Poor you.
I hope you don’t mind me sharing my own story - in case it’s in any way helpful to you?
Before I was pregnant, my husband had said things like "I didn't want children until I met you" or "I want children because you want children." I thought he genuinely did want to have children with me. And in fact, I think he'd convinced himself too. He was actually quite animated when we'd chat about baby names etc, while we were trying for a baby. But when I became pregnant, it all changed. At first he totally withdrew from me. Then he told me that he'd realised that he really didn't want children. He liked our life as it was and didn't want it to change. He didn't want me to change either. He was worried that having a baby would drive us apart. He also didn't think he'd be able to bond with the baby. People kept telling him he'd feel differently once the baby was born, and he was worried that he wouldn't.
My pregnancy was tough. Healthwise I had a relatively easy ride, but emotionally I was in pieces. I had no-one to share my excitement with. Sure, my family and friends were excited/happy for me, but that's not the same as being able to share your excitement with the baby's father and the person that you're supposed to be closest to. It drove us apart. He said some things that I found really hurtful/unpleasant. Both of us were miserable with the situation and neither of us could support the other in the way that we'd normally do if one of us was feeling down or having problems. I really wanted to enjoy my pregnancy, but I felt I couldn't talk to him about anything baby-related. Any time I bought anything in preparation for the baby, I did it on my own (or with a friend), and I felt I had to hide it from him. It was like I had a guilty secret, when it should have been a shared excitement. Any time I felt ill, he'd just say "well, you're the one that wanted a baby" (what a dick) so I stopped talking about it. I packed my hospital bag on my own. He didn't really talk about the baby much, or ask me how I was doing. When I initially went into labour (in the evening), I didn't tell him, but let him go to bed because I didn't feel that his presence would be helpful to me - I was better off on my own. It probably wasn't very logical, but I didn't wake him until I was ready to be taken to the hospital.
When the baby was born, for the first few days my husband was really supportive and engaged. I thought maybe he'd come around. But then after a week or so, things started to get really bad again. At times I was frightened about what he might do. I was actually envious of single mothers, because I felt that at least they only had to worry about the baby and themselves, whereas I was trapped in the middle, trying to look after the baby whilst also keeping my husband happy. I tried to keep our (his) life as similar to our pre-baby life as possible, by shielding him from the baby. I tried to keep the house super-tidy with no signs that a baby lived there, because that's what my husband wanted. I tried to look after a newborn by myself, whilst also maintaining the lifestyle we'd previously had - going out and about lots at weekends, letting my husband have his weekend lie-ins, etc. Every time the baby cried, I'd try to stop it as quickly as possible - not just for the baby's sake but so that the noise wouldn't bother my husband. I wanted to make having a baby as easy as possible for him, so that he'd change his mind and want it. Things didn't get any better. He was aggressive. I left a couple of times (as in, I went to stay with family and didn't know if I would come back), because I knew that I needed to prioritise looking after the baby and myself - my husband was old enough to look after himself. Unsurprisingly I found the whole situation very stressful. Within a few weeks I'd become quite seriously ill - basically a nervous breakdown (although it’s not called that nowadays). My husband wasn't particularly helpful about it.
He became abusive and ultimately I left him.
I wish I’d left him before the baby was born. I wish I’d not put his name on the birth certificate. I wish I’d not given the baby his surname. My life (since then) would have been so much easier.
I send you my hugs, and for your sake (and sort of for the sake of Former Me too) I really hope you’ll get out now, before the baby is born.
