My spouse, Owen, and I became parents not too long ago. Our families were there for us at every turn, and we were overjoyed to bring our baby into the world. The birth was more painful than I had anticipated, even though the pregnancy had gone well. I was shocked by Owen’s response to my labor agony when he mentioned my screaming.
I felt a range of feelings as I sat across from Owen in our poorly lit living room with our newborn baby, Liam, napping close by. Only a week had passed since Owen and I were admitted to the hospital, me in labor. But I was unable to forget the memory. I gathered my courage and thoughts and brought up the topic of our delivery experience.
I said, “Owen, we need to talk about what happened at the hospital,” maintaining a calm but kind tone. His gaze locked with mine, a glimmer of doubt. He gestured for me to go on by nodding. “Recall the time you urged me to cease yelling while I was in labor? I was embarrassing you, you claimed.
He shifted uneasily, admitting what he had done. With a hint of sorrow mixed in with his defensive response, “Yes, I remember,” he said.
I took a big breath and spoke again, my voice getting louder. I said, “I want you to know how your words made me feel.” “Owen, I was in so much pain. While I was giving birth to our child, all you could think about was how uncomfortable you were.”
It wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for from him. Owen responded violently, his face hardening instead of showing empathy or apologizing. He shot back, saying, “A woman should obey her husband and you could have been quieter during labor.” His tone surprised me because my spouse is usually quite caring.
I was furious and in shock after hearing his statements. How could he be so callous—the man I loved and my child’s father? I could feel nervousness and humiliation beneath the wrath. When we made the commitment to help one another overcome obstacles in life, this wasn’t the kind of relationship I had in mind.
“Owen, do you really think that?” I asked, my voice quivering with emotion. that in order to spare you discomfort, my suffering and work should be silenced?
He didn’t say anything else, and for the first time I couldn’t figure out what was on his mind.
Shocked by his answer, I walked out of the room and hung out with Liam in the main bedroom, keeping the door locked to keep Owen out. It wasn’t until I heard him go to meet friends that I came out.
I finally understood Owen’s character that day. I wasn’t happy to see a side of him that I hadn’t seen before. I needed to show him that I was more than simply his subordinate, even if I still loved him. During my alone time, I planned how my family and I could help transform our dynamic.
Owen and I had dinner with my family a week later. Owen appeared anxious, but he understood the evening had greater meaning. My family welcomed us with open arms, their love filling the room, unaware of our stress.
I invited my sisters to talk about their delivery experiences as we were eating. Owen was to hear tales of devoted spouses and contrast them with our own.
Owen became less obstinate and more thoughtful as he listened carefully. I could see their remarks having an effect on him and his realization.
Owen looked sorrowful and kept silent as everyone else spoke stories. It appeared as though he blinked out a tear at one point. I started to wonder if it was the correct decision to expose him in this way.
I looked at Owen when I turned to talk. He had regret in his eyes, and I knew I didn’t want to embarrass him any more.
I emphasized Owen’s support during my pregnancy rather than the agony. The stories were a hit with my family, and Owen once again gave me a loving look.
Following the meal, Owen expressed true regret and pledged to improve as a spouse. His remarks marked a positive development in our relationship.
I had time to think throughout the peaceful drive home. I had offered us an opportunity to move on by deciding to be compassionate rather than confrontational. Though it wouldn’t completely remove the past, our future would be based on development and comprehension.