A month ago, I gave birth to my daughter. Not long after, I discovered that every night my husband was secretly taking my b/rea/st milk to his mother’s house. I decided to follow him quietly one night. What I witnessed shook me deeply.
worse, because it asked me to accept something obviously untrue and pretend it made sense.
I had labeled every bag carefully. Tyler knew how hard pumping was, how much time it took, how much effort it cost me physically. There was no world in which he would “accidentally” throw away multiple bags of milk and not mention it immediately.
