remember how alone I felt harboring an internal wrath yet I was the one in the hot seat.
After reading, you may gasp at our Instagram pictures thinking “It’s all for the gram.”
But, unlike faked social media feeds, I admit: we didn’t start from the bottom, but somehow we ended up there.
This post is all about my pregnancy anger at my husband.
Table of Contents
Pregnant Pause of a Plot Twist
Our love story was something out of a romantic novel – two years of dating, barely any disagreements, let alone arguments.
I had no intentions of dating my husband since I was already in a relationship, but little did I know, I was literally meeting the man of my dreams.
At least, until my second dream came true.
Right around the time my husband bought his first house, our twosome was set to become a trio.
Yes, I was pregnant.
Coming from a Christian family, I was shocked…so much so that I took the test three times (and once more, at the doctor’s office).
I mean, I was about to be a mom – a dream I always had.
But I stood motionless and frozen staring at the two lines on that pregnancy test.
I could already hear the judgment and gossip because I was going to be seen as the girl who ‘trapped him’ with a pregnancy.
So, how do you tell your boyfriend, fresh from buying a house, that he’s about to be a dad?
Well, I didn’t…for at least two weeks.
And when I did, it took a cascade of not-so-joyous tears for me to break the news.
When Tears Lead to Wedding Bell
Our initial conversation about the pregnancy was teary, but not in the way I’d always imagined.
Despite the initial shockwaves, my then-boyfriend was the supportive guy I knew and loved.
I was prepared to parent alone to avoid him feeling “rushed” especially since I was already living on my own (before we even met).
But, as I wiped away tears, he asked me to move in with him and even suggested getting married.
Now, pregnancy-wise, our little girl was an absolute gem, making mommyhood feel like a breeze.
That was until my knight in shining armor pretty much transformed into a stranger.
The change in his behavior, purposely overworking, the late-night arguments – all of it started taking a toll on me.
Our heated exchanges became more frequent, leaving me feeling alone and stressed.
It was like living on a seesaw – between the joy of expecting our baby girl and the fury of feeling unsupported and disrespected.
I Realized I Married A Monday
As the weeks rolled by, my husband’s behavior didn’t change, no matter how many times I left or how many arguments we had.
It was as if every joyful milestone was overshadowed by a frustrating argument.
Weekends that should have been filled with baby shopping sprees or cozy movie nights became another set of days with him either glued to a gaming screen or hanging out with his friends.
The sweet anticipation of converting the only other room in the house into a nursery became a battlefield of egos that pushed me further into a pit of frustration.
It was also about the financial stinginess of the empty fridge, dwindling groceries, and being encouraged to eat a salad instead of craving cheesecake.
So, I welcomed my pregnancy anger at my husband as it stirred inside as our baby girl grew within me.
And while we did finally make it to Zales for that wedding ring, it was not without tears.
Eleven years later as happy as we are today, I still can’t bring myself to put up a wedding photo on our walls.
Eighteen Months of Retribution
For all my husband’s failings, I clung to the belief that he was the man I fell in love with.
There were moments of remorse, moments when I saw glimpses of the supportive partner I knew he could be.
Those moments were few and far between, but they kept me going.
I knew my husband was fresh out of college with his first full-time job — new adult feelings I already experienced a year early.
I knew he was working 70-hour weeks to pay off college debt and his new mortgage.
I knew he was nervous about becoming a father.
But what he didn’t know was the weight of my “understanding” started to self-deprecate and I continued to blame myself.
When I finally gave birth, my pregnancy anger instantly morphed into such an unethical rage of retaliation.
Ironically, and unintentionally, the nine months I endured his behavior became 18 months of my revenge.
Looking back, this period of our lives was a turbulent one, but it taught me a lot about resilience and forgiveness.
The Echo of Regret
Looking back, I realize how valid my feelings of anger were.
I also realized the importance of elevating my self-esteem and how underutilized prayer is in marriage.
Despite the stormy weather, I held onto hope, believing that the clouds would eventually part.
And they did.
While my husband emotionally and mentally made me question myself into a ball of frustration, I responded verbally with things I regret to this day.
So, on paper, we were even and struggled through several months of counseling.
It wasn’t until we randomly decided to move 18 hours away from family and friends that we learned to depend on each other in a way that completely changed us.
And though those dark days seem like a distant memory now, they left an indelible mark on me, on us.
This post was about my unsupportive husband during pregnancy.
If you’re a fellow momma bear fueled by a fiery pregnancy anger like I was, I’ve got news for you – it’s not a solo journey.
We all kicked off this adventure from the starting line, but rest assured, we didn’t pitch our tents there.
My husband and I had an amazing dating relationship but fell face-first as we transitioned to a family of three.
Your mantra should be: press on, hang in there, and, above all, keep praying.
However, always remember, if you’re in a situation that feels unsafe, or if you’re in dire need of medical attention, there’s no substitute for professional help.
I’m in tears writing this because it’s not easy discussing such a taboo topic of marital woes.
Pregnancy is indeed a beautiful journey…and I’m grateful I was blessed enough to experience it twice more (under better circumstances).
Other posts you may like:
- Lazy Wife Lifestyle: When the Overfilled Hamper Becomes Home Decor
- Submission Is STILL Sexy: Don’t Be Fooled
- How I Went From Hot and Bothered to I Have No Desire for My Husband
Today, we’re a family of five complete with the picket white fence and even a Golden Retriever.
My husband is my best friend, and he’s literally been my rock through postpartum.
He’s supported even my craziest dreams and carried me through the grief of losing my dad.
We weathered the stormy seas of pregnancy anger, growing stronger as a couple, learning and laughing along the way.
I’ve even learned to appreciate the art of submission and discussed it here: Why Being A Submissive Wife Is Better Than Taking Out the Garbage.
As we keep on this journey, follow along on Instagram where I show real AND raw behind-the-scenes of spilled milk MOMents navigating parenthood with my husband.
*If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic abuse, please don’t hesitate to reach out to the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233); they’re available 24/7 to lend a supportive ear and provide much-needed resources.
