As many married couples can attest, the journey towards parenthood is one that is often envisaged as being shared equally between both partners. I held a strong conviction that my pregnancy would be a time of shared joy and responsibility with my husband. I imagined us attending each prenatal appointment together, his hand in mine, as we listened to the heartbeat of our unborn child, eagerly discussing our future with excitement and tenderness. Sadly, the reality I faced was starkly different. It became increasingly apparent that my husband was more inclined to prioritize his social life and personal interests, repeatedly sidelining our important prenatal milestones. This recurring pattern of neglect ultimately pushed me to a point where I felt compelled to teach him an unforgettable lesson.
From the moment we discovered I was pregnant, it felt as if we had stepped into a dream. For years, my husband and I had looked forward to starting a family, and now, it seemed our dreams were finally coming to fruition. The news came to us during a short romantic getaway, which felt like the universe’s way of telling us that our lives were about to change for the better. We knew that the journey ahead would be fraught with challenges, but we were ready—or so I thought—to face them together.
In the early weeks, my excitement was palpable. I approached every aspect of pregnancy with a positive spirit, even the less pleasant moments like morning sickness, because I believed that having my husband’s support would make the challenges manageable. However, his lack of involvement soon became evident. It seemed he viewed the pregnancy as my sole responsibility, an ordeal I must face alone while he maintained the freedom of our pre-parenthood days.
During the first trimester, there were nights filled with discomfort and restlessness, where the cold bathroom floor became my refuge. Meanwhile, my husband slept soundly, undisturbed and seemingly oblivious to my struggles. Even a simple gesture of fetching a glass of water seemed too much to ask of him. I found myself growing resentful, feeling abandoned in what was supposed to be our shared journey. I couldn’t help but think, “If I am already doing the job of being pregnant, the least he could do was rub my feet, or help when I am dealing with the worst nausea. I mean the child is not only his when it’s born.”
Our excitement soon soured into tension and frequent arguments. I had hoped that we would at least be able to share the experience of prenatal appointments, but my husband’s attendance was sporadic. He often opted out, preferring to engage in leisure activities with his friends. His excuses were flimsy, and whenever I expressed my disappointment, he dismissed my concerns with a shrug, saying, “I’m not the one carrying the baby, why do I have to go see the doctor with you?”
The turning point came when we were scheduled to attend an appointment to learn the gender of our baby. This was a moment I had envisioned as a milestone for us as a couple, an experience that would further bond us to our child. However, at the last minute, he decided to skip the appointment to enjoy a casual meal of fish ‘n’ chips with a friend. I was devastated and furious, but I managed to keep my composure. Instead of him, my mother accompanied me, and together, we discovered that we were expecting a daughter.
Resolved to make my husband realize the significance of his absence, I planned a poignant reminder for our gender reveal party. I commissioned a cake that was outwardly ordinary, decorated with question marks. However, hidden inside was a unique twist meant to symbolize his recent choices.
At the party, surrounded by friends and family, I asked my husband to do the honors of cutting the cake. As he sliced through the cake, out poured not the traditional blue or pink hues but miniature, edible fish ‘n’ chips. The symbolism was not lost on anyone—this was the meal he had deemed more important than attending the gender reveal of his own child. The room erupted in laughter, and while the atmosphere was light, the message hit home. It was a playful yet serious reminder of what he had missed. Taking advantage of the lighthearted mood, I expressed how crucial it is for us to support each other, especially during such a transformative phase of our lives.
Following the laughter and initial surprise, I presented the real reveal—a second cake, this one intricately decorated in soft pastel colors with delicate baby footprints. Together, we cut into it, revealing a beautiful soft pink interior. The room cheered, “It’s a girl!” The joy and excitement were overwhelming, and it was clear that the message had been received.
The realization of what he had been neglecting seemed to dawn on my husband. His apology that night was heartfelt, and from that day forward, he became a more present and involved partner. He attended every subsequent appointment without fail, and his newfound commitment to our prenatal journey was unmistakable.
As we continued to prepare for the arrival of our daughter, the atmosphere in our home shifted from one of tension to one of eager anticipation. We started planning the nursery, selecting each piece of furniture with care. My husband took particular interest in building some of the furniture himself, showcasing a level of engagement that was both surprising and heartening.
The incident with the fish ‘n’ chips cake became a legendary story within our family, a humorous but poignant reminder of the importance of being present and supportive. It served not only as a lesson for my husband but also as a reminder to both of us about the significance of shared experiences and mutual support in our marriage.
Reflecting on the journey, it became clear that the challenges we faced were not merely obstacles but opportunities for growth. They strengthened our relationship, deepening our understanding and appreciation for one another. As we awaited the arrival of our daughter, we were not just preparing to be parents but also learning to be better partners to each other. This experience, though fraught with initial misunderstandings and adjustments, ultimately enriched our bond and reinforced the foundation upon which our growing family would stand.
I Just Want to Be Saved!”: The Shocking Last Words of a 6-Year-Old After a Badminton Accident
A family from New Jersey is heartbroken after losing their 6-year-old daughter, Lucy Morgan, in a tragic accident while on vacation.
The accident happened when Lucy was watching her family play badminton. During the game, a racquet broke during a swing, and a piece of metal flew off and hit Lucy in the head, causing a serious brain injury.
Lucy’s father, Pastor Jesse Morgan, shared the sad details on his blog, New Creation Living. He described how June 1 started like any other day on their family vacation in Limerick, Maine. But then everything changed, and he now believes his little girl is with Jesus.
The family quickly understood how serious Lucy’s injury was. Jesse explained on his blog that after the metal hit Lucy, she became unresponsive but was still breathing. His wife, Bethany Morgan, went with Lucy in the ambulance to a nearby hospital. Later, Lucy was airlifted to Maine Medical Center in Portland because they knew her life was in serious danger.
“When Lucy arrived at the hospital, she went straight to the operating room. Doctors removed part of her skull to relieve pressure from her injury. She went into cardiac arrest but they brought her back and finished the surgery,” Jesse wrote on his blog. “In the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU), we were told there was a very slim chance she would recover.”
Jesse Morgan shared that just a month before the accident, Lucy had expressed a desire to be with God. She told her parents she wanted to be saved and live with God. After a conversation with her mother, Lucy went to her room to pray.
“She prayed to God to forgive her and told Him that she believed in Jesus’ death and resurrection. What a gift,” he wrote.
Sadly, despite the medical efforts, Lucy did not recover from her injury. Jesse explained that the piece of metal had caused severe damage to her brain. Doctors informed the family that she likely would not survive.
“No blog post today. Lucy Lynn Morgan passed away this morning around 4 a.m. She now sees Jesus face to face. Thank you for all your love poured out to us,” Jesse posted on June 5, 2024, along with a picture from earlier goodbyes.
The day before her death, he wrote, “The lack of brain function over the past 48 hours shows that we are utterly devastated. If there is any good news, it’s that she hasn’t felt any pain during this time.”
“We will keep waiting on the Lord, getting second opinions, and looking for every possible option while crying out to God for a miracle,” he added. “However, as of now, our beloved daughter has been showing all the signs of brain death. There is a very good chance she will pass away and meet Jesus within 24 hours.”
In the wake of this tragedy, the family has received much love and support. Many people shared kind words about Lucy and her family on social media. Dan Cruver, a former professor of Jesse Morgan, spoke highly of him in a Facebook post.
“Jesse Morgan was a student of mine when I taught Bible and theology at Clarks Summit University 18 years ago. I remember many students, but some stand out because they frequently engaged with me after class and asked thoughtful questions. Jesse was one of those students,” he wrote.
To support the family, loved ones created a GoFundMe account, which has exceeded its original goal of $100,000 and is nearing a new goal of $130,000, with over $125,000 in donations so far.
Organizer Jill Anthony wrote, “This page is meant to provide the family with generous financial support – to help pay for meals while they are away from home, lodging for family, medical costs… whatever they need.”
Anthony also provided an update: “On June 5, Lucy went to be with the Lord. Please keep praying for the Morgans as they navigate the coming days, weeks, months, and years without their sweet Lucy.”
Leave a Reply