My husband forgot how to parent after having our third kid.

My husband and I had always been in sync. We’d always parented our two daughters the same, and we were on the same page when it came to our sons. At least, we thought we were. Things changed after our second daughter died when she was only a few months old. It was a fluke, and neither of us had ever seen it coming. It just happened out of nowhere, and everything happened so quickly that there was nothing we could do. My husband and I were both devastated. We’d always been so in tune, but after she passed away it felt like there was a giant chasm between us. He didn’t even want to hold her after she passed, and the first few days after she died he didn’t even come into our room. Our other two daughters were devastated as well. Our eldest was only two at the time, and our youngest was only six months old. They’d always shared a room with their sister, and she’d always been there for them. My husband and I didn’t sleep much after she passed away. Neither did the girls. My husband would get up and go to work, and I’d stay up all night with our daughters. They missed their sister terribly, and they missed their father. When our youngest son was born a year later, we were both surprised. We hadn’t used a condom, but my husband told me he didn’t think I was pregnant. We’d been together for six years, and our oldest was already two, so we thought it was impossible. My husband was overjoyed to have another son, and he was excited to have another little boy to raise. When our son was born, we named him Jack. My husband was a wonderful father to Jack. He’d bath him and dress him in the morning, and put him to bed at night. My husband would always give Jack a bath and then sing to him before putting him to bed. When I had to go back to work after Jack was born, I was happy to know he was in good hands. My husband was a wonderful father, and I trusted him completely. He’d always been there for our daughters, and I knew he’d be there for Jack too. One day, I was getting our daughters ready for school when my husband and Jack went out to get groceries. My husband was quiet as he loaded Jack in the car, and I didn’t think anything of it. He was gone for several hours, and I got worried when he didn’t call or text to let me know he was okay. I called his mom to see if he was there, but she told me she hadn’t seen him. I called Jack’s babysitter to see if she’d seen him, and she told me she hadn’t. She also told me she hadn’t been able to get in touch with him for several hours. I panicked when I realized my husband was missing, and I called the police. The police called me a few hours later to say they’d found my husband. He was in a bar several towns over, and he’d been there for several hours. I was livid when I found out. I called my husband and screamed at him, but he was quiet. “Are you okay?” I asked him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” I was taken aback. “You scared me?” I asked him. “You just disappeared for hours. Where were you?” “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m sorry.” I was still upset when I got home from work that night. I was in the kitchen making dinner when my husband came home. Jack was still asleep, and our daughters were at their friend’s house. My husband came into the kitchen and started opening cupboards. “Where’s Jack’s baby food?” he asked me. “I don’t know,” I said. “I haven’t had to buy baby food in a long time.” My husband went into Jack’s room and called for him. When there was no answer, he went to check on him. I heard him slam his fist into the wall after he saw Jack. I went into Jack’s room to see what was wrong, but my husband told me to stay out. “Go into the kitchen,” he told me. I obeyed, but I could still hear everything going on in Jack’s room. I heard Jack crying, and my husband screaming at him. “Do you know who I am?” he screamed. “Yes,” Jack said. “You don’t remember me?” my husband asked. “You don’t remember what I look like?” “No,” Jack said. “I don’t remember.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “What’s wrong with you?” my husband screamed. “Do you remember anything at all?” “No,” Jack said. “I don’t remember anything.” My husband went into the kitchen and slammed his fist into the table. I jumped back to get out of the way, and he threw his head back and screamed at the ceiling. “Do you know what the fuck you’ve done?” he screamed. I was scared for him, but I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what was wrong with him. “Are you okay?” I asked. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” I tried to comfort him, but he pushed me away. “I don’t want you to touch me,” he said. “I’m sick or something.” I was worried about him, but I was also worried about Jack. I asked if he’d eaten, and he said he’d order pizza. I didn’t want Jack to have pizza, so I said he had to eat what I made. My husband told me he didn’t want me to cook, and I said he’d have to eat it too. “I’m not going to eat anything you’ve made,” he said. “I’m sick.” I told him I didn’t care, and he threw a glass across the room. It shattered on the wall and I jumped back. “I’m not going to eat anything you’ve made,” he said. “I don’t want you to touch me.” “I’m not sick,” I said. “And neither is our son.” My husband looked at me in shock, and I could tell he’d forgotten about our son. “Jack is my son,” he said. “Yes, he is,” I said. “Our youngest son.” My husband looked around the room as if he was trying to remember something. “Who are you?” he asked me. I was floored. “Don’t you remember me?” I asked. “I don’t know who you are,” he said. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I told him to get out and go to a hotel. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll go.” He went to the hotel and stayed there for two days. I went to see him on the second day. “Do you remember anything now?” I asked him. “Yes,” he said. “I remember everything.” I was relieved. “Good,” I said. “Let’s go home.” But he didn’t want to go home. “Don’t you remember who I am?” he asked me. “Yes,” I said. “I remember who you are.” “I’m your husband,” he said. “Yes,” I said. “I remember that too.” “I don’t think so,” he said. “I think I’m your boyfriend.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I told him I had to go home. “I don’t want you to go,” he said. “I think you might be my sister or something.” “Goodbye,” I said. I went home and told our daughters what my husband had said. They were shocked, and they both asked if we should divorce him. “I don’t know,” I said. Our oldest said she didn’t think he should be our husband anymore. “He’s our father,” I said. “He’s not our father either,” our oldest said. “I don’t think he should be our father or our husband.” I didn’t know what to say. I went back to work the next day and left our daughters with a babysitter. I went home after work and found my husband there. “Goodbye,” he said. “Goodbye,” I replied. I couldn’t believe what had happened. I thought about going to a therapist to see if he could remember, but I didn’t know if it would help. My husband and I were at an impasse. I didn’t know what to do, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I went to bed that night with tears in my eyes, and I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t believe what had happened, and I couldn’t think of a way to fix it. I thought about my two daughters, and I knew I couldn’t let him raise them anymore. He’d never been able to raise two children, and now I didn’t even know if he could raise one. I thought about my son, and I knew I couldn’t let him raise him either. He’d never been able to take care of our daughters, and now I didn’t know if he could even take care of himself. I knew I couldn’t let him raise any more children. I couldn’t let him be our daughters’ father anymore, and I couldn’t let him be our son’s father either. I knew it was going to be difficult, and I knew it was going to be painful, but I had to let him go. I couldn’t let him raise our children anymore, and I couldn’t let him be our husband either. He didn’t remember us, and he didn’t remember our children. He didn’t even remember who he was. I knew it was going to be difficult, but I had to let him go. I couldn’t let him raise any more children, and I couldn’t let

My husband forgot how to parent after having our third kid.

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