My Husband Asked For Paternity Test after I Gave Birth – He Was ‘Shocked’ When He Read the Results

When I gave birth to our daughter, Sarah, five weeks ago, I thought it would be one of the most joyous days of my life. After all, my husband, Alex, and I had spent two years of marriage dreaming of this moment. But everything changed the second I saw the look on his face…

As he stared at our baby girl’s pale blue eyes and blonde hair, he asked, hesitantly, “You’re… sure?”

I looked up from cradling our tiny newborn, confused. “Sure about what?”

“You know, that she’s… mine.”

He glanced away, avoiding my gaze, and my stomach dropped. The tension in the room thickened as I processed what he’d just implied.

“She doesn’t look anything like us,” he continued quietly, his eyes darting between Sarah and me, his tone almost accusing as he pointed to his and my brown hair and eyes.

“Alex, babies can have lighter hair and eyes at birth,” I explained, trying to keep my voice calm even though my heart pounded. “It doesn’t mean anything. Her features will probably change over time.”

But he didn’t look convinced. He just kept staring at Sarah with suspicion, his hand drifting to his face as he rubbed his temple.

“I… I don’t know, Jennifer. I need to be sure. I need a paternity test,” he said finally.

The words felt like a slap. I searched his face for some sign of the man I’d married, the one who used to say he trusted me completely. But here he was, casting doubt on our daughter’s lineage at a time that was supposed to be filled with joy.

I felt my pulse quicken, and my hands tightened around Sarah protectively. “You can’t be serious, Alex.”

He didn’t waver. “I am. I need this test. And if you don’t agree, I don’t think we can go forward.”

The ultimatum hung heavy in the air, filling the room with a suffocating silence. For a moment, I wanted to scream, to demand why he’d choose now to question my loyalty, why he’d take our newborn’s first days and turn them into a nightmare.

But instead, I just nodded, too stunned to argue. “Fine, Alex. Do what you have to do.”

Once we returned from the hospital, my husband said he needed “space” and went to stay at his parents’ house while we waited for the test results.

His departure left me feeling more alone than ever, trapped in a whirlwind of sleepless nights, dirty diapers, and endless thoughts about his words. My sister, Emily, came to my side every day, helping me care for Sarah while I recovered from childbirth.

She could see the toll Alex’s absence was taking on me, and she was furious.

“I can’t believe he’s doing this,” she fumed one evening as she rocked Sarah to sleep. “He should be here with you, not hiding out at his parents’ house.”

I sighed, feeling the weight of exhaustion press down on me.

“I don’t know what happened. It’s like he’s a different person, Em. I didn’t even recognize him at the hospital.”

She put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, and I let out a shaky breath. Emily had always been my rock, but even she couldn’t fix the damage Alex’s accusations were doing to my heart.

As if his suspicion wasn’t enough, his mom called a week after he left.

I hoped she was calling to check on me or the baby, maybe even offer some support. But as soon as I picked up, her words cut through me like a knife.

“Jennifer,” she said curtly, “I’ve heard about this paternity test. Let me be clear, if that test says that baby isn’t Alex’s, I’ll make sure you’re left with nothing! I’ll do whatever it takes to see you taken to the cleaners!”

I gripped the phone, stunned by her hostility. “Mrs. Johnson, you can’t be serious. Sarah is Alex’s daughter, and I’d never do anything to hurt him,” I managed to say, though my voice shook.

“Spare me the explanations,” she snapped. “We’ll see what the test says. Until then, don’t think you’ll get anything from our family if you’ve been lying!”

Then she hung up, leaving me numb with shock. I’d always thought we had a good relationship and that she respected me. But now, it felt like I was suddenly the enemy, fighting for the right to stay in my own family.

I called Emily right after, barely able to hold back tears as I told her about the conversation.

“She’s already making threats about lawyers and money,” I said, my voice cracking. “She thinks I cheated, Em.”

Emily’s jaw tightened. “That’s unbelievable. You’ve done nothing wrong, Jenn. Let them do the test. When it proves Sarah’s Alex’s daughter, they’ll have to eat their words.”

But I wasn’t so sure. Even if the test cleared things up, could Alex and I ever go back to the way things were?

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was only a couple of weeks, my husband called.

“The results are in,” he said, his voice lacking any warmth after we received the paternity results yesterday. He came by that evening to read them together, his face set with a mix of determination and something close to fear.

We sat down in the living room, and I could feel my heartbeat in my throat as he opened the envelope. He scanned the paper in silence, and I watched his expression shift from tense to wide-eyed with shock. His jaw dropped, and he just stared at them as he processed what they said in disbelief…

“I told you so,” I said, a surge of anger bubbling up after weeks of feeling betrayed. I let out a bitter laugh, unable to keep it contained. After everything he’d put me through, after all the hurtful accusations, he’d gotten the answer he’d demanded, and it was exactly what I’d said all along!

My husband’s face turned red. He crumpled the paper in his hands and shot me a furious look.

“You think this is funny, Jennifer?” he snapped, his voice rising. “This was hard for me, too!”

“Hard for you?” I replied, unable to keep my own voice down.

“Alex, I’ve been alone with our newborn daughter, recovering from childbirth, while you accused me of cheating. You left me here to deal with everything on my own, and your mother’s threats—”

“What threats?” he interrupted, his anger giving way to confusion.

I took a steadying breath, gathering the strength to explain.

“She called me and said she’d make sure I’d get ‘taken to the cleaners’ if Sarah wasn’t yours. She made it clear that I wasn’t welcome in this family if the test came back differently.”

Alex’s face fell, and I could see the realization dawning on him. He looked down at the crumpled paper, then back at me.

“I didn’t know. I didn’t… I didn’t realize it had gotten that far.”

A few seconds passed in silence before Emily, who had been upstairs with Sarah, came down. She looked at both of us, her gaze finally settling on Alex.

“Maybe you should leave,” she said, her tone ice-cold.

Without another word, he got up, still clutching the paper, and left. The door clicked shut behind him, and I sank into the couch, feeling the tension drain out of me. Emily sat beside me, pulling me into a hug.

“You did nothing wrong, Jenn,” she whispered. “He has to earn back your trust now if that’s even what you want.”

Two to three hours after he went back to his parents’ house to “clear his head,” my mother-in-law (MIL) called. This time she scolded me for laughing in my husband’s face because it was the same as “kicking him while he was down.”

This morning, she also left some mean texts saying the same thing. After that, the next few days were quiet, and I focused on Sarah, cherishing her little giggles and coos and trying to push the memory of my husband’s accusations from my mind.

But his absence gnawed at me, and a part of me wanted closure, even if it meant another difficult conversation. Three days later, he showed up at our door, looking disheveled and remorseful. I let him in, and we sat down in the same place we had when we’d read the test results.

He looked at Sarah, who was sleeping peacefully in my arms, and his eyes softened.

“Jenn,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “I’m so sorry. I let my insecurities ruin everything.”

I looked at him, my face hard.

“Alex, you didn’t just doubt me; you humiliated me. You left me alone, you accused me of cheating, and you let your mother threaten me. I don’t know if things can ever go back to the way they were.”

He nodded, swallowing hard.

“I understand that. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, but please, give me a chance to prove myself again. For Sarah’s sake, for us.”

I studied him for a moment, seeing the regret in his eyes. Part of me wanted to shut the door on him forever, to shield myself from any future hurt. But another part, the part that still remembered the love we’d built over two years, wanted to give him a chance to make amends.

I took a deep breath, letting my anger and hurt slip away, if only for a moment.

“I don’t know how to trust you right now, Alex. But for Sarah’s sake, I’ll try,” I said finally.

He reached for my hand, his grip gentle but filled with resolve.

“Thank you, Jenn. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. I love you both more than anything.”

For the first time in weeks, I allowed myself to feel a small flicker of hope, unsure where we’d go from here but ready to face it one step at a time.

But as the days went by, one day I started processing the fact that my husband seemed disappointed that I hadn’t cheated on him. Contemplating that he might be the one being unfaithful, I decided to cover my basis.

That night while he snored happily while sleeping, I took and unlocked his phone and found something I hadn’t expected. There were messages between him and a female colleague.

In the texts, he claimed he’d leave me for her soon and I knew there was no going back for us. I took screenshots of the messages and that morning while Alex went to work, I called a lawyer and filed for divorce.

By the time he got home that evening, I was long gone. I stayed with Emily while the divorce proceedings happened and of course, Alex tried denying the infidelity but I had proof. In the settlement, I received the house, our car, and significant child support.