The day my son was born should have been the happiest of my life. Instead, it was the day my entire world began to fall apart. When my husband finally showed up at the hospital, what he said left me questioning everything.

I’ve been married to my husband, Ethan, for 21 years. For most of that time, we’ve battled infertility. I’ve shed more tears than I ever thought possible—tears of hope, disappointment, and despair.

When we first started trying, Ethan seemed supportive enough, attending doctor’s appointments and holding my hand as we navigated the maze of treatments. But as the years dragged on, something shifted. He started behaving… differently.

I brushed it off for the longest time, convincing myself it was just the strain of our situation. After all, infertility takes its toll on a marriage. But his late nights at work and secret calls became more frequent.

I’d hear him murmur things like, “I’ll call you later,” before quickly hanging up when I walked in.