When I went into labor with our first child, I thought my husband Dave would never leave my side. But just hours in, his phone rang — it was his mother. Moments later, he kissed my forehead, whispered he’d be quick, and walked out. I was horrified to learn later that he left to help her carry groceries.

I felt abandoned in one of the most vulnerable moments of my life. Thankfully, my dad rushed over and held my hand as I gave birth to our daughter, Gabrielle. The nurse even recorded the moment for me, something Dave should have done. As I held my baby, I left a flash drive with the video — and a letter — for my husband.

In the letter, I wrote: “This is what you missed. This is the once-in-a-lifetime moment you chose to skip. Our daughter deserved both her parents here. I hope you understand the pain you caused.” When Dave finally showed up, we were already gone.

Days later, he came begging for forgiveness, admitting he had chosen wrong. I told him this was his one and only chance — he had to prove he could put us first. I forgave him, but I’m still waiting for his mother to apologize.