My Ex’s Mom Threw Him a Baby Shower — I Wasn’t Invited

In case you were wondering, yes, I was pregnant with his child

Trigger warning: this story contains references to physical and emotional abuse.

My boyfriend was acting weird.

“I’ve got plans today. I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said, heading toward the door.

“Cool. Where are you going?” I asked.

He ignored me, so I repeated my question.

“God, Mari. Why are you always so nosy?” my boyfriend asked, annoyed.

I shrugged. “I was just curious, but whatever. Have fun.”

My boyfriend rolled his eyes and slammed the door. I watched as he headed across the parking lot, then called my best friend to vent.

“Something is wrong. Chaz is acting shady,” I complained.

My BFF listened attentively, then announced that Chaz was probably cheating on me.

“JESS!” I screeched. “Stop!”

She laughed. “Well, you know how I feel about Chaz. He’s obsessed with his crazy mother, and it’s not normal. Something is wrong with both of them. Maybe he’s just planning a surprise celebration for you, though. The baby is due soon.”

“I doubt it, but okay.” Chaz wasn’t exactly the thoughtful type. I couldn’t picture him planning anything for me, especially not a baby shower like Jess was hinting.

“Well Mari, all I’m saying is that you may want to shower and put on something cute if you haven’t already. You might have unexpected plans later.”

Assuming Jess knew something I didn’t, I hung up the phone and began getting ready. Our child — Chaz’s first, my second — was due next month, and my friends had held off on throwing me a baby shower. They were under the impression that Chaz and his mother were planning a celebration, so they didn’t want to step on any toes. Chaz’s mother, Lydia, already hated me enough.

I finished drying my hair, then curled up on the couch to wait. For what, I wasn’t sure.

The minutes ticked by, and the sky grew darker. Jess was wrong. There was no surprise.

I headed to my bedroom to change back into my yoga pants when I heard the phone ding.

“Where areeee youuuuuu?!” the text said.

“Huh?” I replied, sending Kaci my response.

“The baby shower! Why aren’t you here yet? I’ve been here like an hour and they already started without you.”

I threw my phone at the couch and screamed. Kaci didn’t know what was going on, but I did. My ex’s mom had thrown him a baby shower and made sure I wasn’t invited.

My suspicions were confirmed when Chaz returned with overflowing gift bags stuffed with onesies and blankets.

“Look what I got!” he exclaimed happily.

I glared at him. “Where’d you get all this stuff?”

Chaz paused, then replied, “Mom gave it to me.”

Arms folded across my chest, I glared at him again. “Who else gave it to you?” I asked.

Chaz froze. “That bitch Chelsea told you, didn’t she?”

Chelsea was Chaz’s sister-in-law, and he wasn’t a fan of her. I’d later learn that Chelsea tried calling me from the baby shower, but Chaz’s family hid her phone. Years later, Chelsea divorced Chaz’s brother and fled the state with her newborn, but that’s a story for another time.

Chaz’s family has a long history of manipulation and abuse.

We fought about the baby shower for weeks. I was hurt that his family had planned a special event behind my back, then pretended I had flaked on attending. When guests asked why I wasn’t there, Chaz’s family failed to mention I was never invited. One guest was told I didn’t show up because I was ungrateful and hated Chaz’s mother.

After the baby shower, most of Chaz’s family blocked me on Facebook. They thought I hated them because I had skipped the baby shower — the shower I knew nothing about. They were also upset that I never thanked them for their gifts. I wasn’t aware these gifts existed.

When Chaz came home with bags from the shower, he didn’t bring everything. I learned this a couple weeks later when Chelsea FaceTimed me.

“I don’t have much time,” she blurted out when I answered, “But I need to show you something before Tanner gets back from the gas station.” Tanner was Chaz’s brother. They were living with Lydia and Hector, the boys’ stepfather, until Tanner could find a new job.

Chelsea ran upstairs, then showed me a decked-out baby room. She opened the closet, which was stuffed with cute outfits, and showed me the full dresser drawers. There were also dozens of toys stuffed in a storage tub.

“What is this?” I asked, confused.

“This is your baby’s room. Chaz and Lydia are planning to take the baby as soon as its born and they think they’re going to raise it here without you. Chaz has already hired a lawyer. Don’t let that baby out of your sight,” Chelsea warned.

I was shocked. Things had been awful between me and Chaz lately, but I thought he was okay with that. Whenever I suggested separating, Chaz repeatedly reassured me that he had no plans of ending the relationship. In fact, we had an appointment for couples counseling soon.

Love makes you stupid sometimes.

Chelsea’s words echoed in my head for hours, and I needed confirmation of her claims. I obviously couldn’t ask Chaz because he’d just deny everything, which meant I had to find proof on my own.

I started by logging into our shared phone plan and checking Chaz’s recent calls. There were several unfamiliar numbers, including one he had talked to for hours. I Googled it.

Fathers’ Rights Attorney, the headline blared above an angry-looking woman’s photo. Shit. Chelsea was right.

Sobbing, I pulled out Chaz’s laptop. He had given me the password months ago, so there probably wasn’t anything incriminating on it. It didn’t hurt to check, though.

I waited for Windows to load, wiping my eyes on my shirt to get rid of the tears. There was no time to cry. I had to figure out what was happening.

The screen finally loaded, and I gasped. Chaz had multiple folders on his desktop, several of which included my name. Clicking through the folders, I found hundreds of photos of me, screenshots of text messages, and information he had given his lawyer.

Chaz wasn’t just planning to leave me and take our baby. He had a detailed plan, one that had been working on for months. Much to my surprise, that plan was also included in his notes.

Some distant relatives were planning a visit to our area shortly after our son’s birth. The trip was unrelated to our son, but Chaz was going to pretend it was and take our baby to see them. After that, he was going to keep our baby at his parents’ house and withhold him from me until our court date for custody.

I was horrified. Why had I started a family with this monster? Things weren’t perfect between us, but I always had faith they’d get better — mainly because Chaz promised they would. I was shocked that he had secretly planned an escape route while gaslighting me into thinking our relationship was salvageable.

Chaz wasn’t going to get away with this.

As my due date approached, Chaz’s behavior got worse and worse. I tried ignoring his actions while I planned my escape, but eventually, I couldn’t hold in my feelings any longer. When I asked why he was treating me so badly, Chaz insisted he was just nervous.

“You already have a kid, but I’m a first-time dad. I’m just scared. Everything will be okay!”

“Chaz, you just threw a case of water at me and I’m 9 months pregnant. This isn’t okay! What if I had gotten hurt?”

Chaz stared at me for a moment, then answered, “That’s your problem. You’re the one who wanted this baby. My mom says I’m too young for this.”

“You’re 25 years old. I was a teen mom. Don’t talk to me about being too young to be a parent.”

Chaz slammed the door, knocking several pictures off the wall. “Yeah, you turned out great!” he screamed, storming off toward his car.

I needed to speed up my escape plan. This wasn’t a safe situation for me or my kids, and it was time to go. Chaz often hid our shared vehicle so I couldn’t use it, but that didn’t matter. I was a writer. I could make money from anywhere.

When Chaz left for work, I pounded away at my keyboard, frantically racking up money for my escape. I sent the earnings to my best friend’s PayPal account so Chaz didn’t catch me. We’d sort it out at tax time, and by then, I’d be long gone.

In the meantime, I needed to pretend everything was fine so Chaz didn’t get suspicious. If he could play games, so could I.

As expected, Chaz came home and kissed me on the cheek like nothing had happened. That was fine. I wasn’t in the mood to fight anymore.

“We should go to The Avenue,” Chaz randomly stated, referencing the popular street downtown.

“Sure, sounds fun!” I cheerfully replied, wondering what he was up to. We hadn’t gone on a date in months. I headed to the bathroom to get ready, and then we left.

Chaz blasted his favorite songs so we didn’t have to talk during the drive. We parked, then he took my arm. The parking lot was slippery, and I could barely walk. We wandered along The Avenue in silence for a bit, then Chaz blurted out something odd.

“I know exactly how I’d kill you if it ever came down to that.”

Shocked, I stared at Chaz and waited for him to finish his bizarre story.

Chaz continued, “I’d make sure you were on your knees looking in my eyes.”

He then proceeded to tell me, in graphic detail, exactly how he’d execute my demise. I laughed nervously, and we headed to dinner.

That was the last night we spent together. I didn’t sleep, but he snored peacefully through the night.

I brought up the creepy conversation the next day when Chaz was home grabbing food for his lunch break. I desperately wanted him to say that he didn’t mean yesterday’s crazy threats, but I knew I needed to leave him either way.

Chaz laughed hysterically, then threatened my life again — this time, with a significantly more graphic ending. It was terrifying, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of upsetting me. I acted like everything was fine and kissed him goodbye, then headed to the bedroom. I was done living in fear.

I grabbed my laptop, shoved some clothes in a backpack, and told my daughter’s school that Grandma would be picking her up instead of the bus.

With tears in my eyes, I dialed my best friend’s number. “I’m ready,” I whispered, crying. “Please hurry.”