Pregnancy changed everything—not just for me, but for how I saw my husband, Marcus. He had always been sweet and caring, but when we found out I was expecting, his excitement wasn’t quite what I had imagined.

At first, everything seemed wonderful. We prepared for the baby, made our first home together, and got ready for this huge life change. But while I spent hours Googling every little thing about pregnancy and our baby, Marcus was... well, raiding dungeons in his favorite video game.

Marcus is a gamer. He always has been. I didn’t mind it at first—gaming was his way of unwinding after long days of working as a project manager at a construction company. I just didn’t realize how deeply it would become ingrained in our lives during my pregnancy.

"Babe, feel this!" I’d call out at 2 a.m. when our baby started k!cking up a storm.

"Coming!" he'd say, pausing his game and rushing over to place his hand on my belly. "That's our little ninja," he’d whisper with a soft smile.

For the most part, Marcus was sweet and attentive. He came to every appointment, helped with snacks in the middle of the night, and even downloaded a contraction timer app. But when the reality of labor h!t, I started to wonder if he would treat the birth of our child like another "quest" or if he would truly rise to the occasion.

His parents were especially excited about the baby. His mom, Martha, called every week, sent tiny onesies, and asked if Marcus was being helpful. But I always got the feeling they were also quietly hoping their son would step up when it really mattered.

"He's always been in his own world," Martha once confided, referring to Marcus. "Even when he was a child. We had to work hard to pull him into reality."

At 38 weeks pregnant, I decided it was time to talk to Marcus. He needed to understand that this was real. And when it happened, I’d need him there—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally.

One night while I was packing my hospital bag, Marcus mentioned that he’d need something to keep himself busy during the "boring" parts of labor. "My cousin’s wife was in labor for 20 hours before anything exciting happened," he explained, as if it was some kind of strategy to get through the day.

"Exciting?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You know what I mean. I don’t want to sit there just staring at you while you’re uncomfortable. That won’t help either of us."

I laughed it off. Maybe a little distraction would help keep him calm, which in turn would help me stay calm. So, I let it go.

The day my water broke at 2 a.m., I was ready. I breathed through the contractions as I waited for Marcus to return. But when he entered the delivery room, I froze.

He wasn’t holding the hospital bag. Instead, he rolled in a small suitcase and a tote bag.

"Hospital bag?" I asked, hoping against hope.

"Nope," he grinned. "Entertainment station."

I could hardly believe what I was seeing. He pulled out a mini portable screen, his Xbox, a controller, a headset, and a couple of bags of chips.

"Marcus!" I gasped between contractions. "What are you doing?"

He set everything up with the casualness of someone who was setting up for a weekend gaming session. "Don’t worry, I won’t be in the way," he assured me, not looking up.

"You're here to support me," I reminded him.

"And I will," he replied absently, focused on connecting cables. "But first babies take a while, remember? My cousin’s wife was in labor for 20 hours!"

I tried to respond but another contraction h!t. I gripped the bedrail, fighting the pain, but Marcus didn’t seem to notice.

"You good?" he asked, glancing over.

"Not really," I gasped.

"Need anything?" he asked, barely glancing at me.

"My husband," I said pointedly.

He nodded but quickly went back to setting up his console. "Once I get this going, I’ll be right there."

And then, to make matters worse, Marcus’s best friend Greg walked in, holding a Slurpee and fast food. "Hey, man," Greg said cheerfully. "She’s only 3 cm, right? We’ve got time."

"What is he doing here?" I asked, barely able to hide my frustration.

"Moral support," Marcus replied, taking the food from Greg and not even glancing up from his game. "For both of us."

Renee, the nurse, stepped in and firmly said, "Sir, you can't be here unless you're the partner or the patient."

Marcus didn't even blink. "She's fine. It'll be hours. We’re just chilling in the corner."

Greg, at least, had some decency to look awkward. "Maybe I should come back later?"

"Nah, man," Marcus said, handing him a controller. "We’ve got time."

Renee crossed her arms, obviously losing patience. "Actually, I need to check her progress and set up her monitors. Everyone who’s not directly supporting the mother needs to leave."

Greg hesitated. Marcus didn’t even look up.

"One sec," he muttered. "Just let me save this."

And then, the universe stepped in. Marcus’s parents, Martha and Robin, showed up and caught the entire scene.

Martha’s eyes swept over the Xbox, the headset, and then to me. Her gaze snapped back to Marcus, who was still focused on his game.

She didn’t yell. She didn’t raise her voice at all. She simply said, "Marcus. Outside. Now."

His face went pale as Greg hurried out.

"Mom? Dad?" Marcus stammered. "What are you—"

"Outside," Martha repeated, her voice quiet but firm.

The next few minutes were a blur. Marcus stepped outside with his parents for a closed-door conversation. I could hear Martha’s voice, calm but intense, through the door. Renee offered a sympathetic smile as she checked my vitals.

When Marcus returned, he looked completely different. His parents followed behind, and Robin picked up the Xbox and other equipment.

"I’ll put this in the car," Robin said, not even looking at his son.

Marcus unplugged everything and came to my side. "I’m so sorry, Amy. I get it now. I’m here."

Martha sat down beside me, gently wiping my forehead with a washcloth. "We’ll take care of you both," she promised.

For the rest of the labor, Marcus was by my side—no distractions, no complaints, just support, ice chips, and whispered encouragement. He held my hand through every contraction, even when things got really tough.

When Lily was finally born that evening after 16 hours of labor, Marcus was there, fully present.

A few days later, when we brought our daughter home, Marcus’s parents stayed a little longer. I suspect they stayed to make sure their son kept up his role as an adult, which he did.

That first night when Lily cried at 3 a.m., it was Marcus who got up and walked her around the living room, singing her lullabies until she settled.

Sometimes, it takes a wake-up call to understand what really matters. My husband wasn’t a bad person. He just hadn’t fully understood what it meant to become a parent.

That day in the delivery room could have torn us apart, but instead, it brought us closer. Martha and Robin’s intervention wasn’t just good timing; it was the universe sending my husband exactly what he needed to grow up and rise to the occasion.