He’s here.
Our little boy was born almost two months ago, and he is the perfect addition to our family.
I wish I could say that the pregnancy, birth, and early postpartum period were without challenges or triggers, but they weren’t.
The end of pregnancy became really hard for me, both physically and mentally. My first pregnancy was a dream, and although this pregnancy was also straightforward medically, it was much more difficult physically. I struggled with issues in my hips and pelvis, along with the worst coccyx pain. I had an incredible alternative medicine team who provided relief, but I still experienced flare-ups.
Mentally, I was declining. In many ways, I was mentally stronger than I had ever been, but the closer I got to giving birth, the more I felt myself slipping, and that scared me. I was aiming for a VBAC (vaginal birth after caesarean), and I knew that in order to achieve it, I needed to be mentally strong. Labour and birth are such a mental game. Pain has never really been the issue for me—I have always coped well with labour pain—but I knew my mind needed to be strong, and I was struggling.
I was becoming triggered by the smallest things: my husband going to the gym, not answering his phone, or not wanting to take time off work to come to appointments. I knew we were stronger than ever. I knew he wasn’t having an affair. But my brain couldn’t stop revisiting the past.
Towards the end of my previous pregnancy was when he was talking to another woman and finding comfort in someone else. As my due date approached, I found myself constantly calling him, needing reassurance, and wanting to be with him. I was no longer content spending time by myself or even just with my son.
Eventually, my husband finished work two weeks before the birth because I simply wasn’t coping. Having him with me and soaking up those final weeks as a family of three brought me so much comfort. He never complained. He simply took care of me and supported me through it.
To the average family, this probably sounds strange, but one of the biggest sources of reassurance for me over the past year has been my husband wanting to spend time together as a family. I know that sounds like such a normal thing, but during our son’s first year of life, it wasn’t something we did often. My husband was distant, and even when we spent time together, it rarely felt like quality time.
People often say that in order to rebuild your relationship, you need to focus on the two of you—going on dates, being intimate, and spending time alone together. While that may be true to an extent, healing for us wasn’t just about the two of us. It was about our family.
Investing time and effort into family life healed me, and in turn, it healed us. It brought us closer together and made us a stronger unit.
Once labour started, I felt myself calm down. It showed throughout my labour and birth experience. I truly believe everything I had endured over the previous year helped me get through it.
I kept repeating to myself, “If I can survive the last year, I can survive anything.”
With every contraction, I recited, “I can do hard things,” and for the first time in a long time, I truly believed it.
During my first labour and birth, my husband was pretty useless—sorry, hubby, but it’s true. He didn’t really know how to help, and I didn’t know how to tell him what I needed. I wanted to do everything myself.
This time was completely different.
I asked my mum to be there as well, partly because I knew I might need the extra support and partly because I wanted her to witness the birth of her grandchild. My husband was by my side the entire time. I had a mostly unmedicated labour, with more than twelve hours of active labour, and he supported me through every minute of it, squeezing my hips through every contraction to help manage the pain.
I did think about her during labour, which I really didn’t want to do, but strangely, it helped. Whenever she entered my mind, it made me more determined. More determined to push through the pain. More determined to prove to myself that I could do hard things.
There is something about overcoming difficult situations that makes me feel as though I’ve reclaimed a part of myself. Not because life is a competition, and not because “winning” is what matters, but because choosing to keep going when things hurt feels like a victory of its own.
The truth is, no one wins when an affair is involved. There are no trophies, no perfect endings, and no way to undo the hurt that was caused. But what I have learned is that healing is possible. Trust can be rebuilt. Families can be restored. Not because the past changes, but because the people involved choose, day after day, to keep showing up. As I hold our newest little boy and watch our family of four settle into this new chapter, I don’t feel like I’ve won. I feel grateful. Grateful that I stayed. Grateful that he stayed. Grateful that we did the work. And grateful that after so much hurt, we’ve found hope again.
Sarah xx
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