My Husband Left Me After 7 Years For My Sister_ Mocked Me When... - Reddit Family Tales

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
My husband left me after seven years for my sister
mocked me when I miscarried. At their wedding, I arrived
engaged and the boss of a sixty thousand dollar business.
Adrian and I had been trying to have a baby
for sixteen months. I intended to surprise him with my
pregnancy on his birthday. He had already scheduled the positive
test and compiled a list of one hundred twenty baby names.

(00:20):
When Clara called my younger sister, the fitness influencer with
the ideal physique in a bachelor's degree, whose bikini photos
Adrian double tapped on a daily basis while I continued
to dress up every night seeking for the same attention.
I want to talk about something, Adrian stated, while still
scrolling through Netflix. Clara and I discussed, she's more equipped
for what I want from life. Seven years of working

(00:43):
extra hours to pay for his community college, damaging my
body with IVF treatments and everything. He was putting it
into the trash because my sister had sweet talked in
his ear. Then have her, I said, through sobs. He
looked up from the television. Wait, you're just okay with it?
Do you even love me? I do love you, but

(01:04):
clearly my love isn't enough, So just take your things
and go. He left to meet Clara for a picture
shoot the same evening. The next morning, he returned to
pick up his belongings. Her hair tie was on his
wrist and her lipstick was still on his neck. He
smelled like her. We slept in different beds. He outright
lied to me. Adrian was unaware that I was already skeptical.

(01:26):
Clara opened up more to him than to her own friends.
I always invited him to work out. I hired him
as a replacement photographer for one of my sessions. My
mother contacted me exactly twenty hours later. Did you hear
Adrian and Clara are finely together? Aren't you just delighted
for them? Our seven year marriage was for nothing. Clara
makes a few flirtatious attempts, and every one calls them

(01:47):
the best thing that has happened to this family. I'm
sure you'll meet someone new, sweety. Clara is just difficult
to compete with. I was so close to striking them
and telling them about the baby. Instead, I hung up
the phone and focused on my pregnancy. I miscarried three
weeks later. The doctor diagnosed it as stress and poor fusion.
I was at rock bottom that Monday. On my way

(02:09):
home from work, I drove past a gym with my
life plans ruined. I decided screw it and parked my car.
The notice on the front door said clean up crew hiring,
no qualifications needed. The gym's proprietor was a retired bodybuilder.
You look like nothing A six pack and a glute
workout couldn't solve, she told me. I chuckled for the

(02:30):
first time in months. I got the job, and in
that weight room nothing else mattered. It's just me and
the barbell, not Adrian, not Clara. My parents were not
celebrating their engagement. I returned home one day to see
Clara helping Adrian clear up his belongings. You're sweaty, Clara said,
handing me a napkin. Stairs are difficult for some people.

(02:51):
They both smiled at her remark. I didn't say anything,
just went to change as they loaded things into their car.
The gym became my outlet. I used the money I
saved to buy protein supplements and training gear that made
me feel great. The gym owner observed I had reached
my target weight and decided to pay for my qualification.
Within nine months, I had obtained my personal trainer license.

(03:12):
I began instructing women, who paid me sixty five dollars
per hour. Elena, the wife of a real estate agent,
took a particular interest in me. You're an inspiration. We
need more people like you. She told me about an
old for sale building on the outskirts of town that
lacked a gym. She persuaded her spouse to cut me
a deal. I invested my life savings into it and

(03:32):
slept on the freezing floor eating canned food. But individuals
in Elena's circle were already giving thousands of dollars for
equity in my new gym. Adrian actually contacted me two
months after that saw on your ig you're a pt
Now being like Clara won't win me back. You know.
I didn't pay attention. I was preoccupied driving Elena to
an investor meeting to fund my gym's equipment one hundred

(03:55):
sixty five thousand dollars for the greatest machines available. When
my gym eventually opened, I had seven hundred twenty members
in eight weeks and made sixty thousand dollars in the
first three months alone. Elena was shocked when I told her,
you achieved more than any lousy influencer ever will your
sister is still getting half naked for money. Finally, the
invitations to Clara and Adrian's one year wedding anniversary arrived.

(04:16):
My parents begged me to come. Adrian had something to say.
I went with Lucas, Elena's nephew, a tall, intelligent Olympic
weightlifter who was truly inspired by my gym narrative. We
had been engaged for two months. Adrian's response when he
spotted us was simply amazing. Lucas's broad shoulders, my pregnant
belly bump, and his calm assertiveness all shouted expertise. Adrian

(04:39):
had every imaginable dream. Clara was also pregnant, but she
appeared defeated. She drew me aside, girl, please help, Adrian knows.
Adrian stood up and clinked his glass just as she
began to explain attention everyone. Clara's face turned white. The
bump you see on Clara's belly, Adrian said, is not

(05:00):
because of me. Everyone turned pale. I'm infertile, which means
that Clara is pregnant with someone else. He then spoke
to me, I love you, and leaving was my biggest mistake.
I'm never going to leave you again. He began heading
towards me. I took three steps back and placed my
palm on my belly, as pregnant women do instinctively. Lucas

(05:22):
stepped forward slightly, not aggressively, but certainly there. Adrian stopped
dead in his tracks when he spotted my bump for
the first time. His entire face altered. I went from
frantic to bewildered to something else that I couldn't understand.
Lucas's hand found mine and gave it a small squeeze,
reminding me of what we discussed in the car. We
wouldn't allow my pulse rate rise no matter what occurred tonight.

(05:45):
I began doing the breathing exercises from prenatal yoga class,
counting four in and six out, and precisely then I
felt the baby move, a gentle flutter that helped me
remain calm. Adrian extended his hand toward me as if
he wanted to touch my tummy or sin touched me
and began saying something about the need to chat alone,
about us and about our future. The entire audience was

(06:07):
watching this calamity unfold, and I saw at least three
individuals holding up their phones to record everything. I kept
my voice steady and informed him that any communication would
have to be by text or email, and only in
public places with other people present. His face collapsed as
if I'd smacked him, but I wasn't going to jeopardize
my baby's health for his breakdown. Lucas and I moved

(06:28):
toward the exit and began walking, maintaining a normal speed
despite the fact that every muscle in my body wanted
to run. Clara was standing at the door, mascara pouring
down her cheeks, attempting to catch my attention, but I
gazed straight ahead, intent on getting to the car. My
breathing remained calm despite the pandemonium behind us, with people whispering, gasping,

(06:48):
and most likely already putting everything online. We arrived at
Lucas's truck and he assisted me into the passenger seat,
ensuring that my seat belt was properly positioned beneath my bump,
before walking around to the driver's side. The driver if
home was quiet save for the radio playing an old
rock station, Lucas enjoyed, and neither of us discussed what
had just happened. When we came home, I grabbed my

(07:08):
laptop and began typing everything out while it was still fresh,
creating a timeline of who said what and when, and
documenting everything in case we needed it later. Lucas made
me camomeal tea without asking and brought it over in
my favorite mug, the one with the Jim's logo on it.
He kept things light, discussing tomorrow's gym schedule, which trainers
were covering, which courses, and other topics unrelated to the

(07:29):
horror we had just watched. I went to bed early,
but couldn't sleep because I was too preoccupied with what
had happened and what might come next. I phoned my
OB's office first thing in the morning and detailed what
transpired at the party, as well as how stressful it was.
The receptionist got me in to see the doctor that afternoon,
and she checked everything, said the baby looked fine, but
gave me a list of warning signals to look out for.

(07:51):
She also urged that I avoid stressful circumstances for the
next two weeks, which almost made me chuckle. Given that
my entire family was in a stressful city situation. I
drove to the gym after the appointment and could tell
right away that everyone knew what had transpired. Members were
crowded in small groups near the water fountain, and the
front desk personnel gazed up at me with concerned expressions.

(08:12):
I convened a quick staff meeting in the break room
and informed everyone that any queries should be handled properly,
and that our members came here to work out, not gossip.
My teammates nodded, and I could see they had my back,
which made me feel better than I had in days.
I was reviewing membership numbers in my office when my
phone rang and Mom's name appeared on the screen. She
began yelling about how I should listen to Adrian for

(08:34):
the good of the family, and how this was all
just a misunderstanding that could be cleared up if I tried.
I told her calmly that I had to leave and
hung up, not letting her guilt trip get to me further.
That evening, after the gym closed, I sat at my
desk and sent a simple, unambiguous text to Adrian. I
told him that I would only address legal issues related
to our divorce, nothing personal, and that any correspondence must

(08:56):
be in writing. I pushed send and went straight to
his profile to block him on all social media channels.
My phone buzzed with what was surely his response, but
I didn't look. Instead, I flipped it face down and
went to locate Lucas, who was cleaning up the weight room.
When I stepped in. He looked up and said nothing,
only opening his arms so I could lean on him
for a minute. Tomorrow would bring more drama, more calls,

(09:18):
and more people attempting to persuade me to do something
I did not want to do. But tonight I had
my jim My business that I'd started from scratch, and Lucas,
who understood that sometimes the best support was simply being
present without attempting to fix everything. The next morning, Lucas
called his friend who worked at a financial planning agency,
and set us up for an appointment. That afternoon. We

(09:38):
sat in the office going over every account I had,
making sure Adrian's name was not on anything from our marriage.
The adviser looked into old bank records and discovered two
joint accounts I'd forgotten about from years ago. One with
fifteen dollars and another with forty five dollars. We closed
them both immediately away and started fresh ones in my name.
Then went through my company accounts line by line. Luke

(10:00):
Ucas took notes as the adviser described every potential way
Adrian may try to claim a portion of my jim,
noting dates and amounts, and generating a paper trail proving
everything was funded. After our separation, my phone rang while
we were signing paperwork, and Clara's name appeared on Instagram
with a message request she wanted to talk to other
women about what had transpired at the party. I took

(10:20):
a screenshot of the message for my records, but did
not view it, instead putting my phone away and focusing
on the financial documents. That afternoon, I returned to the
gym and looked up our class schedule on my computer.
I scheduled three extra prenatal yoga sessions for myself each
week and informed my staff that if the pregnancy caused
me to get weary, I might need coverage. Within minutes,

(10:41):
my team was responding with offers to cover any classes
I required, assuring me that they had my back no
matter what the Next day, When checking our social media accounts,
I discovered we were being tagged in numerous posts. Clara
had shared a hazy story about betrayal and loss, along
with a black and white photo of herself looking forlorn.
Her fans were going crazy trying to figure out what occurred,

(11:02):
and strangely, my Jim started coming up in the comments.
Our follower count increased by two hundred in just a
few hours, which was unusual, but I wasn't complaining about
the free advertising. I contacted Greta, who arrived at the
gym that afternoon with her laptop. She sat in my
office making out a statement that stated nothing but sounded professional,
something about prioritizing health and wellness during this time and

(11:23):
respecting everyone's privacy. She shared it on all of our accounts,
and the suspicion calmed down quickly after that. Adrian texted
me that night stating he wanted to meet immediately to
fix our family. I copied and pasted the previous boundary
letter I sent him about only discussing legal topics in writing,
and wrote it again, this time without any further information.

(11:43):
A few days passed and I continued thinking about Clara's message.
I finally opened it and replied that I'd only meet
if she was getting a paternity test and we had
a professional mediator present. She responded with an instant yes,
which threw me off guard. I spent the next morning
looking for family therapists who can ducted mediation work and
discovered one with positive reviews who could meet us. The
following week, I emailed Clara and Adrian separate emails containing

(12:07):
the appointment details and guidelines. Everything had to be factual.
There are no blame games. Everyone gets equal time to speak.
At our weekly staff meeting, I mentioned the matter without
going into detail. We collaborated to develop scripts for anyone
who inquired about the drama, essentially informing them that we
were here to focus on fitness, not gossip. My team
also assisted me in setting up keyword filters on our

(12:29):
social media platforms to block any potentially offensive comments. We
were winding up the meeting when I returned home and
discovered a hefty envelope in my mailbox. The return address
was from a law firm that I had never heard of.
My hands shook slightly as I opened it and went
through the legal text. Adrian's lawyer suggested that he might
have a claim to my Jim as marital property because

(12:51):
we were still legally married. When I started working at
the first gym, my stomach fell, but I forced myself
to take a deep breath and focus on problem solving
rather than pay. I grabbed my phone and began searching
for forensic accountants in the region, skimming through reviews until
I found one that had experience with divorce asset issues.
The guy's office was downtown, and when I called, his

(13:11):
receptionist said he could see me that afternoon if I
brought all of my company records. I spent the next
two hours gathering bank statements, in corporation papers, the lease agreement,
and anything else that indicated when I started at the
gym and when I opened my own location. Mister Laurent,
the accountant, looked precisely as you'd expect, glasses and a
calculator on his desk. He went through every document, making

(13:34):
copies and noting dates, and asked me questions regarding the
money I had inherited from my grandmother and utilized as
a down payment. When he was finished, he leaned back
and told me Adrian's claim was essentially invalid th because
everything documentation would quickly put an end to any attempts.
That night, Lucas and I were making supper when he
mentioned the upcoming mediation sessions. He mixed the pasta while,

(13:55):
telling me that he had been thinking about it and
didn't want to attend the meeting since it would make
things worse with him Adrian. He'd wait outside in the
lobby or in the car, ready to aid if I
needed him, but he thought keeping his distance would keep
things professional. I appreciated him thinking things through instead of
playing the protective boyfriend role. We were tidying up when
my phone vibrated with a text from my mother five

(14:16):
words that made my stomach flip. Do not damage our family.
I stared at it for a whole minute, feeling old
guilt creeping in, but then I deleted it and banned
her phone number for now. Two days later, I awoke
to discover blood on my panties, not much, but enough
to drive me into complete panic mode. Lucas drove me
to the er while I tried not to panic, convinced

(14:37):
that something was wrong with the baby. When I mentioned
that I was pregnant and bleeding, the triage nurse quickly
admitted me. They performed an ultrasound, and the doctor said
everything looked okay, with the exception of some stress related spotting,
which was completely normal, but I needed more rest. She
wrote me a prescription for safe anxiety medications throughout pregnancy
and recommended that I see a therapist who specialized in

(14:59):
prenate stress. The next morning, I received an email from
the mediator I had contacted with available times for our
first session. She outlined all of the ground rules in writing,
everyone sticks to facts above sentiments, no shouting or blame
shifting each participant has transpired after we separated. However, organizing
equal time to speak without interruption, simply having structure and

(15:22):
guidelines made my chest feel less tense. I selected a
time window for the following week and submitted it to
both Adrian and Clara. Clara messaged me on Instagram later
that day saying she had already agreed to take the
paternity test, but wanted to know if I would accompany
her to the appointment for support. I responded that the
mediator would handle all of it and we should keep
our distance until then. She responded with a thumbs up emoji,

(15:44):
and that was it. The mediation appointment came sooner than
I anticipated. Lucas drove me, but stayed in the car
as we had agreed. The mediator's office was one of
those bland, beige settings designed to avoid triggering anyone. Adrian
was already there when I got in, dressed in a suit,
as if it were a job interview. He began babbling
the moment we sat down, reading from his phone, about

(16:06):
how sorry he was for everything, and how he had
been in treatment working on himself. But immediately, without taking
a breath, he began discussing the division of property and
assets as if we were business partners dissolving affirm I
cut him off and emphasized unequivocally that there would be
no reconciliation and that any discussion of assets must go
through our lawyers solely. The mediator documented everything, and at

(16:28):
the end she described what we had agreed upon, no
contact between sessions, Clara's paternity test was set for next week,
and any money conversations would be handled by legal counsel Solely.
She made us both sign a paper recognizing our commitments.
Having everything documented and formal made me feel safe for
the first time in weeks. My Jim was conducting a

(16:48):
charity fund raiser for the local women's shelter that weekend,
so I decided to stop over for an hour to
thank everyone. The moment I went in, my regular members
formed a protective circle around me, directing conversations away from
it anything personal, and keeping curious people at distance. One
woman literally moved between me and someone who began to
inquire about the matter, shifting the conversation to the new
equipment we had ordered. Their loyalty reminded me that I

(17:11):
had created something genuine here, unrelated to Adrian, Clara or
any of the drama. Monday morning, I was going over
the fundraiser figures when my phone called with a number
I did not recognize. The woman on the other end
said she was a local news reporter who wanted to
remark on my family's condition after someone leaked video from
the anniversary party. I offered her two dull phrases about
how everyone deserves privacy during difficult times and that mental

(17:34):
health should be prioritized, then disconnected up before she could
ask any further questions. Two days later, I was sitting
in the forensic accountant's office, staring at spreadsheets that made
my mind spin. She talked me through every possible conclusion
from Adrian receiving nothing to him claiming a portion of
my JIM. If his lawyer could prove that marital assets
were used, I would lose thirty percent of the business's value.

(17:56):
I formed a separate emergency account that afternoon and transferred
fifty thousand dollars into it in case things went wrong.
Lucas discovered me that evening staring at the ceiling in bed,
and climbed in next to me without saying anything at first.
Then he cleared his throat and explained that he had
been thinking about us and the wedding we were planned.
He was concerned that people would always compare him to
Adrian and that he would never be recognized as his

(18:18):
own person in my life. We chatted for two hours
about slowing things down until the legal situation was resolved.
The following morning, I drove myself to my first prenatal
class at the hospital. The instructor was a small woman
who had delivered five children herself, and she spent the
entire hour teaching us breathing methods. She kept telling us
that we needed to advocate for ourselves during delivery, rather

(18:39):
than just doing whatever the doctor said, I practiced the
breathing techniques as she discussed birth plans and pain treatment alternatives.
Every woman there appeared to be equally nervous as I was,
but toward the end we were all breathing in unison,
like some bizarre choir. Three days passed until the next
mediation session, when Clara finally burst into tears. She acknowledged

(19:00):
through tears that the father was Victor Hale, a photographer
with whom she had collaborated on several photographs over the
previous year. The mediator jotted down his entire name and
contact information while Clara glanced at her hands. Defeated, she
explained that Victor was aware of the baby, but had
not yet chosen what he wanted to do. The mediator
promised to contact him within a week to discuss paternity

(19:20):
testing and possible co parenting arrangements. Clara shrank back into
her chair as the gravity of her situation struck her again.
Later that week, the mediator contacted to let me know
that Victor had agreed to cooperate with everything. He had
already scheduled his paternity test and was willing to discuss
custody arrangements Once the results were returned, the mediator claimed
he was happy to have someone neutral handle the problem

(19:42):
rather than dealing directly with Clara. Adrian's therapist delivered a
big envelope to the mediator's office the following Monday. According
to the summary within, Adrian was dealing with his embarrassment
about being infertile, as well as his need to control
circumstances when he felt inadequate. Reading about his problems made
me feel sorry for him for about three seconds before
I remembered everything he'd put me through. I filed the

(20:03):
papers along with the rest of the paperwork, and returned
to my training routine. That Friday, we all gathered at
the mediator's office to sign a financial freeze agreement. The
contract prohibited anybody from shifting assets or making big financial
choices during the review period. Adrian's hand shook as he
scribbled his name, and Clara refused to even look at
him across the table. Having that legal protection in writing

(20:25):
allowed me to finally sleep through the night without fear
of Adrian depleting accounts or hiding money. The next week,
I planned a staff appreciation meal at an Italian restaurant
near the gym. My twelve employees arrived ready to eat
their weight in pasta, and we spent three hours talking
about business. I propose limited our membership at one thousand
to maintain quality rather than simply growing indefinitely. Every single

(20:48):
participant felt that keeping things manageable was preferable to creating
a large, impersonal chain gym. We planned equipment upgrades and
new classes, but only within our current space and member constraints.
Victor met with the mediator two days after our supper,
and I learned about it through the grapevine. He'd asked
confidentiality since he had photography contracts with major brands who

(21:08):
didn't want scandals associated with their commercials. Everyone agreed to
keep things quiet, and he signed documents consenting to the
paternity test and future discussions regarding the kid. The mediator
told me that he appeared to be a fine guy
who was simply caught up in an unexpectedly nasty scenario.
Adrian's lawyer emailed me a settlement proposal the next week,
recommending that I pay Adrian seventy five thousand dollars for

(21:30):
his emotional commitment in my accomplishment. My accountant laughed out
loud when she heard it and instantly produced a response
with evidence proving that every penny for the jim came
from my inheritance and post separation income. She added bank documents,
tax filings, and investment records to show Adrian had no
claim to anything. The facts were absolutely on my side

(21:50):
and his lawyer knew it, but he was clearly trying regardless.
Clara texted me two days later while I was examining
membership contracts at the gym. She thanked me for advocating
for mediation rather than allowing this to escalate into a
public court dispute that would jeopardize her influencer income. I
screenshotted the communication and sent it to my lawyer without responding.

(22:11):
That afternoon, I drove to my O B visit, where
we discussed every aspect of my birth plan. The doctor
talked me through each stage and ensured that Lucas's contact
information was in the system as my primary support person.
She handed me a folder containing copies of everything and
instructed me to keep one at home and one in
the car just in case. Lucas met me after the

(22:32):
appointment and we sat in his truck going over the
paperwork together. He programmed the hospital's direct line into his
phone and took notes on which entrance to use during
labor and delivery. Three days later, we all arrived at
the laboratory for Clara's paternity test. Adrian went first, followed
by Clara and Victor, who arrived in a rental car,
looking uncomfortable but agreeable. The technician took cheek swabs from everyone,

(22:55):
and the mediator logged all of the sample numbers and
informed us that the results would take two weeks. I
realized the web talk about our family drama had subsided
because no one was publishing anything dramatic anymore. Instead of
people looking for scandal details, my Jim's social media pages
returned to usual involvement. The forensic accountant called me on
Friday with the preliminary financial report. She guided me through

(23:17):
each sheet, explaining how my grandmother's inheritance supported the down
payment and how all of the renovation costs were covered
by my post separation income. The equipment was purchased using
company loans that I qualified for based on my personal
training income. Adrian's name was not on a single document,
and she claimed his lawyer would be foolish to continue
pursuing after viewing this information. The next mediation appointment was

(23:40):
planned for Monday morning, and I arrived with my stack
of financial records. Adrian sat across from me holding a
typed statement that his therapist had helped him draft. He
read it thoughtfully, accepting responsibility for his decisions and the
suffering he caused, without seeking reconciliation or forgiveness. I kept
my face neutral and simply nodded when he finished reading.
The mediator made copies for everyone, and we proceeded to

(24:02):
the next agenda item. Clara announced on Instagram that night
that she will be taking a social media hiatus to
focus on her health and family. Her comment box was
filled with supposition, but she did not respond to any
of it. For the first time since the anniversary party,
I felt a release of tension in my chest. Lucas
noticed that I was sleeping better and stated it as
we were making breakfast. The paternity results arrived exactly two

(24:26):
weeks after the test. The mediator called each of us
separately to discuss the results prior to our next group meeting.
Victor was ninety nine point nine percent confident that Clara's
baby was his, even though the question did not immediately
touch me. I felt a strange sense of comfort that
it had finally been answered. Clara and Victor began meeting
with the mediator individually to reach a co parenting arrangement.

(24:49):
I heard from the mediator that they were fairly mature
about parenting arrangements and financial support. Victor had fantastic insurance
through his photography profession and offered to include the baby
in his plan. They settled on shared legal custody, with
Clara having primary physical custody and Victor receiving week ends
once the infant was old enough. The mediator stated that

(25:09):
they communicated better than most of the couples she had
worked with. Adrian's lawyer finally got him to accept reality
after seeing all of my financial documents. They created a
settlement in which Adrian would get five thousand dollars as
a good will gesture and wive any claims to my
business or other assets. I agreed only to have everything
accomplished and legally protected. We went to the mediator's office

(25:30):
on a Thursday afternoon to sign the final papers. Adrian's
signature was unsteady, but he signed each page without complaint.
The mediator notarized everything and gave us all certified copies
that knot in my chest, which had been there for months,
had finally disappeared. I returned to my regular workout schedule
at the gym and concentrated on growing the baby. Lucas

(25:52):
accompanied me to all appointments, and we practiced breathing exercises
together in the evenings. Everything seemed calm and controlled until
I I was teaching a morning spin class five weeks
before my due date. The first contraction hit so forcefully
that I had to grab the handlebars to stay upright.
I tried to keep moving, but the second one arrived
only three minutes later. One of my regular members, a nurse,

(26:13):
hopped off her bike and helped me get to the workplace.
Lucas answered the phone on the first ring and stated
that he was on his way. He arrived in twelve
minutes and guided me to his truck while remaining absolutely calm.
He grabbed the hospital bag we had prepared weeks before
and drove steadily but quickly, while I breathed through contractions
that were getting stronger. The birth plan we had planned
worked wonderfully, and the nurses were waiting for us when

(26:36):
we arrived at the emergency door. They took me to
a room right away, and the contractions got harsher every
few minutes. The nurse examined me and found that I
was already at six centimeters, which explained why everything ached
so much. Lucas held my hand and counted during each
contraction as I attempted to recall all of the breathing
exercises we rehearsed. Hours passed, with machines beeping and nurses

(26:57):
entering and exiting to check the monitors around our eight
Things slowed down and the baby's heart rate decreased slightly,
prompting everyone to move faster. The doctor came in and
said they could need to perform a sea section if
things didn't improve shortly. I held Lucas's hand tighter and
concentrated on pushing when they ordered me to another four
hours of pushing and shifting, with the doctor employing some

(27:17):
sort of vacuum device to assist. Finally, at three forty seven,
a m our daughter came out screaming and was placed
directly on my chest. Lucas cried when she wrapped her
tiny fingers around his pinky, which I had never seen
happen before. The nurses cleaned her up and weighed her
as I was sewn up after tearing. Despite being born
so early, she weighed seven pounds two ounces and was

(27:38):
absolutely healthy. That night, while Lucas slept on the uncomfortable
chair next to my bed, I took out my phone
and quickly texted Clara. I only told her that I
hoped her delivery went easily and that she should take
care of herself. It felt uncomfortable, but also natural. She
read it and did not respond, which was okay. We
stayed in the hospital for two more nights, learning how

(27:58):
to change diaperswa and so on. When we eventually arrived home,
there were food containers packed on our porch from my
JIM personnel. They had organized the entire meal train without
me asking, casseroles, soups, and salads, all labeled with heating instructions.
I texted my assistant manager the scheduling system credentials and
instructed her to manage everything for the next two weeks.

(28:19):
She responded with a thumbs up and urged me not
to worry about anything. Three weeks later, we had to
attend the final mediation session, which I did not want
to do with a newborn but it was necessary. Lucas
remained in the waiting area with the baby while I entered.
Adrian looked different, perhaps calmer. He informed the mediator that
he would begin therapy twice a week and participate in

(28:40):
a technical training program to obtain HVAC certification. The divorce
papers were ready and he signed them without argument. When
it was done, I felt a strange lightness in my chest.
Two months later, Clara had her baby and sent me
a photo of a newborn boy wrapped in a blue blanket.
The letter simply read, thanks for suggesting mediation instead of

(29:00):
court battles. We weren't going to be friends, but we
weren't enemies. I started bringing the baby to the JIM
for the early morning members only sessions, since there was
a quiet space where I could nurse. The firm continued
to function smoothly, with my crew doing the majority of
the daily tasks while I checked in remotely. When my
parents contacted to ask for a visit, I made it
plain what the rules were, spend no more than two

(29:22):
hours chatting about Adrian or Clara, instead focus on meeting
their granddaughter. They arrived on time and obeyed all rules,
which astonished me. Mom cradled the infant and discussed her
knitting projects as Dad snapped approximately fifty photos. They left
without disputing when their two hour time limit expired. That weekend,
Lucas and I sat on the floor, surrounded by baby

(29:43):
clothes we had received as gifts. He stated that we
should consider getting married next year or whenever it feels right.
There's no rush or pressure, just two people working together
to create something real. We both understood we had time
to figure things out.