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Bringing children into our lives seemed to be something my husband wanted more than anything.
I was reluctant and scared at first, but I observed him really taking a great interest in his brothers children and seemed quite helpful. I watched his doting looks as he admired his first baby niece.
What a loving father he will be, quite attentive, I thought.

We talked about how we would bring up children and we both seemed to come to agreements that our goals were similar.

How did that reality go so wrong?

I tried to be perfect with my first baby, do everything, let hubby sleep when he needed to…

Somewhere down the track of being completely tired and having another child in my belly and being so overwhelmed with what was never supposed to be my life, he left.

Having me not being so bubbly and being able to do everything for him became a hassle.

The first stages of his trying to take his first born child for a play was completely too much for him. As I slept being pregnant with my second, I awoke to find him looking distraught sitting on the end of the bed.
“I just can’t do it! I can’t look after little one. Every time I look at her I feel horrible about myself”

I held him while he cried, but I was the one in need of support. He left me with them again.

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