6
Ryan’s pregnancy was very difficult. For the first three months, he had severe morning sickness and threw up everything he ate.
While he was vomiting violently, I was eating everything with gusto.
Ryan felt this was unfair and asked why his morning sickness was so bad while I seemed
fine.
“I can’t control individual physiology,” I said.
Ryan complained: “I throw up everything I eat, while you can eat anything. But I still have to split food costs with you 50/50. This is too unfair. I suggest we make our own meals
separately.”
I gave him an “OK” hand sign.
The day after he made this suggestion, my family’s chef started delivering meals.
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Every day it was abalone or sea cucumber, piles of lobster, bird’s nest soup for dessert.
While I ate these delicacies, Ryan nibbled on lettuce leaves beside me.
His eyes nearly popped out of his head watching me eat.
By five months, the morning sickness finally passed.
But Ryan’s belly had grown, and he had to take extended leave from work.
No company would allow an employee to take a year off, so they found an excuse to fire
Ryan.
After losing his job, Ryan became even more frugal.
Learning that prenatal check–ups not only increased in frequency after five months, but
also in cost, he canceled all his appointments.
“It’s fine without check–ups. That’s how my mom’s generation got through it.”
“How can that be the same? You’re carrying quadruplets. These exams aren’t just for the
babies, they’re for your own safety too.“”
“As long as I don’t exercise, nothing will go wrong.”
Ryan waved his hand dismissively. “We agreed to each cover our own prenatal costs. Why are you worrying about me so much?”
Since he put it that way, I swallowed whatever else I was going to say.
Carrying quadruplets really is different from a single baby.
By six months, both our bellies were huge.
We couldn’t turn over in bed or bend down to do housework.
From the day I had trouble bending, my housekeeper arrived.
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On days I was supposed to clean, the housekeeper did it for me.
She didn’t do Ryan’s chores.
Ryan envied how I didn’t have to do anything.
He tried to negotiate for the housekeeper to do his chores too.
I spread my hands. “Of course she can help you. My housekeeper costs $400 a day Your just need to pay $200,”
“Money, money, money. Is that all you think about?” Ryan got angry.
“Samantha, I’m pregnant. You eat all this good food in front of me without sharing, and now you won’t even let her help with some chores? Do you really need to be so exact about everything?”
“Of course it’s necessary.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Weren’t you the one who wanted to split the cost of paper? Ryan, don’t forget, you were the one who first suggested splitting everything 50/50. I’m just living
the way you like.”
Ryan looked extremely regretful.
He finally realized how foolish his initial decision to split everything had been.
If he hadn’t insisted on going Dutch, he could be eating abalone and bird’s nest soup now,
living a life of luxury.
No matter how much Ryan complained or said how difficult things were for him, I just
pretended not to hear.
Soon it was the eighth month of pregnancy.
Because we were carrying quadruplets, my mom had booked us spots at a postpartum
care center in advance.
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She casually asked Ryan if he wanted to go too.
When he learned it cost $5000 for a month at the center, Ryan immediately gave up on the idea. He said he’d do postpartum recovery and take care of the babies at home.
I kindly reminded him: “It’s easiest to get sick during postpartum recovery. Can you really handle four babies on your own?”
Ryan was an orphan. His parents had passed away when he was 18.
According to what he’d said before, we’d each take care of two babies.
He had no parents to help, so it would be hard to even rest properly after giving birth.
I was about to try persuading him to reconsider.
Ryan gave me a cold look. “Why don’t you pay for the postpartum center for me then?”
“Who knows if this center made some deal with your mom to rip me off.”
I was speechless with anger.
Then I thought, if Ryan is this harsh on himself for postpartum care, wouldn’t he have
driven a normal woman to death with his 50/50 lifestyle?
Originally the blessing of caring for four babies while recovering was meant for me.
After giving myself this pep talk, I felt even more strongly that Ryan deserved what he
was getting.
If he’d calculated a little less in our marriage, he wouldn’t be suffering like this.
07
