While Pregnant, I Attended a Pottery Party That Turned into a Surreal Nightmare

I’m pregnant with baby number two, and I thought the emotional rollercoaster people warned me about was just an old superstition. Turns out, it wasn’t the pregnancy stirring emotions—it was my husband.

For most of this pregnancy, I just wanted to stay in my blanket cocoon, binge-watch TV, and snack. But my best friend, Ava, insisted I get out. She dragged me to a pottery class, and that’s when things went sideways.

While painting, a woman at the class told a story about her boyfriend, Malcolm, who had left her on the 4th of July to be with his family when his sister-in-law went into labor. She mentioned the baby’s name—Tess. That’s when my world tilted. Tess was my daughter’s name.

I had to ask, “Wait, your boyfriend’s name is Malcolm?” The woman confirmed it. Then I showed her a photo of Malcolm with me and Tess. She realized Malcolm was her son’s father too. He’d been cheating on me the whole time.

I confronted Malcolm, and he admitted to everything. Our marriage was shattered, and now I’m navigating divorce, focusing on creating a better life for my kids.

Ava helped me to the car, and I said, “I’m done with him.” And I meant it.