My Husband Missed the Birth of Our First Child — After Discharge, I Returned to an Empty House and a Creepy Note in the Crib

When Elena is in hospital, ready to give birth to her and Michael’s first baby, she finds herself alone with her mother. Michael was simply nowhere to be found. Upon discharge, Elena walks into the house hoping to find Michael there with an explanation. Instead, she finds a note from Michael blaming Elena’s mother for his disappearance. Where is Michael and what happened?

I always thought that the happiest day of my life was the day I married Michael. But then we found out that I was pregnant, and I figured that the day I gave birth to our baby was going to be the happiest.

A woman holding a pregnancy test | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a pregnancy test | Source: Midjourney

Little did I know that it would be the beginning of a nightmare. Michael had promised me that he would be there, holding my hand as we welcomed our first child into the world.

We had planned every detail together, from the music that would play in the delivery room to the tiny hat he would place on our baby’s head.

But when the time came, Michael just wasn’t there.

A pregnant woman sitting on a hospital chair | Source: Midjourney

A pregnant woman sitting on a hospital chair | Source: Midjourney

I remember the nurses’ sympathetic smiles as they assured me that he was probably just delayed. With each passing minute, the sinking feeling in my stomach grew worse.

I had been calling him for hours, leaving desperate voicemails, but there was no response. As the contractions intensified, so did my fear. Was I really about to do this by myself? What could have kept him from being here?

A close up of a worried woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a worried woman | Source: Midjourney

“Come on, Michael,” I said through gritted teeth.

When my daughter arrived, I was overwhelmed with joy, but it was tainted by the empty spot beside me where my husband should have been. Where was Michael? Why hadn’t he shown up?

My mother was with me throughout, holding my hand when Michael should have been, but I could see the worry in her eyes, too. And if she knew anything, she certainly didn’t tell me.

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

“Just relax, Elena,” my mother said. “Focus on Emily now. And yourself; your body needs a moment.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m just worried.”

After two days in the hospital, I was finally discharged. My mother helped me carry Emily to the car, and we headed home. The ride was silent, and my mother kept drumming her fingers against the steering wheel.

A close up of a woman in a car | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman in a car | Source: Midjourney

I tried to keep myself calm, telling myself that there must be a reasonable explanation for Michael’s absence. Maybe something happened at work. Maybe he’d had an accident and was away in another hospital.

The scenarios grew wilder with each mile we drove.

But nothing could have prepared me for what I found when we got home.

The driveway leading to a house | Source: Midjourney

The driveway leading to a house | Source: Midjourney

The house was eerily quiet. I pushed open the door, half-expecting Michael to be waiting inside with some excuse that I could forgive after seeing the look on his face.

“Michael?” I called out, my voice echoing through the empty rooms. “Michael, are you here?”

No answer.

A postpartum woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

A postpartum woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

“Be quiet, Elena,” my mother said. “Emily is sleeping.”

I ignored her and hurried upstairs. I had to check the nursery; maybe he was in there, just waiting for us to come home. We had spent weeks perfecting our daughter’s nursery to exactly how I envisioned it throughout my pregnancy.

But when I opened the door to the nursery, my breath caught in my throat.

A close up of a shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

The room was almost empty. The crib was there, but all the decorations, the stuffed animals, our daughter’s outfits, and the blankets we had lovingly chosen together were gone. All that remained was a single piece of paper, placed neatly inside the crib.

I love you and our baby, Elena. But I have to leave forever. Ask your mom why she did this. I’ve taken some of Emily’s things to remember you both.

A piece of paper in an empty crib | Source: Midjourney

A piece of paper in an empty crib | Source: Midjourney

I stared at the note, my mind struggling to make sense of the words. What did Michael mean? Why did he have to leave? And what did my mother have to do with any of this?

“Mom!” I shouted, trying to get down the stairs as fast as my postpartum body would allow. I clutched onto the note tightly as I thundered into the living room where she was sitting on the couch with Emily asleep in her arms.

An older woman holding a newborn | Source: Midjourney

An older woman holding a newborn | Source: Midjourney

“What is this?” I demanded, thrusting the note at her. “What did you do? Where is my husband?”

She looked at me with heavy eyes. And for a moment, I saw a flicker of something I couldn’t quite place. Guilt? Regret?

“I didn’t want you to find out this way…” she said quietly.

A close up of an older woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of an older woman | Source: Midjourney

“What? Find out what?” I nearly screamed at her. “What are you talking about? Tell me now!”

She took a deep breath as if steeling herself for what she was about to say.

“I found out something about Michael, honey. And it was just too big to keep to myself. He needed to know that I knew.”

“Knew what? Why are you talking in riddles?” I asked closing my eyes, suddenly exhausted.

A close up of a woman with closed eyes | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman with closed eyes | Source: Midjourney

“He’s been having an affair, darling,” she said. “With someone from his office. Imagine the nerve.”

The words hit me like a physical blow, and I had to sit down quickly.

“No, Mom,” I found myself saying. “That can’t be true at all. Michael wouldn’t do that to us. He loves me! And he’s been so excited about our baby and growing our little family!”

A close up of a shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

“I wish it wasn’t true, darling. Do you think I enjoyed being right?” she asked softly. “I overheard him talking to someone on the phone. They were talking about meeting at a motel. I confronted him about it, and he admitted it. He’s been seeing his boss, a woman who’s much wealthier than we could have ever dreamed. She’s been offering him things he couldn’t refuse.”

“You mean… the promotion? It wasn’t just hard work? And the car wasn’t just because he made a big deal for the company?” I gasped.

A smiling man sitting in his office | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man sitting in his office | Source: Midjourney

My chest felt tight, like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, tears streaming down my face as my lower pelvis ached. “Why didn’t you give me the chance to talk to him? A chance to fix it?”

“Oh, honey,” my mother said soothingly. “I gave him the chance. I told him that he had to tell you everything or leave, for good. I knew that if he told you everything, it would mean that he was still a good man with redeeming qualities. But see this? He chose to leave you, to leave Emily.”

A close up of an upset woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of an upset woman | Source: Midjourney

For a moment, I didn’t want to believe my mother. I wanted to believe Michael, and that there was more to this story. How else could my mother have sat there during my labor, holding my hand while knowing the truth?

It made no sense to me.

Well, one thing made sense to me. My mother had never really taken to Michael in the way I had hoped. She tolerated him and liked that he took care of me. But there was nothing beyond that. They had no other relationship beyond me.

What if my mother just wanted him out?

Unknowingly, I said all these thoughts out loud.

An upset woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

“Really? Elena! You think I’d purposely hurt my daughter and jeopardize her relationship with her father?” my mother cried. “He hurt you by choosing to have an affair. I can tell you everything you need to know, but I need you to believe me.”

This couldn’t be happening. My husband, the man I had trusted with my life, had betrayed me, and my mother had forced him to leave without giving me the chance to even hear him out.

“You shouldn’t have taken that choice away from me,” I said. “You should have let me decide what to do!”

My mother gripped my thigh tightly.

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

“I’m so sorry, Elena,” she said. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want you to suffer more than you already did; this pregnancy was a lot on your body and mind, my darling.”

She seemed earnest enough, but I couldn’t help but be angry with her. All I could think about was how everything I had known, everything I had believed in, had been ripped away in an instant.

My husband was gone, and probably off with his mistress, my mother had betrayed my trust, and I was left alone with a newborn and a broken heart.

A silhouette of a couple | Source: Midjourney

A silhouette of a couple | Source: Midjourney

Emily’s eyes opened, and before I knew it, her little mouth twisted into a cry.

“She’s hungry,” my mother said. “Maybe one day, when Emily goes through something where she needs her mother to protect her more than give her a choice, you’ll understand why I did what I did.”

I nodded.

A crying baby girl | Source: Midjourney

A crying baby girl | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sure you’re right, Mom,” I said, slipping my shirt off my arm to feed my little girl. “But I need some space for a little while. I need to adjust to being a single parent right now.”

“But you’re not alone, Elena!” my mother exclaimed. “Michael may have chosen to leave you, but I’m still here. I’m right there to love and support you. And your little girl.”

“I know that,” I said. “But this is the choice I’m making.”

“I’ll make you some food and then I’ll leave,” my mother said. “Please, let me do that. Let me plan meals for a week. Okay?”

A woman in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A woman in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“Fine,” I said, grateful for the assistance even though I didn’t want to look at her.

In the days that followed our hospital return, I thought about Michael’s behavior closer. Of course he was having an affair. There were endless late nights and shared dinners with “colleagues over business.” It was clear now, that during those intimate hours, Michael and his boss were becoming closer.

I tried to contact Michael many times, but it always went to voicemail. Until one day, when he answered by accident. I could tell he had no intention of answering the phone because his voice was thick with sleep.

“Michael?” I asked.

“Elena?” he gasped.

“Is it true?” I asked.

A sleepy man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A sleepy man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“Yes. All of it,” he said. “I’m not coming back. I was excited to start my life with you and our baby, but I’ve grown to love Gretchen and our lives together. I have to give this a chance. And the least I can do is transfer the house to your name only. Gretchen’s lawyers will do it soon.”

I couldn’t believe my ears.

Michael never contacted me again, and I didn’t reach out either. He disappeared from my life as quickly as he had entered it. But at least my daughter didn’t meet him and get to experience any of that.

She was safely away from Michael.

A smiling woman holding her baby | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman holding her baby | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you:

My MIL Thought I Was Cheating on Her Daughter and Tried to Teach Me a Harsh Lesson

When Mike plans a surprise weekend away for his and Steph’s anniversary, he hires an event planner to do most of the work. But when a nosy mother-in-law catches wind of Mike with another woman, things get out of control…

So, let me set a scene for you. It’s hilarious now, but it was anything but when it actually happened.

A man laughing | Source: Midjourney

A man laughing | Source: Midjourney

I’m Mike and I’ve been happily married to my wife, Steph, for ten years. We had a perfect little life with our eight-year-old son, Jack. Steph and I are the kind of couple that people envy.

As lame as it sounds, we have been completely in sync since we got married, finishing each other’s sentences, the whole deal.

Or at least, we were until my mother-in-law, Karen, got involved.

A happy couple | Source: Midjourney

A happy couple | Source: Midjourney

“I’m going to surprise Mom for our anniversary,” I told Jack when we were kicking a ball around outside one afternoon.

“Just don’t decide on having another kid,” Jack said, giggling as he spoke.

Well, I didn’t plan on that, but I did want to surprise Steph with a romantic weekend getaway to celebrate our anniversary.

A father and son playing with a ball | Source: Midjourney

A father and son playing with a ball | Source: Midjourney

I wanted everything to be perfect, so I hired an event planner to hold down the fort.

“Catherine,” I told her when I sat across from her in her office. “I need this weekend to be perfect. I know that it’s small scale compared to the events you plan, but I need it to be perfect for Steph. She deserves this.”

Catherine beamed, and I thought she actually looked quite beautiful. Not as beautiful as my wife, but lovely nonetheless.

A smiling woman sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney

She was great to work with too. She was professional, attentive, and yes, attractive.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My 4-Year-Old Son Was Distressed Every Time My MIL Babysat – When I Discovered the Reason, I Got Revenge

Working as a nurse, Zoe often relied on her mother-in-law, Denise, to babysit Leo, her son. But when the little boy becomes visibly shaken by his grandmother’s presence, Zoe has to question the old woman’s actions, only to discover that Denise has a hidden agenda.

I had always thought that my mother-in-law, Denise, was a little overbearing, but I chalked it up to her just being protective of my son, her only grandson, Leo.

She was one of those women who carried herself with a certain authority that made you straighten your back and rethink your words. This had become more pronounced when Jeremy, her husband, passed away a few years ago, allowing Denise to reclaim her role as head librarian of the local library.

“Why shouldn’t I?” she asked Andrew, my husband, one day. “I have time now, so there’s no need to just have my part-time role there. And I can have my book club meetings at the library, too.”

“Okay, Mom,” Andrew said. “You do whatever you want.”

She wasn’t mean, exactly, but Denise had a way of making you feel small without even trying. But still, she lived two roads away and was always willing to babysit Leo whenever I had a shift at the hospital, and considering Andrew’s unpredictable hours at the law firm, Denise usually had to step in often.

“It’s what grandmothers are for, right, Zoe?” she would say whenever I asked her to come over.

And despite how her moods could shift without a moment’s notice, she was reliable and didn’t complain about it once.

But lately, Leo had been acting strange whenever Denise came over. At first, it was small things. He would cling to my leg a little longer than usual when I tried to leave or hide behind the couch when he heard her car pull up in the driveway.

I thought that my son was just going through a phase, or maybe even a bit of separation anxiety. I had seen it all the time with the kids in my ward, especially when they woke up and their parents weren’t in sight.

But then, last week, right before I was about to leave for a night shift, he started crying.

“I don’t want Grandma to stay with me!” he blurted.

Big, fat tears rolled down his cheeks, and he clutched my scrub with a grip that seemed stronger than a grown man’s.

I knelt beside him, brushing a lock of his blonde hair from his forehead.

“But why, sweetheart?” I asked gently. “Grandma loves you. And she always brings you treats. Remember the brownies and ice cream from last week?”

My son’s eyes darted to the doorway as if expecting her to walk in at any moment.

“Because… Grandma acts strange,” he said, his eyes wide.

I was about to press him further because I needed to know what was going on. But moments later, Denise’s familiar, clipped footsteps echoed down the hallway. Leo bolted off to his room.

“What’s going on?” Denise asked as she set her purse down on the hallway table. “Where’s my grandbaby?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “He ran to his room to play with his toys. Andrew is away for the next two days. He’s meeting with a client and running through a case.”

Denise nodded.

I left for work, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled in my stomach. I spent the entire night running between patients and thinking about Leo’s words.

“Grandma acts strange.”

What did that even mean to a four-year-old?

When I got home the next morning, I found my son sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. His favorite cartoons were playing, but he wasn’t watching them. Instead, his eyes were red and puffy, like he had been crying all night.

“Leo?” I said slowly. “Did you sleep at all?”

He shook his head.

“No, Mommy,” he said. “I stayed up. I didn’t want to sleep.”

“Why not?” I asked, even though I could already feel my heart sinking.

I pulled one of the blankets under the coffee table and wrapped Leo in it, hoping if he felt safer, he would talk.

“Because Grandma scares me,” he said, his hands clutching his teddy bear tightly.

I felt a wave of panic wash over me.

“Scares you? What happened, honey? What did Grandma say or do?”

“She keeps trying to put something into my mouth,” he said. “She chases me with it, and it’s scary.”

“What is she trying to put into your mouth, sweetheart?” I asked, my voice tight as I strained to show my emotions.

Leo hesitated.

“Cotton buds,” he said. “You know, what you clean my ears with? She said that she wants to put my spit in the tube. I don’t like it. I don’t want it.”

My blood ran cold. Ever since Leo’s accident a few months ago, where he fell off his bike and landed himself with a broken arm, he’s been terrified of doctors, needles, and anything that reminded him of his time in the hospital.

The thought of Denise running around the house with a cotton swab and a test tube made my blood boil. Why was she trying to get my son to take a DNA test?

“Where’s Grandma?” I asked Leo.

“In the guest room,” he said.

I marched to the guest room and found Denise sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the screaming match that was about to come. Without hesitation, I shook her awake.

“Wake up, we need to talk,” I said.

“What’s going on?” she asked, blinking away her sleep.

“Leo just told me that you’ve been trying to swab his mouth for a test? Why are you traumatizing my son? Why do you want him to have a DNA test?” I demanded.

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked like she was going to deny it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sitting up. “I didn’t mean to frighten Leo. I’ve just been wondering about something…”

“What? What would possibly be so important that you’d do this behind my back?”

“His hair,” she said simply. “Nobody has had blonde hair like that.”

“You think that my son isn’t Andrew’s because of his hair color?” I asked.

“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s been gnawing at me. I just needed to know, but I didn’t want to accuse you…”

“I can’t believe that you would go to such lengths, Denise.”

“I didn’t know what to think. I’m sorry, Zoe,” she said.

“Please leave, Denise,” I said. “I need time to process this. And I need to focus on Leo.”

She nodded, looking defeated.

Over the next week, things were tense between Andrew and me. While she drove home on the day of the confrontation, she had phoned Andrew and told him everything, firmly securing some seeds of doubt.

“I think we should do the test,” he quietly said one day, not meeting my eyes.

I stared at him, hurt.

“You really think that’s necessary? You believe what your mother is implying?”

“It’s not that I believe it,” he said. “But if we do the test, we can put this all to rest. No more doubts, no more accusations. What if Leo was switched at birth?”

“I had a home birth!” I exclaimed. “You would have remembered if you were here and not in court.”

I sighed.

“Alright,” I said after a moment. “I’ll do the test for Leo, but on one condition.”

“What condition?” he asked.

“If I’m going to do this to prove our son is yours, then you’re going to do a test too. To prove that your father is really your father. Denise needs to know what this feels like.”

Andrew’s eyes widened, shock registering on his face from my request. “What? Why would you even suggest that?”

I could feel his brain overthinking it, but I also knew that he was trying to view the situation from my point of view.

I leaned forward, my voice firm, “Because your mother is the one who’s throwing accusations around. If she’s so obsessed with bloodlines, then maybe she should be sure of her own. So, if you want me to take a test, then you’re going to take one too.”

Andrew hesitated, clearly taken aback by my demand. But after a moment, he nodded. “Okay. If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it.”

A few days later, the test results came back. As expected, the test confirmed that Leo was indeed Andrew’s son.

But there was also another revelation that nobody saw coming.

It turned out that the test results for Andrew showed that his biological father wasn’t the man he had called Dad his entire life.

“What the hell, Zoe?” he said out loud.

“This is a conversation for you and your mother,” I said offhandedly.

As much as I wanted to know the truth and to know about Leo’s biological grandfather, I didn’t want to get caught up in Denise’s drama any further. No, thank you. I had a son to focus on. And there was just something about how Denise acted that I wasn’t going to forgive soon.

But eventually, my curiosity gave in and I asked Andrew about his conversation with his mother. It turned out that she had an affair in her youth, resulting in Andrew.

“She said that she had always suspected it, but she didn’t dare do a DNA test while my father was alive. Just imagine, I’ve gone my entire life thinking that my father was just that, my father. But he wasn’t, not biologically. I can’t forgive her, Zoe.”

My heart broke for him.

“So, what does this mean?” I asked.

“It means that we take our time and space away from my mother. And we focus on our son. She’s the one who betrayed our family. Not us,” he said.

I nodded, ready to move on and focus on our family.

Apparently, Denise’s guilt had eaten away at her for decades, leading her to project her insecurities onto me and our son.

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

My MIL Intentionally Sent Me Faded Flowers for My Birthday with a Nasty Note
Emily has always had issues with Denise, her mother-in-law. But when her birthday rolls around and her husband, Evan, has to go away on a business trip, Emily is left to entertain herself. Denise, on the other hand, takes matters into her own hands and gives her daughter-in-law a horrible birthday gift.

I know we all have problematic mother-in-law stories, but my goodness. I’ve been dealing with Denise for well over five years now. My husband, Evan, and I come from very different backgrounds, which were the first ingredients for a disaster.

Evan grew up in an affluent suburb, while I was raised by a single mom in a rough neighborhood where clothing was stolen straight off the line.

And to make it even worse for Denise? I’m a mixed-race woman, which Denise always looked down on.

“You definitely get your hair from your mother, then,” she would say to annoy me.

Despite Evan’s love and constant defense of me, Denise never missed a chance to remind him that he could’ve done better.

“I’ll bet you a spa day, Emily,” Evan told me one day as we were driving to his mother’s house for dinner. “She’s going to mention something about an ex-girlfriend or about me having done better.”

“You’re on,” I said.

Naturally, he was correct because not even fifteen minutes into the dinner, Denise was talking about an ex.

Read the full story here.

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