I gave birth to our youngest son at fifty-four.
Altogether, we had eleven children.
Of course, all those years took their toll on me. After so many pregnancies, my health deteriorated significantly. I was constantly exhausted, gained weight, and developed wrinkles. The idea of going to the gym almost made me laugh because there were days when I barely had time to eat a proper meal or even take a shower in peace.
My husband’s life, however, was completely different.
While I took care of the children, he built his career, went on business trips, met people, and gradually began earning very good money. He went to the gym regularly, took care of his appearance, bought expensive clothes, and traveled for work several times a year.
And despite all that, he increasingly started saying:
“Maybe we should have one more? What’s eleven? We could make it twelve.”
I would just laugh.
Despite my exhaustion, I was convinced that I had a wonderful family and a loving husband who understood everything I had sacrificed for him and our children.
But one day, I discovered what he really thought of me.
That evening, several of my husband’s friends came over. They set up the grill on the patio, cooked meat, laughed, and talked while I stayed in the kitchen preparing salads and appetizers for them.
My youngest son was only five months old, so I carried him against my chest in a baby carrier.
When everything was ready, I picked up a tray and headed toward the patio.
A few steps before I reached them, I heard my husband’s voice and stopped.
“I actually want to leave her,” he told his friends.
At first, I didn’t even realize he was talking about me.
“She hasn’t accomplished anything in fifty years. She couldn’t even learn English properly. Sometimes I can barely stand looking at her. Her body is sagging, she’s covered in wrinkles, and she never exercises. Why would I want a loser like that beside me?”
His friends said something in response, but I could barely hear them anymore.
I stood behind the wall with our five-month-old son against my chest and thought about the last thirty-two years of my life.
