My Husband Cheated 3 Weeks Postpartum Because Witnessing Birth “Traumatized” Him. He Sells Surgical Equipment For A Living. How Should I Handle His Big Presentation Tomorrow

The Honest Confession

My husband told me he cheated because watching me give birth to our daughter ruined his attraction to me. He said this like he was doing me a favor by being honest.

“I saw things come out of you that I can’t unsee,” he said. “You’re just not sexual to me anymore. You’re like a medical patient now.”

He had started sleeping with his coworker Megan three weeks after I gave birth. While I was bleeding, leaking milk, and trying to keep our newborn alive on no sleep, he was at her apartment telling her how disgusted he was by what my body had become.

“It’s not personal,” he said when I found out. “Male biology isn’t designed to witness birth. It triggers a protective response that kills sexual attraction.”

I researched it. There was no research. He made that up to sound scientific about being a terrible person.

Blake didn’t even try to hide the affair after I found out. He’d text Megan in front of me, leave for her place while I was nursing, and come home talking about how refreshing it was to be with someone whose body was still tight and clean.

“You should be grateful I’m being transparent instead of sneaking around,” he’d say. “Most men would just leave. I’m trying to make this work despite my biological repulsion.”

The Medical Excuse

He moved me into the guest room because he couldn’t sleep next to someone who reminded him of medical procedures. He’d describe in detail what he saw during delivery and how it haunted him: the stretching, the fluids, the smell.

“I’m scarred honestly,” he said.

But he expected me to cook his meals, wash his clothes, and handle all the baby care because those were my duties as a mother. He started bringing Megan around our friends, introducing her as his emotional support during this difficult time.

“Blake’s been through trauma,” she’d say, rubbing his shoulder. “Watching birth can give men PTSD. He needs understanding, not judgment.”

Our friends didn’t know what to say. Blake had turned himself into the victim. He’d tell anyone who’d listen about his suffering, how he’d supported me through pregnancy only to be visually assaulted by the delivery. He was trying to rebuild his ability to feel attraction, but my postpartum body was making it impossible.

“She doesn’t even try to look nice anymore,” he’d complain.

I was three months postpartum, running on two hours of sleep, covered in spit-up, and he wondered why I wasn’t wearing lingerie. He gave me a gym membership for Mother’s Day, a pack of diet pills for our anniversary, and a book about winning your husband back after a baby for my birthday. Each gift came with a speech about how he was investing in our future by helping me become attractive again.

“I’m fighting for us,” he’d say. “You need to fight too.”

The Breaking Point

The breaking point wasn’t the cheating or the cruel comments. It was when I overheard him on a work call. Blake was a medical equipment salesman who regularly sat in on surgeries to demonstrate products. He was laughing with colleagues about watching a cardiac procedure that morning.

“You should have seen the blood,” he said. “The chest cracked open like a lobster.”

He wasn’t traumatized by medical procedures. He was only disgusted by mine. That’s when I started planning.

I knew Blake’s company was about to launch a new surgical device, and he was in line for the lead presenter position. It would mean a huge promotion and bonus. He’d been preparing for months. The presentation was in front of 200 potential buyers plus all the company executives. Blake had to demonstrate the device during an actual surgery that would be broadcast on screens to the audience.

The surgery they’d chosen: a cesarean section.

Blake tried to get out of it when he found out, but his boss said it was perfect for showing the device’s precision with delicate procedures. If he refused, he’d lose the promotion to his competitor, Ramon, who was eager to step in.

Blake spent the week before the presentation practicing his speech about the beauty of bringing life into the world, the miracle of birth, and the precision required in obstetric surgery. I sat there listening to him rehearse lines about respecting the female body and the sacred process of delivery.