During my pregnancy, everything changed.
Not because of the hormones, or the physical toll it took on my body—but because the man I married transformed into someone I no longer recognized. Arnie, once devoted and affectionate, began mocking my appearance, dismissing my pain, and making me feel like I was nothing. And then, just like that, he left me—convinced he had the upper hand.
What he didn’t know was that I had already started crafting a plan. And when the time came, he never saw it coming.
Pregnancy is supposed to be one of the most beautiful journeys in a woman’s life. But only when shared with a partner who offers love, support, and compassion.
Mine? Mine was a daily battle.
From relentless morning sickness to crippling exhaustion, I endured it all. And on top of that, I had to survive Arnie’s growing cruelty.
Before the pregnancy, things were good. He loved me—at least, I believed he did. He made me feel adored, went out of his way to show affection, and held me like I was the most precious thing in the world.
When we found out we were expecting, he was overjoyed—grinning like a child holding the positive test in his hands. But it didn’t last.
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