— When will you give us grandchildren? — my mother-in-law asked with a sneering mockery, as if casually, but clearly intending to hurt me. — How long can we wait? I told Andryusha—you’re not the right match for him! He took a dud, and now he’s suffering, poor thing…
Every word she said cut into my soul like a knife. I tried to keep composed, smile, nod, but inside I was boiling. I wanted to scream that I’m not a dud, that I love her son, that I want to give him a family—but she didn’t even give me a chance to prove it.
Dust swirled in the air, rising in a whirlwind under the wheels of our car as we approached the plot. The sun was blazing as if testing our strength, but I didn’t even notice the heat. My gaze was fixed on the house—our house, which was slowly but surely rising from the ground as a symbol of our love, our future. Andrey and I were building it not just from bricks and concrete, but with our souls, dreams, and hopes.
Andrey got out of the car, stretched like a man who knows he has done something important, and proudly looked over the construction site. His eyes sparkled.
— We’ll be celebrating the housewarming soon, Katya! — he said with a smile. — Think we’ll make it by autumn?
I nodded, trying to smile back, but inside I felt anxiety. The house was wonderful. But something was missing. Something important. And, as always, I decided to bring it up.
— Andryush, remember we talked about children? — I asked when we stepped into the still unfinished living room where our voices echoed off the walls.
He frowned. Apparently, he already knew I was bringing up this topic again.
— Of course, I remember. What’s up?
— I think it’s time to return to this question. The house is almost ready, we have all the conditions. I’m thirty-five, time doesn’t wait…
Andrey sighed and sat down on the windowsill, tiredly resting his elbows on his knees.
— Katya, we’ve already discussed this. I’m not against children, but I don’t want to rush. Let’s move into the house first, settle in, live for ourselves. Then we’ll see.
I felt irritation rising inside me. We’ve already lived for ourselves for a year. A year! I went through all the check-ups, I’m healthy. I want to be a mother. I want children’s laughter to ring through this house.
— Andrey, we’ve already lived for ourselves for a year! — I couldn’t hold it in. — I passed all the tests, I’m healthy. What’s the problem?
— The problem is that I’m not ready! Maybe I’m talking nonsense, but… I honestly don’t feel the need for children right now.
I exploded:
— Andrey, are you serious? I want a child because I love you and want to build a complete family with you! — I raised my voice, unable to hold back my emotions.
He stood up from the windowsill, came over to me, placed his hands on my shoulders, and said:
— I know, Katya. But I can’t get rid of the feeling that after the baby is born, our life will change drastically. And you simply won’t have time for me anymore.
I froze. It was so unexpected and silly that I didn’t even know what to say. Who does he take me for? But I didn’t want to quarrel, so I stayed silent. Just silent.
In the following months, the tension between us grew like a snowball rolling down a hill. Andrey showed in every way that even talking about children annoyed him. I couldn’t understand why he resisted my dream so much. We continued to live together, discussed household matters, planned renovations, but it seemed we were slowly but surely drifting apart.
One evening, during dinner, I couldn’t hold it anymore:
— Andrey, I want to talk to you, — I said, putting down my fork.
He sighed:
— Again! I know what you want to talk about, Katya. And I don’t want to discuss it again!
— I want to know why you’re so afraid of having children.
— I’m not afraid of children, Katya. I just… I’m not sure I’m ready to be a father again.
— What does that mean?
— It means I’m afraid to repeat my mistakes. I was a bad father to my older kids. I didn’t spend enough time with them; I was too busy with work. I don’t want another one of my children to grow up without a father.
His words struck me. That’s what he’s thinking about! I even felt touched. How much he worries about the child’s future, how he wants to be better than before.
— You won’t be a bad father, — I reassured him. — Andryush, you’ve become wiser, gained experience. I know you’ll be a wonderful dad.
He shook his head:
— I’m not sure. I’m afraid I’ll mess everything up again. Give me some time, okay?
The next day I decided to act. I made an appointment with a private specialist and asked her to write a referral for Andrey to get checked.
— I understand your concerns, — said the doctor after listening carefully. — You’re doing the right thing! Unfortunately, men’s health can deteriorate with age, especially problems with… well, you know what. Activity drops, psychological discomfort arises… Maybe he should have an exam to rule out any problems.
I came home holding the referral, full of hope.
— Andrey, I made an appointment for you to see the doctor, — I said when he came home from work.
He frowned:
— Why? What the hell do I need that for? I’m fine!
—I know, but I think it’s important. I passed all my tests and I’m fine. You need to rule out risks on your side too.
Andrey suddenly got angry:
— You think I’m infertile?
— No, of course not! Andryush, all couples do this: first they get checked, then plan, and only then start trying to conceive…
My husband’s face went red:
— I’m not going to humiliate myself in front of doctors. What am I, a teenager? Ugh, that sounds disgusting! And besides, I already have kids, so I’m healthy!
— But that was twenty years ago! You’re forty-five now! Things change! — I couldn’t hold back and raised my voice.
He jumped up sharply:
— I won’t let you talk to me like that! Do you think I’m some kind of defective?
— That’s not what I meant! I just want us to solve this problem together!
— I’m not going to solve anything! I’m tired of your freak-outs, Katya! Tired, you hear?!
He slammed the door and left somewhere, and I cried all night. How can you talk to him?!
Months passed. We lived in the same apartment but like strangers. Andrey ignored my attempts to talk — it seemed even my presence irritated him. Then a miracle happened unexpectedly — one morning while I was making breakfast, my husband came into the kitchen.
— Katya, I changed my mind, — he said quietly.
I looked up at him.
— What do you mean?!
— I agree to take the tests. But on one condition.
— What condition?
— You pay for everything. I don’t want to spend my money on this.
I was surprised but agreed. To hell with the money. The child is more important!
— Fine, I’ll pay. Let’s just get it done quickly.
A few weeks later, the test results came—I waited for them with a pounding heart. And they didn’t make me happy at all.
— Andryusha, we need to talk, — I said, unable to delay.
My husband sat on the couch and looked at me worriedly.
— What happened?
I handed him the results.
— You need to see an andrologist.
He took the papers and began reading—his face grew darker and darker.
— What does this mean?
— It means you have male health problems. You need treatment.
He pulled back his hand.
— I don’t believe this. It must be a mistake.
— Andrey, this is a doctor’s conclusion. You need to be treated.
He stood up and started pacing the room.
— I won’t treat anything. I’m healthy!
— If you don’t get treated, we will never have children! — I couldn’t hold back and cried.
He stopped and looked at me… indifferently, it seemed.
— Then it’s not meant to be. I won’t waste my money and time on this nonsense.
—I’ll pay myself! I’ll pay for the best doctors, the best medicines. Just get treated!
He was silent. The next day, he told me his mother was sure the problem was with me, not him. And he didn’t need treatment. Besides, we’re in a rented apartment now, but when we move into the house we built with our own hands, everything will work out without doctors.
That’s when I decided to be cunning.
Grandmother’s herbal teas, vitamins, persuading—all in vain, hitting the wall of stubbornness built not so much by him as by his almighty mother, as it seemed to me. My husband didn’t care about my feelings or opinions at all.
After the test results came, every morning started with a ritual: brewing herbal tea according to a special recipe. I mixed mint, chamomile, St. John’s wort, and one secret herb, added a spoonful of honey, and handed the cup to Andrey with hope. At first, he drank it with pleasure, praised the taste, said he felt more energetic. But then, as if by a snap of fingers, everything changed.
— What’s this nasty stuff? — he asked one morning, pushing the cup away.
— It’s herbal tea. Remember I told you? It’s good for men’s health.
— I don’t need your herbal teas. I feel fine without them.
— But Andrey, it’s healthy! For our future child, for you yourself, after all!
— Enough, Katya! I said no, means no. Don’t try to feed me nonsense. I don’t like it.
I understood it wasn’t about the tea. It was about his mother. She called him every day, brainwashed him, convinced him that I was obsessed with having a child and didn’t see him as a person. She methodically and purposefully destroyed me.
— What does she tell you? — I asked once when he finished another call.
— Nothing special. Just asks how we are doing.
— I see how you change after every call. She’s turning you against me!
— Don’t talk nonsense. Mom just wants me to be happy.
— And don’t I want you to be happy? Don’t I try for you? Don’t I do everything to have a child?
— You do everything for the child, not for me. You’re obsessed with this idea, you see nothing else around.
I felt completely helpless. I couldn’t fight his mother, I couldn’t change his opinion. I decided to ask for help from his aunt—a respected and influential woman. She always treated me well and, as it seemed, was wiser than his mother.
— Of course, dear, come visit. I’m always glad to see you, — she replied warmly, like a truly wise woman who knows how to listen and understand.
We met in a cozy café downtown, smelling of fresh coffee and pastries. Galina Petrovna—a woman with a firm gaze, strong character, and kind heart—listened carefully to my story. She didn’t interrupt, judge, or say “Well, it’s your fault.” She just listened. And when I finished, her voice was full of sympathy and determination.
— Katya, the situation is complicated, — she said, looking me straight in the eyes. — Your mother-in-law is a strong-willed woman. She always thought she knew better how others should live. But you’re not alone. I will help.
— I don’t know what to do, — I whispered, wiping tears. — I’m so tired of fighting windmills. I’m tired of being blamed for wanting a child. For loving him and wanting to create a real family.
—I’ll talk to Andrey, — she promised. — I’ll explain that you both should decide this problem together, not listen to his mother’s advice. I’ll try to convince him to see a doctor. I promise I won’t stop until I get results.
She took my hand in hers, warm and strong, and smiled. For the first time in a long while, I felt a little better. Maybe, with Galina Petrovna’s help, I could reach Andrey. God, I hope she helps!
Almost immediately after that conversation, Andrey left on a long business trip. Before leaving, he promised his aunt that when he returned, we’d go to her, and she would arrange a consultation with the best specialists.
I awaited his return eagerly. I believed that in those three months he had time to think, realize, hear reason. That he would finally take the path of understanding, remember how we built the house, dreamed of children, how I, with burning eyes, told him: “Imagine how children’s laughter will sound here.”
But my hopes collapsed like a house of cards, blown away by a breath of wind.
When Andrey came back, he was a completely different person. Totally different. As if someone had turned off the light in his soul, leaving only the shadow of the man I once loved.
— Andrey, Galina Petrovna is waiting for us. She’s already arranged with the doctors, — I said the first evening after his return, holding back my excitement.
He frowned. His face turned to stone.
— I changed my mind. I won’t see anyone.
— But you promised! You gave your word to your aunt! — I was shaking with hurt and confusion.
— I can change my mind. I have the right. I’m not obliged to do what I’m told, — he answered coldly, turning away.
— But why? What happened? What did your mother say? — I couldn’t understand what had happened.
— Mom said I shouldn’t listen to anyone but myself. Keep your wishes to yourselves. Don’t pressure me! — he shouted.
— Pressure? Am I pressuring you? — my voice trembled. — I just want us to have a child! Is that so much?
— I know what you want. But I’m not sure I want it as much as you do. And I’m not going to do anything until we move into the house. Mom says everything will happen by itself there, — he shrugged and went to the bedroom as if it was a perfectly normal conversation.
Happens by itself? I couldn’t believe my ears. How can someone be so naive and stubborn at the same time? The house. He went back to this sacred idea—as if walls, windows, and doors possess magical power capable of conceiving a child. Why did we even build two kids’ rooms and a playground in the yard? What the hell are they for if Andrey is not going to become a father?!
I understood that Andrey was stalling again. He hoped I would get tired, give up. But I wasn’t going to yield!
Emptiness—that word best described my state during those months. We moved into the house we built ourselves, but I felt no joy. Why so many rooms for two? Why so much space if there’s a void in the heart?
Life flourished around us, children were born. Relatives, colleagues, even the same employee with whom we went for tests as companions. She got pregnant almost immediately after the wedding, without much hope. I felt defective, as if it was my fault that there was no little miracle in my life.
— Well, Katya, when will you finally make us happy? — this question became the most hated.
Relatives asked it at every family holiday, colleagues at work, even strangers. Their eyes showed curiosity, sometimes pity. I answered with a strained smile, making excuses just to avoid further questions.
But the worst was at home—there I faced not only silence but constant pressure from my mother-in-law. Andrey moved his mother in with us because, supposedly, “we specially allocated a room for her.” Thank God she didn’t live with us all the time, only came by occasionally. She never openly bullied me, but I felt her contempt and displeasure keenly.
— Took a wife who can’t have kids, — I heard relatives whisper behind my back.
And no one wanted to know the problem wasn’t with me. It was easier to blame me than admit their son/brother/nephew might not be healthy.
Andrey’s brother often visited with his second wife Valya and their little daughter Nastya. Mother-in-law didn’t miss a chance to emphasize what a wonderful, smart, and beautiful girl Nastya was.
— Other grandchildren are already grown, and besides this girl, I don’t need anyone else, — she said looking at me defiantly.
Andrey was silent. He spent a lot of time with his niece and tried hard to pretend he didn’t notice how his mother was gnawing at me.
— Your husband doesn’t need anyone besides his niece either. For her, he’d move mountains, — mother-in-law cooed.
Over time, Andrey began to repeat after his mother.
— Valya was much older than you but got pregnant and gave birth immediately. What does it mean? That you’re defective! — he said, looking at me reproachfully.
At such moments, I felt worse than ever. Andrey knew perfectly well he was the reason we had no children, but stubbornly blamed me entirely.
Even Andrey’s almighty aunt, Galina Petrovna, suddenly stepped back.
— Sorry, Katya, but I can’t help you. It’s beyond me, — she said avoiding my gaze, — what, should I drag him to doctors by force?!
I knew mother-in-law had influenced her too. So what was I to do? Trick him again?
I found a good doctor specializing in male infertility and signed Andrey up for an appointment. The specialist assured me she’d definitely persuade my husband to get tested. I lied to Andrey, saying I needed someone to accompany me to the dentist. When we arrived at the clinic, the receptionist quickly talked him into it and personally led him to the right office. It seemed Andrey didn’t even realize what happened.
He came out of the office half an hour later. I closed my eyes: now he would yell. But surprisingly, my husband calmly sat next to me and said:
— I’ll get tested. You pay for it yourself. It costs a fortune!
I almost fell off the couch in astonishment.
— Of course, I’ll pay. Just start treatment.
The doctor made a good impression on Andrey. He was tactful, attentive, and convincing. Andrey even relaxed a bit, as if for the first time feeling that he wasn’t being judged but helped.
— They prescribed additional tests. I need to pay for them, — my husband told me a few days later.
— How much? — I asked, ready for any answer.
He named the amount. I took money from my wallet and handed it to him.
— Here, take it. Go get tested soon, — I said, hoping this would be the start of a new chapter in our lives.
But even here, things went wrong. In the evening, Andrey came home furious!
— It wasn’t enough! I had to leave my passport at the clinic! — he yelled, shaking the receipt.
As if the calm man who just agreed to the exam never existed. As if the stubborn, irritated person who doesn’t want to see the truth because it’s too painful returned.
— How wasn’t it enough? I gave you the money! — I exclaimed, not understanding what was happening.
— The money you gave wasn’t enough, — he shouted without explaining.
— Why didn’t you call me right away? I would have brought the money! — I tried to speak calmly, not giving in to his anger. — Fine, I’ll go to the clinic tomorrow and pay the remaining amount.
— I don’t want you to go. I’ll handle it myself. Give me the money! — he raised his voice.
— No, Andrey, I’m going. I don’t want your passport held as collateral. It’s stupid, — I insisted because I couldn’t allow his stubbornness to cost him his documents.
The next morning I went to the clinic. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and inside I trembled with anxiety. I paid the rest, took Andrey’s passport, and went home feeling I did something right.
But as soon as my husband learned I went to the clinic alone, he flew into a rage.
— Why did you do that? I said I’d handle it myself! — he shouted, pacing like a beast in a cage.
— Why are you so worked up? What did I do wrong? — I didn’t understand.
— You’re not helping me, you’re humiliating me! You’re making me look like an idiot in front of the whole city! — his voice trembled with rage, and there was something like hatred in his eyes.
That evening we had the biggest fight of our entire life together. We shouted at each other, blamed everything—from lies to betrayal. We poured out all our grievances, pain, and disappointments. I felt our love, once so bright and real, dying in this ocean of mutual misunderstanding.
The night was a nightmare. Andrey didn’t calm down—he paced the house like a beast in a cage, continuing to hurl insults. His voice rang in my ears like an alarm bell.
— You think I don’t understand what you did? You wanted to show everyone how worthless I am! She went to take my passport?! — he laughed bitterly and spitefully, as if trying to blame me for everything in his life.
I was silent. I had no strength left to argue. I just sat in the corner of the couch, wrapped in a blanket, watching everything we once built together collapse.
The next days were unbearable. Andrey ignored me, didn’t talk, didn’t look me in the eyes. He acted as if I didn’t exist. Meanwhile, his mother became even more brazen—she constantly provoked me, hinting at my inadequacy.
— So, Katya, when will you finally give us grandchildren? Or do you think Andrey will be babysitting his niece all his life? — she asked, looking at me with contempt.
I stayed silent. I didn’t want to argue with her—I knew it was useless. She deliberately pressed on the sore spot, deliberately drove me crazy. I forced myself to stop paying attention to the insults from Andrey and his mother. I started focusing on myself—going to the gym, taking English courses, meeting old friends. I tried to fill my life with new colors and impressions. I wanted to prove to myself and everyone else that I could be happy without a child.
But despite all my efforts, a void remained inside. If we had children, I would be treated with respect. After all, everyone danced around Valya, Andrey’s brother’s wife—this ugly rude gossip—just because she was able to have a child.
— She’s a mother! She gave birth to an heir! — everyone said as if it were the greatest achievement in life.
I stopped considering Andrey a man. Just like that. As if something inside switched. He doesn’t even consider me a wife or woman since he allows himself, his mother, and relatives to insult me? Well, fine then. How long can I endure? I stopped insisting on treatment. Doesn’t want to be a father? Fine. Do I need children only for myself? No thanks.
I no longer asked his permission when I needed to go somewhere—I simply stated the fact and did what I needed. I enjoyed going to the movies, cafes with friends, shopping. I needed to breathe fresh air because I was suffocating in this marriage. The family was already beyond saving—I knew that for sure. I was probably just buying time. Waiting for something.
And then, on a Saturday, I went to a restaurant with friends. I wanted to distract myself, have fun, and clear my head. And there, completely unexpectedly for myself, I got involved with a man. He approached me, offered to introduce himself. His name was Igor. At first, I hesitated, then thought: why not? Andrey doesn’t notice me anyway. Maybe at least this way I’ll feel like a woman.
I agreed. We talked, and suddenly I realized I was interested in him. He listened! He saw me! And he looked at me the way Andrey never did—with love, respect, and desire to be near. That’s how I got a lover. I didn’t even expect it from myself.
We met secretly, hiding from friends and acquaintances. I felt like a schoolgirl, but these meetings gave me some relief. And just three months later, I became pregnant. And everything turned upside down.
I left Andrey in one day—just packed my things, wrote a short note: “Goodbye. I don’t love you. I’m divorcing.” Without explaining anything to anyone, I left. Of course, I was scared, but I felt it was the right thing to do. Now I live with Igor, a man who truly loves me. We are expecting a son. He cares for me, loves me, respects me. For the first time, I feel truly happy.
I divorced Andrey with a scandal, took half the house through court. When Andrey learned I was leaving, he begged me to come back for a long time. He cried, begged, said he would agree to any of my conditions.
— Don’t go! I’ll fix everything! I’ll be the best husband in the world! — he shouted, throwing himself at my feet.
Mother-in-law kept calling, asking me to reconsider. She said I was destroying the family.
— I’ll personally take him to the doctor. By the hand! — she screamed. — Don’t do stupid things, come back! Who’d want you, a divorcee?
But I didn’t flinch. I knew I was doing the right thing.
Oh, what a scandal broke out when my ex found out about my pregnancy… They poured so much dirt on me it would be enough for a dozen court tragedies. They accused me of betrayal, greed, coldness. But I stood firm. I didn’t give up. And now, looking at my belly where our son with Igor is growing, I regret nothing.
I am free.
I am loved.
I am happy.
And I’m sure everything will be fine.
