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 was in the hospital, ready to bring her and Michael’s first child into the world, she found herself alone in the room with her mother. Michael was nowhere to be seen. After being discharged, she walked into her home, expecting Michael to be there with some kind of explanation. Instead, she was met with a note he had left behind, blaming her mother for his sudden departure. What had happened to Michael, and why had he vanished?

I used to believe the happiest moment of my life was marrying Michael. But when I learned I was pregnant, I thought that the day I’d hold our baby in my arms would surpass even that joy.

I couldn’t have guessed that day would mark the start of a nightmare. Michael had vowed to be by my side, holding my hand as we welcomed our first child.

We’d carefully planned every detail together—what music would play in the delivery room, and how he’d be the one to place the tiny hat on our baby’s head.

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

The nurses, with their empathetic expressions, reassured me that he was likely delayed. However, as the minutes dragged on, unease crept over me.

I’d called him countless times, leaving messages full of worry, but there was no reply. As my contractions grew more intense, so did my anxiety. Was I really about to go through this alone? What could have possibly stopped him from being here?

“Michael, please,” I whispered through the pain.

When my daughter was born, the joy of seeing her was overshadowed by the emptiness beside me. Michael’s absence gnawed at my heart. Where was he? Why didn’t he come?

My mother stayed with me, her hand replacing his, though I could sense her own concern. If she knew more than she let on, she kept it to herself.

“Take it easy, Elena,” she said gently. “Focus on your little one now. And on your recovery.”

“I’m trying,” I replied, though worry still clouded my mind.

After two days in the hospital, I was finally allowed to go home. My mother helped carry Emily to the car. The drive was quiet, the tension thick. My mother tapped her fingers nervously against the steering wheel.

I tried to reassure myself that there was a rational reason for Michael’s absence. Maybe it was work, or perhaps he’d had an accident and was at another hospital.

With each passing mile, my imagination spun more wild possibilities.

Nothing, however, could have prepared me for what awaited us at home.

The house was unnaturally quiet. I opened the door, half-hoping Michael would be there with an explanation that would somehow make everything okay.

“Michael?” I called, my voice echoing through the silence. “Are you here?”

No reply.

“Keep your voice down, Elena,” my mother said. “Emily’s asleep.”

Ignoring her, I rushed upstairs to the nursery. Maybe he was there, waiting for us. We had spent weeks putting the room together, perfecting every detail.

But when I opened the door, my breath hitched.

The room was nearly empty. The crib remained, but all the decorations, the toys, the clothes we had lovingly chosen together—everything was gone. All that remained was a single piece of paper lying in the crib.

The note read: Elena, I love you and our baby, but I have to leave. Ask your mother what she did. I’ve taken a few of Emily’s things to remember you both.

I stared at the words, trying to comprehend them. What did he mean? Why did he leave? And what role did my mother play in this?

“Mom!” I yelled, stumbling down the stairs as fast as I could, clutching the note in my hand. I found her in the living room, cradling Emily, who was still sleeping.

“What’s this?” I demanded, waving the note at her. “What did you do? Where is Michael?”

Her face fell. For a moment, I thought I saw guilt flicker in her eyes.

“I didn’t want it to come out this way,” she said quietly.

“What? What didn’t you want me to find out? Tell me!” I shouted, my exhaustion battling my fury.

Taking a deep breath, she said, “I found out something about Michael. Something you deserved to know. And I told him.”

“Knew what? Stop speaking in riddles!” I cried.

“Elena, he’s been unfaithful,” she said softly. “With someone from his workplace. I confronted him, and he admitted it.”

The words hit me like a blow. I sank onto the couch, disbelief washing over me.

“No, that’s not true,” I whispered. “Michael wouldn’t do that. He loves me, loves Emily. He was so excited about us, about being a family.”

“I wish it weren’t true,” she replied. “But I overheard him on the phone, making plans to meet someone at a motel. I confronted him, and he confessed. He’s been seeing his boss—a wealthy woman who offered him things we couldn’t. He left you, Elena.”

I felt like the air had been knocked out of me. My chest tightened as tears streamed down my face.

“You should have told me,” I said. “You should have let me confront him myself.”

“I thought I was protecting you,” she said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I gave him a choice: tell you everything or leave for good. This was his decision, Elena.”

My mind reeled. My mother had acted in what she thought was my best interest, but she had taken away my chance to decide for myself.

In the days that followed, I tried contacting Michael, but he ignored every call. When he finally answered, his words confirmed everything.

He was gone—for good.