It’s 7 o’clock in the evening. You’re out buying ingredients to make dinner. Your estimated due date (EDD) is a week away, so you assume it’s Braxton Hicks. Two hours later, you discover it wasn’t false contractions. You call your baby’s father, Martin. You refer to him by that title because that’s the only factual thing. The nine months during the pregnancy have made you question your places in each other’s lives.

“Martin, I’m in labour,” you tell him in panic. This is your first child.

“Shit! Get an Uber and go to the hospital. I’ll be there when I’m done,” says Martin.

You want to ask him what could be more important, but he hangs up, and you’re in pain. Luckily, your best friend lives close by, so you call her, and she accompanies you to the hospital. They admit you and inform you that you’re pretty far from full dilation.

Martin doesn’t call or text until the following day. By then, so much has happened. After hours of labour pains and you thinking you must be close to the end, they discover some coloured discharge. The doctors inform you that your baby has pooped, and it can be dangerous. You’re not dilating first enough, so they induce you.

You were in pain before, but your perception of pain changes once the induction medication kicks in. Somewhere in your preparation, you’d read that walking helps with labour, but you’ve already tried that and gotten tired. Screaming feels like something that could ease the pain, like an outlet, but it doesn’t come naturally to you.

Of course, you momentarily forget about the pain when the doctors, your friend, your mother, and Martin’s mother ask you about him. During the morning shift visit, your friend comes, but your baby’s father still doesn’t show up.

Your bundle of joy finally arrives around lunchtime. It feels like your world just changed-and it does. The child is healthy, and there are no complications. After the doctors are done with you, they take you back to the ward where you find your family, close friends and Martin’s mother waiting with broad smiles.

Martin finally shows up in the evening. He’s grinning molar to molar, looking at his child. His eyes are bloodshot; you can see the hangover written all over him. As you brought your child into the world, he was out there getting hammered.

They discharge you the following day. The broken pieces of your relationship that you’ve been holding together with band aids get ripped open.

“You can’t take my child to your mother’s house,” Martin insists.

“Now you’re interested in your child?” You ask.

“There was nothing for me to do while you were in labour,” he says.

“Drinking as I struggled to get to the hospital and then staying silent as I endured the pain and the worry of something going wrong was more important?”

You’ve already learned that his appearance at the hospital and the proposal to have his mother look after you were due to pressure from his mother. He was indifferent during your pregnancy, but acted supportive every once in a while when you pushed him. You thought he would at least show up for you during childbirth.

“I wasn’t ready to be a dad. I’m processing all of this,” Martin keeps saying.

“You were not ready either, but you’re adjusting,” your friend reminds you when you try to make excuses for Martin.

His mother has tried to be supportive. She literally dragged him to meet your family as custom and honour dictate. For a moment, you think that maybe going to her place might be a good idea, but you remind yourself that her devotion doesn’t represent her son’s devotion to the child.

After a back and forth with Martin, you go to your mother’s house. Adjusting to motherhood is more difficult than you anticipated. Martin is of no help. He still thinks being at a club while you were in labour is defensible. He withdrew even the little financial support he was giving his child.

Fortunately, you have a stable job, but you can’t help but feel like a failure for having a child with Martin. You become determined to be a mother who makes better choices. Leaving the entanglement with Martin is your first decision, and you hope he gets his act together before your child is old enough to understand things.

Check out more stories from The Singlehood Series

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My Mother-In-Law Brought Another Woman For My Husband Because I Refused To Give Him Another Child

He Was A Deadbeat Father To His Child But Wanted To Take Care Of Mine

He Claimed He Wasn’t Ready To Be A Father Twice With Her And Then She Discovered He Had A Child 

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