Should I (29F) Divorce My Husband (34M) While I’m Pregnant?

Hello reddit, I might post this in different subs to get more perspectives. 

But essentially, I’m wondering if I should divorce my husband, and especially if I should divorce my husband now that I’m pregnant again. This might be kind of long so I apologize in advance.

My husband (34) and I (29) have been together for 10 years (11 in Dec), married 9 years in a couple of weeks. 

When we were younger, we got along very well. We met when I had just turned 19 and he was 23 (24 shortly after). We were both quiet people, he was very polite, he’d do all of the “gentlemenly things”, he seemed to care for me, we’d do everything together, he was nice to my cat who adored him, he’d do minor tasks for me, he’d surprise me, he’d come home during his lunch break every single day and surprise me with lunch, etc. etc. Something however I now know was a major red flag was that he would never ever let me go out alone. He’d frame it as being worried about my safety, but I was not ever allowed to leave the apartment. I had one job for maybe 2 months the entire time we’ve been together and that was at a store a block away from our apartment which I did not deviate off the path of. Another red flag in hind sight I know now is he would never actually listen to my opinion on things. A big example was the discussion of our wedding photographer. My God Mother, rest her soul, had done my senior photos. My husband saw these photos and pressured me to have her be our photographer. I told him no, I didn’t like that idea at all and that he did not see the hundreds of photos she took that were abysmal and ended up deleted, at least 90% of the photos she took. He did not care and pressured it even when I warned him against it. Needless to say, we have no good wedding photos. They’re all blurry, red, motion blurred, something. He also would become very quiet and upset if the mention of any of my exes were brought up ever, as he did not like that I had a history, but I digress.

As the years progressed, we lived the same way, he was still polite, quiet, caring, all the good stuff, but we’d spend a lot of our time doing our own thing in the same space unless we left the house. For example I’d be playing video games while he either gamed or worked on his schooling. We’d go on our dates  we’d take our walks around the lake or mall, get drinks, chat, everything stayed the same essentially. Then we began the discussion of kids.

At first we were very enthusiastic and I asked him repeatedly what that would look like, what his contributions would be, I drilled him, and he said that babies would be my primary responsibility but as I stressed I would still like occasional help, he agreed but that I was primary caretaker. Then we were met with infertility, and through it all he was supportive, holding me as I cried everytime a friend or in law got pregnant, yet I couldn’t seem to at all. We had even begun going to a fertility clinic, and at this point I was about 21, and while I was young he had finally managed to get an alright job due to all of his schooling in different forms of tech and computer science. We figured out some of the reasons I was having trouble conceiving, and were about to start IVF treatments, when shortly after my 22nd birthday, we got a positive pregnancy test. 

To say I was ecstatic is an understatement. I cried and cried and immediately fell into loving my baby and even doing things like doing a little wave bye near my stomach to husband as he left for work. I was extremely excited, yet no one else seemed to be. His family has never liked me, his mother even trying to set him up with one of his sister’s teachers when we were dating, as when I’d met him I had piercings, and a pixie cut, and had had dyed hair, essentially I didn’t meet the standards they had for their eldest son. They were not enthusiastic about our wedding (his mother crying multiple times not out of happiness), and they didn’t show any emotion at all when we told them I was pregnant.

Still, though, I was excited. Husband however stayed neutral. He said it was in case anything bad happened and assured me that he was excited, but our lives didn’t change much, except for me being the only person seemingly excited by this pregnancy.

Now, for a bit of background, when we met, we both moved 2 hours away to a different city to be near his school. At first, we’d make occasional trips to my city to see my people, but we’d always spend holidays and differently birthdays and made monthly trips to his parents house. I always asked if I could not go because I’ve never once felt welcome there, but again, I wasn’t allowed to not go for “safety”. And over time, the trips to see my people became essentially non-existent. I did not mind as I wasn’t very close to my parents, and at the time I felt like a burden to my god-family, so I did not push back much.

Anyway, the time for baby to come out came closer and closer and I was excited. I was scheduled to be induced and all was good, things were nice between us, nothing had changed. I tried to induce labor with a Midwives Brew the Thursday (our due date) before the Monday we were scheduled for induction, and overnight my contractions were steady, but around 7am we went into labor and delivery (L&D from here on) and they had stopped. However in the time I’d seen my doctor the day before and that point, I had developed severe preeclampsia and they decided to induce me at 730 am Saturday. 

My labor was he- ll to put it plainly. The contractions were amped due to the pitocin and finally at about 1am I decided to get an epidural (I had originally wanted natural). I got the epidural, and I slept for maybe 2 hours and at 3am my contractions started again and continued to get worse. I kept telling the nurses I was in pain and they just continued to ask “pain or pressure” and dismissed me. Being my first time, I didn’t know what was normal, but I was in so much pain, I couldn’t think  I was crying, I was in and out of consciousness- still awake-, but unable to do, well, anything. Still through this, husband was there, holding my hand, asking what he could do.

Them telling me it was finally time after me constantly begging them to check me felt like such a relief, and due to the pain I was in, what was actually 4-5 hours of pushing, felt like 20 minutes and I did not feel the pain from having the baby come out. 

I ended up with a third degree tear, yet my OB informed me that it was just barely a fourth degree tear. Or a tear from the front all the way down to the back.

The cherry on top, when the anesthesiologist was going to remove my tube he said the tube was somehow cracked, and I had stopped receiving any medication a long time ago, even though they had come in to check my supply when I complained of pain still, they never checked the tubing and he’d said he’d never seen that happen. I was not getting any pain relief at all.

Everything hurt. I couldn’t sit without pain, I couldn’t hardly stand without pain, I couldn’t stand without peeing all over myself and the floor as I had no control of my bladder due to the tr–ma, and using the restroom was excruciating. And through this pain, I expected my husband to care for me and aid me. Yet as soon as the baby came out, it was like a flip switched.

We had wanted to breastfeed, and through the pain, I was trying my hardest, but while baby would latch sometimes, others he wouldn’t, and my postpartum nurse was very rough about it. Getting annoyed that I wasn’t doing it correctly, telling me my baby wasn’t a porcelain doll and I could be stronger in moving his head on there, squeezing me roughly, all the while med students were coming in and out of the room, and my husband slept peacefully on the couch. My son, would not sleep. He cried almost constantly, and if he wasn’t crying he was feeding which were extremely sore and bleeding from the constant feeding that did not end (not exaggerating). Feeling like a failure, and extremely low due to my pain and the embarrassment from the constant bathroom accidents, I was crying, I was stressed, and I was at my lowest. 

I told my husband that due to these factors, if he wanted his family to come see the baby, they needed to do it now while we were in the hospital, because I wanted to rest and heal at home (remember they don’t like me and are always judging what I do. I did not want that in my home). He said not a problem and when his mother asked if she should come down to the hospital, he told her no.

We finally went home days later, as it was my first time I was overly worried and stayed longer than needed. And things went from bad to worse. Baby still would not stop feeding, would not sleep, would not stop crying. I was still in severe pain and wearing postpartum diapers. I was still extremely embarrassed and had not slept except for the 2 or 3 hours Id gotten when my epidural was working. I was losing my mind, I was breaking down in tears in the rocking chair next to our bed because my chest hurt so bad and baby would wake up anytime I set him down and I was falling asleep holding him. I would try to wake my husband, even going so far as to throw water bottles and any items I could reach at him to try and wake him up for help. He would “sleep” through it all. The one or two times (literally one or two) I managed to convince him to do a feeding with formula, he’d just be mad about it and shame me for not breastfeeding.

The cherry on top, going back to me telling him if his mom wants to see baby, she should do it in the hospital, to which he told her no and also assured me she wouldn’t come down after. Well, she kept asking him and asking him to come to our city to visit. He kept pressuring me to say yes, when I had told him I had said she could’ve come to the hospital but he said no. I told him again why I didn’t want her to come down, and he tried to guilt me into changing my mind, even mentioning how she said I was interfering with any “bond forming” she could have with the baby. I did stay firm on this to husband and said no, I told you my wishes, I told you why, and it’s not my fault you couldn’t deal with it.

Things only continued to get worse. My postpartum depression was through the roof, husband was not helping me, I was not getting any sleep, baby always crying and eating, and then we discovered baby had a milk and soy allergy and thats why he wasn’t gaining weight, why he wasn’t feeding, sleeping, all of it. So we got put on special formula, but also my husband INSISTED i continue to breastfeed even though I’d had many instances of crying and begging him to allow me to stop, to which he would not let me. So he also had ne continue breastfeeding, which meant I had to cut out all dairy and soy and any derivatives of them from my diet, the responsibility of figuring out what I’d eat fell completely on me.

Now, he is concerned with breastfeeding because he is VERY concerned with our babys’ brains. He would not let me take antidepressants, no anti anxiety, no soy, no birth control, every little thing that could even possibly affect their neurological development I am not allowed to have when pregnant or breastfeeding, and also he believes breastfeeding is better for their brains so thus, forces me to breastfeed.

Anyway, we discovered the allergy when changing a diaper and noticed blood. Something he claims HE found, the way in which he says so blaming me and essentially saying it’s my fault we didn’t discover it sooner, even though I checked every single diaper for any miscolorization. He’s the hero and I’m the villain because I didn’t find it.

Regardless, things were testy, my sleep did not improve, nor did my mood or soreness and pain. This led to our first fights, always resulting from him constantly telling me what I was doing wrong, how I should or shouldn’t be doing this or that, how every single second of my attention should be given to the baby, how I’m not playing right, how I’m not teaching right, etc.etc. He would yell at me for showering “WHAT THE F IS TAKING YOU SO LONG?!” “WHAT THE F ARE YOU DOING?!” (mind you my showers take about 10-15 minutes, and were a bit slower due to the pain from water on my stitches)- the yelling for showers continued for at least a year-. Essentially, if he had to watch the baby, or if I was not fully locked on 24/7 I wasn’t doing it right. He’d yell at me if baby was crying because I’d set him down, or if baby was crying because I was trying to go to the restroom, or if baby was crying because I’d be doing dishes or cook, just anything was met with criticism, nasty tones, or yelling. This led to a fight where he said since I’m not doing well enough and don’t want to be a mom (I was laying on our play mat exhausted while baby was playing with toys 2 feet from me when he came home) maybe I should leave to which I said “Yeah, and then you’ll take him from me and make sure I never see him again” to which he said “Absolutely I will.”

I believe this single line is the core to why I have trouble leaving.

I was gobsmacked. I sat in silence for a few minutes before getting up and leaving the apartment for an hour. He pretended this never happened and we never talked about it and when brought up he’d say “I didn’t say that” and various forms of “No I didnt” except I wouldn’t back down, eventually getting a non apology years later.

As a side context, eventually at 8 months old, I ended up bed sharing with baby from exhaustion. And this helped my sleep slightly. 

Things did not change or improve. Eventually, I noticed that he never said “I love you” first, he never kissed me first, he never hugged me first, he never initiated any kind of care or loving first- so I stopped. I stopped doing it all to see if he’d do it at all. He did not. And yet, he noticed it had stopped in which he blamed it on me and when I pointed out that I was always the initiator, I just stopped meaning it stopped all together. He didn’t buy this and just blamed me.

I had gotten pregnant at some point and miscarried. When I wanted to go to the ER, he was mad at me, annoyed that I wanted to go in. And he never consoled me as I grieved. The only thing said about this was much later when he said “yeah I probably should’ve handled that differently.”

Eventually, I ended up pregnant again with Middle baby. I thought, okay that was first baby, everything was new, maybe things will be better. They were not.

He still did not change diapers, he still did not wash bottles, he would not help, he did ONE night feeding when we’d brought baby home.

And, since I had started bed sharing, Oldest didn’t want to sleep on his own in his room, so husband would sleep in the room with him, completely leaving me alone with the baby every night.

The pregnancy for Middle was fine, though my OB picked up on my depression and tried prescribing me SOMETHING, but I told her the circumstances and why he wouldn’t let me and she did not like any of it. She tried giving me a script anyway along with another med refill for a med I take for a condition I developed after I had my Oldest (I also suddenly had astigmatism show up, I believe the stress took a toll on my health), for me to take discreetly if I wanted. I did not end up taking it out of fear. I also told her I was having trouble connecting to the pregnancy because of the comment my husband had made about making sure I never see Oldest again. If he’d take them from me and never let me see them again… I couldn’t be happy to be pregnant or connect to the pregnancy. She seemed concerned and tried to assure me that he couldn’t do that, and overall tried to support me. But while I heard her, I couldn’t find a will to make change.

The delivery for Middle went better, tearing wasn’t as bad, the epidural was essentially super glued to my back to keep the tube in place, but the incontinence reappeared. Still pain, still postpartum diaper embarrassment, still no help. Any minor task he did “for me” was seen as climbing Mount Everest for him such as the first day home when he microwaved me a frozen meal. I still did all the cooking and cleaning, baby stuff, and now toddler stuff. 

And I forgot to mention through all of this, I was not ever allowed to let them watch tv or have any kind of screen. Ever. If I turned the tv on at all, it was a fight.

On top of it all, before I had gotten pregnant, I had decided to start community college to get an associates in Education. Most of the classwork was online save for maybe 2 or 3 classes where I had a lab or I had to do in person observations/assistant work. I started school not pregnant, continued through pregnancy, even turning in an assignment while I was in labor, and then continued schooling after. My husband would not watch the kids to let me do homework, ever. He’d only watch them if I had a class I was on Zoom for, when I had a test that I absolutely couldn’t have kids around for, and when I had to go in person. But anything not that, I was forced to juggle. 

Before I could graduate, 9 months after having Middle, I got pregnant again. I know, I know, I’m stupid. So now I was juggling an infant, a toddler, and pregnancy. I finished my degree and walked the stage heavily pregnant, though due to some circumstances, I had to finish over the summer. Still, no help when doing assignments or homework, most of my assignments turned in late or barely on time and I spent a good deal of time crying in my closet after everyone was asleep.

Due to baby number 3, while I was pregnant, husband decided maybe we should move to the city HIS parents live in to have “help” with the kids. 

I told him point blank I did not want to do this, I take care of the kids alone anyway, and that this was a bad idea. I had told him before I never wanted to move to their city (fairly small city) and I definitely did not want to be any closer to people who did not like me.

I told him, beyond my distaste for his parents’ distaste of me, which I still don’t understand as I am ALWAYS respectful of them and their home, that they would NOT help with the kids. Every single month we go to their house they’re clearly done being around the kids and that’s barely when we’ve been there an hour. They avoid the children mostly, and my husband is ALWAYS reluctant and only ever asked them ONCE to babysit so we could run into town. Any other time I’d try to ask him to ask them to babysit so we might have a date, he just would not do it.

So I told him this. I liked our city, they don’t like me, they can’t handle more than 30 minutes with the kids, he never has the balls to ask them to watch the kids, and that whatever dreamland he was imagining just was not going to happen. 

So of course, he did not renew our lease, and forced me to look at homes in their city, to which we moved before Youngest was born. His mother criticizing my driving 2 hours back to my OB i already had established, criticizing my pre school choices, and the CHERRY ON TOP was that his mother who had not worked a single day in my husband’s life, got a job a month after we moved to her city. The city she was always begging us to move to.

Shortly after we moved in as well, an incident occurred where our Middle who was 1 year old now, fell down the stairs to the basement as we hadn’t had baby gates installed yet. This of course was my fault, as I was not in the same room, the room that husband, my father in law, my sister in law, AND my mother in law were all in and knew Middle was under their watch. But no, it was my fault, husband took Middle child from my arms and stared daggers and vitriol my way.

After moving to his parent’s city, my stress increased and so did my depression. Leading to almost…yeah.  However, I did not go through with it as doing something to myself is one thing, but I couldn’t do it to the baby in my tummy. But things did not improve.

And despite covid restrictions lifted, he never asked his mother or siblings to watch children so he could go to any prenatal appointments. He avoided all appointments for middle due to Covid.

Then Youngest was born. Husband begrudgingly asked his mother to watch our older two while we were in our original city for the induction.

Labor went fine, small tearing, and again I stressed the anesthesiologist on my epidural. However, as soon as we were being wheeled to postpartum floor the panic attacks set in. I felt trapped, my anxiety was through the roof, my sense of dread was at an all time high. I couldn’t breathe yet was hyperventilating, I felt like I was in a cage. I think all of my past experiences caught up to me and I just could not calm down. Husband did not notice any of this. Remember, he doesn’t allow me to take hardly any kinds of meds. When the nurse did one of her middle of night checks at like  4am, before she left the room, I pulled all my willpower into standing against the pain and urge to pee on the floor, and rushed over to her while I thought husband was asleep to ask her for some kind of anti anxiety medication because I was just constantly in a panicked state and I told her how he would not let me take meds like that and I knew he’d be upset if I found out, but that I was freaking out. 

She seemed concerned but got me a small dose of something (which didn’t end up helping but that’s neither here nor there). But as soon as I got back in bed, husband’s eyes were on me and he asked what was going on. I did not tell him immediately, but eventually did relent to which he was upset about. My OB for this delivery was the same as Middle and when she caught wind of this, her and the nurses had my husband leave, insisting he needed to bring the carseat up for inspection, and when he left they asked me if I was safe. 

Everytime I was asked this question, I always answered yes because he does not physically put his hands on me. We went on our way.

Again, nothing changed. While he did not yell at me for showering anymore, he just lived like everything was fine.

Oldest ended up having jaundice a day after we returned home, prompting me to be in the hospital alone with him during treatment.Then the same day I returned home with him, my Middle had a febrile seizure and I was back in the hospital again, running on pure stress and no sleep. It was quite the week. Then, after Youngest turned one, he began having seizures, again all medical concerns, appointments, discussions placed on my plate. All overnight EEGs, all medication problems, all insurance calls, all on me alone.

After all of this, husband and I were no longer intimate unless HE wanted it (which was only like once a month or two) any of my advances met with constant rejection. There were no kisses, there were no hugs or kisses, or care, or help, and once again no help with the baby at all.

Eventually I brought up what I wanted for him for our marriage. He started off strong by saying point blank “I want you to submit to me”. I told him, you know what, I’d be happy to but I want an occasional kiss, I want hugs, I want an occasional I love you. I told him, I just wanted him to pretend that he liked me. He just said that he does like me and in response to my request of “occasional kisses and I love yous” he said that I read too many books and video games and that it isn’t realistic. 

I also brought up how he will not ever tell me of plans until literally five minutes before (as he will stay the night with his brothers or at his parents alone occasionally or have phone calls with his friends or go to his sisters college band performances) and how he’ll start talking to me about something and I have to inform him that he hasn’t told me anything about it before. How he tells everyone else everything about what’s going on or his plans yet he doesn’t tell the ONE person he should tell first. Shrugged off.

Nothing changed. Constant rejection from him, no romance, no dates, and while he still criticized me, it was significantly less. And, of course, I was right and moving here did not change anything except for forcing us into a worse city for our kids’ education, something he is very anal about, among other things like any kind of sports or outside activities for them to do as they got older. 

We began to fight occasionally, each time he seemed to think it was out of nowhere and he never understood what the problem was. Anytime I would reiterate what I wanted from him, small small miniscule acts of pretending to like me, he would refuse, or he would agree yet they would never come. There had been a few instances where something would happen, like when I had a non-epileptic seizure, that the doctors would tell him I was too stressed, that he would help me with things for maybe a week or two before returning to his usual self. Again, he would blame it on whatever book or game I was reading or playing at the time for giving me unrealistic standards of what marriage was. And anytime I’d bring up the kids, he’d say it was my responsibility and point blank compare me to his mother. Once he brought up how she had told him she cried a lot when he was little, to which I asked him if that’s what he wanted for me, and he essentially agreed, continuing to compare me to his mother constantly. His mother was a military wife, her husband deployed a lot, so he wants me to just handle everything and not bother him with a thing. He says he already does too much by watching the kids on occasion.

Our Oldest by now also does not respect me anymore. He does not listen to anything I say, he actively upsets me on purpose, talks back, behaves badly only around me, because when he was little any time I tried to enforce discipline such as time out of losing something like a toy, my husband would yell at me and let Oldest off the hook, babying him and taking Oldest’s side constantly. My oldest also says rude things to me, he tells me I’m a bad mother, he likes dad more, he will tell me “I don’t think you like us”, tell others “I don’t think my mom loves me” even though I never give him reason to doubt that, and even “tells” on me to his father when I do something he doesn’t like.

Up til now, I had no one. I did not talk to my parents, I was not ever allowed trips to my city to see my God family at all, I had no friends, I talked to no one except him. When suddenly I got the call that my God mother was in hospice and had maybe a week left. To my surprise, my husband allowed me to go see her. I went up 2 separate times, each time my fear was through the roof that he would be upset. The 3rd and final trip I had a feeling and I ended up staying later than I had told him. He told me it was fine and to just stay, but I teared up thinking he would yell at me and be upset when I returned the next day. That night, I stayed with her and she passed and I returned home at about 5 am, driving 2 hours back home. I expected him to be mad at me and I apologized profusely, and while he hugged me for maybe 2 minutes, that was it. He didn’t console me, but he didn’t get upset either, at least not outwardly which was more than I could ask for.

Over the next few months, I finally joined Tiktok (I have no other social media) and ended up making some friends in a fandom for a game I was playing. Some of these are very close friends to me now, and over time they found out more and more of my story and told me point blank I was experiencing ab*se even if he wasn’t hitting me. When talking to my own mother about the situation her response was always “well he doesn’t hit you so you should be happy” because my father hits her. But these friends even tried to find resources for me and tried to convince me that no, this was not alright.

After more fights, I broke down and finally called my God sister last month. I havent spoken to her since our mom passed and before that I hadn’t spoken to her outside of happy birthdays. I called her and broke down, I told her what I could and she said she was there for me and would take me in if I needed.

I was in the state of mind that I had no one. I’ve never had a job, I’ve never made payments, I’ve never even lived alone, and the fear of leaving him to be left with nothing and no where to go scared me greatly, yet here she was offering somewhat of a refuge. 

I made the decision to tell my husband I wanted a divorce. I told him. He was not happy, and decided after years of fights and even me bringing up marriage counseling (he always said it was a waste of time and a crock) he suddenly offered to do it. Said I was being selfish and that it’s more important for the kids to have a mom and a dad, the majority of his argument was that I’m being selfish, only thinking of myself and not the kids, and that he did love me and yada yada.

The next day I was trying to discuss my leaving. He told me I couldn’t leave until I filed paperwork. This put me a bit on edge, as I was struggling with my decision. My only fear being leaving my children, especially my Youngest, who he had yet to turn against me.

I told him I could wait until after his trip to Europe coming up (which is also during our anniversary, its for him and his family to go to some wedding, not me or our kids we were not included), and he said, no not without paperwork and that he would let me have the car if I let him have full custody. I could leave and take my stuff and not worry about debts and whatnot (even though all of our medical debt is in my name since I deal with all the kids medical) and he would get the kids.

That night, out of fear of upsetting him since I couldn’t leave, I did not push back when he made advancements. He took this as I no longer wanted to divorce and that we were fine now.

Which brings me to now. On Tuesday, I took a pregnancy test. I’d had a feeling and had thought, if I am I’ll keep it a secret and leave. But when I saw the positive, all the previous experiences came rushing back and I had a panic attack. I started hyperventilating and he ended up seeing the test. He did not console me, he didn’t have much of a reaction, just said “we’ll figure it out”.

Throughout that day I kept crying, I had a couple panic attacks, he did not care really, but hey he let me go get tacos for lunch. As I was recounting this to my now closet friend, she was trying to console me the best she could. And yet, nothing from my husband.

Wednesday I told him we needed to talk. I brought up my concerns, how he never helped me, how he blames everything on me, how he does not help me, how I was freaking out, how I wasn’t happy to be pregnant, how I was scared of him, and how I just didn’t feel I could do this with him again.

He blamed it all on me, how he doesn’t ask me for help with HIS job, how his job and providing money contributes more to the family, a lot of non apologies, he never addressed his yelling at me until he said he never did to which I gave him specific examples to which he just ignored, he said sorry that “you couldn’t meet my high expectations”, and he assured me that things would be different and that I’d just have to trust that. I told him he’s had 3 chances to prove otherwise and he hasn’t. He said “well  sorry I ruined your great escape. You can wait out the next year and then you can leave and do whatever the f- you want”

I said to him, “Why so you can take my baby from me?”

To which he turned around my crying on me and said “well with your current mental state…”

Everything was turned on me, my inability, my insecurities, just…all of it was my fault. Every. Little. Thing.

I told him things wouldn’t be different despite him telling me to trust him and he essentially said I don’t know what the right answer is. But I told him that all of the answers and responses he gave me are the exact same ones he gives me every other time we fight, and that his insistence on it being purely my responsibility and that he already does too much, tells me it won’t change.

He did try to bring up all that he does now, he’ll go outside with the kids sometimes, and starting ONE month ago, he decided he would take our oldest to school on Tuesdays and Thursdays instead of our usual of me taking the kids every single day while he sleeps in until 10-1030 when he has a work meeting (he works from home). 

Which brings me to now. The obvious answer to the question is yes, I should divorce him. However, when my God sister made the offer, I was not pregnant. 

If we divorce, I was not planning to fight him on custody. We live in a nice home, we are near his family, the kids are in school now except for Youngest, they have established friends and routines, he makes good money, they love their grandmother… essentially, I’m not going to take them from that to go couch surf in poverty. A judge giving me custody would have to be an idiot, I know this. I don’t expect it. And he does not ab*se the kids in any way shape or form, it’s only me. I don’t want to completely upend their life beyond my leaving. And even when I told him I wanted divorced, I had reservations, because I don’t want to leave my children.

Yet now…. I don’t think I can do this again. I can feel the depression and anxiety returning. He leaves for his trip on Sunday and will be gone for a couple weeks (no mention of our anniversary even before we fought). My original plan was to maybe file divorce papers while he was gone but still, I felt a pit in my stomach at the idea of leaving my children.

The idea of doing labor and delivery, doing postpartum and baby care again with him…. I don’t know that I’ll survive it. I often wished with the others that he’d cheat on me or hit me so I could leave freely, that I’d much rather care for a baby alone than with him. But now, how can I leave while pregnant? If I somehow get a job and resources if I left (I can’t save money on the side or even take out cash back secretly as I always have to ask permission to buy things and he keeps a close eye on our finances) would I have a chance at custody for the new baby who has no ties to the city husband is in? How would custody look for my other kids when I would be 2 hours away (husband said he would not drive to me and he can’t because he gets vertigo when driving on the highway)? Would it even be right of me to separate siblings in that way?

I just don’t know what to do. I don’t want to leave my kids, but I also don’t want to take them away from their nice life and situation. I don’t want to separate siblings, but I also don’t know that I can do this again. I’ve made plenty of dumb decisions to get here, and it’s my fault for never turning him away, but I’m terrified. I haven’t been able to be happy that I’m pregnant or connect to my baby at all. I was happy while making the appointment for the ultrasound, but it quickly faded when husband came near. I am meeting with my God sister on Saturday, and I will ask her advice, but I’m so unsure. I want to leave, but I don’t want to leave my kids and my brain is telling me to just deal with it “If I’m going to be unhappy anyway, I may as well suck it up and be unhappy but with my kids”. What if it is different this time (I know it won’t be). 

I’ll be talking to my friends, or in a space away from him and I’ll visualize it and be happy and think it will all work out. But as soon as I’m near him again I second guess myself. As soon as my youngest tells me “i love you” or runs to me when he’s scared, I tell myself I can’t leave. The idea of being a mother without custody and the extra stigma from that on top of my non-existent self esteem, even though it’s what best for them has me second guess. Things will be calm for days, then if husband seems upset about something I feel my heart pound in the event he’s mad at me. I’m just in a completely different mindset when he’s around. Everything makes me question.

Has anyone gone through anything similar? Should I leave even though I’m pregnant? Should I file the papers while he’s in Europe? How do I find it within myself to leave my children without feeling selfish and guilty? How do I explain the situation to them? My Youngest just turned 3, how do I make sure he doesn’t forget me if I leave? I will be leaving to bum off of others until I can possibly get a minimum wage job, what do I do? I know I can get snap, WIC, medicaid, but how do I even begin to pay a lawyer? I don’t want to get alimony or anything as our Oldest goes to a (admittedly cheap since small town) private school because the private school allowed him to skip a grade, and our Middle is in preschool. I’d rather that money goes to their schooling, food, and needs, rather than to me. I don’t mind starting from zero, I don’t want anything from him, but I’m not sure what I can do with an Associates.

I guess I’d like some guidance. After telling my friends they urged me to leave, my closest friend again looking up resources for me including state specific (Missouri). I will ask sister what she thinks, but it feels like husband is trying to baby trap me (also ab*rtion is not an option for me personally even if it were available near me). I just would like some guidance. I know everything is screaming at me to leave, but part of me still thinks I should stay.

I’m sorry this ended up so long, I really tried to condense 10 years into as little information as I could, but I may have overshared. Please help.

TLDR: Husband isn’t the best, but I’m unsure if I should even leave while I’m pregnant or how I would.