I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You’re really leaving me here, sick, with the baby?”
“You’re the mom,” he said. “You handle this better than I do.”
And with that, he left.
I managed to get through the weekend somehow—sick, exhausted, and completely overwhelmed. There were moments when I cried in the shower just to let it out. But when I made it to the other side, I realized something: if he could walk away that easily, he needed to understand exactly what I had been dealing with.
A week later, I texted him:
“Feeling better. You can come home now.”
He replied right away. “Thank goodness. I can’t sleep here. Mom’s dog snores and she keeps asking me to do yard work.”
Yard work. While I’d been trying to care for our child through a fever and nonstop coughing.
When Drew walked through the door, everything felt normal—at least at first. I smiled, welcomed him back, and then casually handed him Sadie. “Can you hold her? I need to grab something upstairs.”
I came back five minutes later with an overnight bag and my car keys.
He blinked. “What’s that?”
“I’m taking the weekend off. I booked a stay at a spa. Just two nights. I need rest too.”
He stared at me. “You’re… leaving? Now?”
“Yes. I’ve packed bottles. Diapers are stocked. Emergency numbers are on the fridge. You’re the dad—you’ve got this.”
He looked unsure, but I was already out the door.
I drove to a peaceful inn, where I turned off my phone, put on a robe, and finally took a deep breath. That night, I had a long massage, room service, and uninterrupted sleep. I felt like myself again.
He called a couple of times. Left messages about how Sadie wouldn’t nap and how complicated her routine was.
I waited until the next day to FaceTime, just to see her face. I missed her more than I expected. And despite everything, I still cared about Drew.
When I got home on Sunday evening, the house was a mess—but Sadie was sleeping peacefully in his arms. He looked up at me, tired and a little overwhelmed.
“I get it now,” he said. “I really do.”
“Do you?” I asked.
“I messed up. I wasn’t there for you,” he said.
I handed him a printed schedule—everything from bedtime routines to laundry duty, with his name next to half of it.
“I need a partner,” I said. “Not someone who checks out when things get hard.”
He nodded. “I’m in.”
Since then, he’s made an effort. He’s gotten up for nighttime feedings, helped with meals, changed diapers without being asked. It’s not perfect—and it’s going to take time to rebuild trust. But I’m hopeful.
Because being a parent and a partner isn’t just about being around when things are easy. It’s about showing up, staying present, and being part of the hard stuff too.
If this story resonated with you, like and share. Someone out there might need the reminder: You deserve a partner who shows up—even when it’s hard. 💛