Before getting married, my wife and I had made a clear promise: no kids. We were aligned on being childfree, and honestly, it was a relief. But a year into marriage, she changed her mind. “I want a baby,” she said one night over dinner. I was stunned. We argued for weeks until I quietly made a decision—I got a vasectomy in secret, thinking it would settle things without another fight.

Months later, she sat me down, beaming. “I’m pregnant,” she said. My heart dropped. I immediately assumed the worst. “That can’t be my baby,” I told her. She was devastated by the accusation, but agreed to a DNA test. When the results came back confirming I was the father, I nearly fainted. The vasectomy had failed—and I hadn’t told her I’d even had one.

Now she thinks I saw her as a cheater instead of my partner. I apologized, but how do you undo the kind of damage that comes from not just doubt—but secrets? She barely speaks to me. Her words cut deeper than I expected: “How could you think so little of me?” I want to tell her everything, but I’m terrified it’s too late.

I still love her. I want to make this right, for her and for the baby I never thought I’d have. But trust is broken. I have to decide whether to keep hiding or finally lay all the truth on the table—and hope that love is strong enough to survive it.