My Husband Disappeared After the Birth, Leaving Behind a Creepy Note in the Crib

I always thought the happiest day of my life would be when I married Michael. But when we found out I was pregnant, I thought that giving birth to our baby would be even better. Little did I know that day would turn into a nightmare.

Michael had promised me he’d be there for the birth, holding my hand and supporting me. We had planned everything together: the music in the delivery room, the tiny hat for our baby’s head. But when the time came, Michael wasn’t there.

I waited and waited, hoping he would show up. The nurses kept telling me he was probably just running late. But as the hours passed, I started to feel more and more scared. I called him over and over, but he never answered.

When my daughter was born, I was happy but also sad. The place where Michael should have been was empty. My mom was there with me, but I could tell something was wrong. She didn’t tell me anything, but I could see the worry in her eyes.

After two days in the hospital, I was discharged and headed home with my mom. I kept telling myself Michael must have had a good reason for not showing up, maybe something at work or an accident. But nothing could have prepared me for what I found when I got home.

The house was completely quiet. I called for Michael, but there was no answer. I quickly went upstairs to check on the nursery, hoping to find him there. But when I opened the door, I was shocked.

The room was almost empty. All of the things we had prepared for our baby were gone. The crib was there, but the stuffed animals, the blankets, and the clothes we had chosen together were all missing. Only one thing remained: a note in the crib.

The note read: *I love you and our baby, Elena. But I have to leave forever. Ask your mom why she did this. I’ve taken some of Emily’s things to remember you both.*

I was in shock. What did this mean? Why did Michael leave? And why was my mom involved?

I ran downstairs to confront her. I held out the note and demanded answers. She looked at me, and for a moment, I saw something in her eyes that I couldn’t understand — guilt? Regret?

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” she said quietly.

I pushed her for answers. “What are you talking about?” I shouted.

Then, she told me something I never expected. “Michael’s been having an affair,” she said. “With someone at his office. He’s been seeing his boss, and she offered him things he couldn’t refuse.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I didn’t want to believe it. Michael wouldn’t do that. He had been so excited about our baby and our life together. But my mom went on to explain that she had overheard a conversation where Michael admitted to the affair.

I couldn’t believe it. How could Michael do this? And why didn’t my mom tell me earlier? I could have talked to him about it. But instead, she told him to leave me and our baby.

“I had to make him leave,” my mom said. “I couldn’t let you suffer more.”

I was devastated. My husband had betrayed me, and my mom had forced him to leave without even giving me a chance to fix things.

But then I thought about it more. Maybe this wasn’t just about Michael. Maybe my mom had never fully accepted him. She tolerated him because of me, but deep down, she never really liked him. What if she wanted him gone all along?

I voiced these thoughts out loud, and my mom reacted strongly. “You think I’d hurt you like this?” she asked, upset. “He hurt you first. I had to protect you.”

I couldn’t believe what was happening. Michael had chosen to leave me, and my mom had made that decision for me. I had no say in it.

“I wish you’d given me the choice,” I said, feeling my heart breaking all over again.

My mom apologized, but it didn’t change anything. I was left alone with my baby and a broken heart. Michael was gone, probably with his mistress, and my mom had betrayed my trust.

As the days passed, I thought about Michael’s behavior. All those late nights and “business dinners” made sense now. He was seeing his boss, and I hadn’t known. I tried calling him many times, but he never answered, until one day, he did.

He admitted everything. He wasn’t coming back. He had chosen his life with his mistress, and he was going to give it a real chance.

“I’ll transfer the house to your name,” he said. “Gretchen’s lawyers will handle it.”

After that call, Michael never contacted me again. I never tried reaching out either. He was gone from my life, but at least my daughter was safe, away from all of this.