He Wanted Kids, She Lied for 8 Years, Now Their Marriage Might Be Done

A Redditor thought he was living a painful love story, then he found out he was living a lie.

For eight years, he played the steady partner. He stepped up as a dad to his wife’s child. He did the marriage thing, the house thing, the “let’s build our future” thing.

And the future he wanted had one big detail.
He wanted a biological child.

His wife said she wanted that too. They tried. They tested. They mourned the idea that it might never happen.

Then, in the middle of an argument in their own home, his sister-in-law dropped a sentence that detonated the whole marriage.

Suddenly “infertility” looked a lot like “secret birth control.”
And “we can’t” sounded a lot like “I won’t.”

Now he’s sitting at his parents’ house, getting messages from the kid who calls him Dad, while his wife begs for another chance. And Reddit, of course, has opinions.

Now, read the full story:

This one hits like a slammed door in a quiet house. Because it’s not only about having kids. It’s about watching your partner grieve something you secretly took off the table.

And the detail that really stings is the “we did tests” part. That takes planning. That takes commitment to the lie.

No one gets to dictate what anyone does with their body. At the same time, marriage runs on consent and truth.

When someone edits reality for years, the relationship starts living in a fake timeline. And climbing out of that takes more than a tearful apology.

That’s where the real question lives, can trust survive when the truth shows up this late?

Let’s name what’s happening here, because the labels matter. OP isn’t saying, “My wife owes me a baby.” OP is saying, “My wife sold me a shared plan, then secretly dismantled it.”

That difference changes everything.

Lots of couples break up over kids. That doesn’t make anyone evil. People change. Fear shows up. Bodies complicate plans.

But this story sits in a different category, reproductive deception inside a committed relationship.

When one partner hides contraception, misrepresents fertility, or pretends to try while quietly preventing pregnancy, the other partner loses informed consent about the life they are building.

A clinical research paper on “birth control sabotage” describes it as direct interference with contraception, including destroying oral contraceptives.

OP’s wife allegedly did the reverse, she used contraception secretly, while presenting a narrative of infertility.

That’s not a quirky secret. That’s a structural lie. Now add the emotional layer. OP describes a long grief period, followed by “coming to terms” with no biological kids.

Grief needs truth to move forward. If grief grows on top of a lie, it doesn’t resolve cleanly. It turns into anger, shame, and a feeling of being played.

A Psychology Today therapist framed relationship recovery bluntly, healing a relationship after betrayal begins and ends with restoring trust.

That matters here because the betrayal isn’t a one-night mistake. It’s a pattern that lasted years.

So what would “restoring trust” even look like?

First, clarity beats chaos. Right now, the story has gaps.

Did she say “infertile,” or did she say “we can’t”? Did she take birth control the whole marriage, or for a period? Did she tell OP she wanted kids while knowing she didn’t?

OP can’t rebuild anything until he knows what he’s rebuilding from.

Second, accountability needs specifics. A general apology feels nice, then collapses the moment OP remembers, “You watched me mourn.”

A real repair attempt usually includes full disclosure, acceptance of harm, and a plan to prevent repeats.

Healthline’s trust guidance keeps it simple, talk openly, understand what happened, and then trust only returns through consistent behavior over time.

Third, watch for coercion patterns, because they can go both directions.

Planned Parenthood describes “sexual and reproductive coercion” as pressuring someone about pregnancy decisions or messing with birth control to cause a pregnancy.

This case doesn’t match that exact direction. Still, it sits in the same neighborhood, one person quietly controls reproduction, the other person loses agency. And when a couple tolerates that once, the next “big decision” can turn into another secret.

Fourth, protect the kid in the middle. Kaya texting OP to come back makes sense. Kids crave stability. Kids also turn into messengers in adult wars. If OP divorces, he can still show up as a stable adult for Kaya in appropriate ways, depending on legal and family boundaries.

Finally, OP should stop bargaining with a fantasy.

The line “I could have now have my baby in my arms” reads like a punch of grief. It also risks turning the conversation into an impossible undo button.

No one can re-run time. OP can only decide what he needs to trust a partner again, or decide he can’t.

Both outcomes can be sane.

The hard truth is this, the marriage OP thought he had ended the moment the lie started. Now OP has to decide whether he wants to build a new one with the same person.

Check out how the community responded:

Most commenters went straight to “deal-breaker,” calling it a years-long deception, not a slip-up. They basically said, “This wasn’t a mistake, it was a lifestyle.”

A second group sounded pro-choice but still furious, because “your body” doesn’t magically equal “your right to run a long con.”

Then some commenters zoomed out and went, “If she lied about this, what else got edited?” The suspicion level hit maximum.

This story has the kind of betrayal that doesn’t fade after a good cry and a big promise.

Because the lie didn’t only hide information. It shaped OP’s choices for years.

It shaped the home they bought. It shaped the role he took on as a stepdad. It shaped his grief, his hopes, and his idea of what marriage meant.

Maybe Natalie panicked. Maybe she feared losing him. Maybe she convinced herself she would “fix it later.”

People do that. They build a dam out of avoidance, then act shocked when the water breaks through the wall.

OP can forgive if he wants. He can also divorce and still care about Kaya. Both choices can hold compassion.

The real question is whether OP can ever trust Natalie’s “yes” again, when her “yes” once meant “no” behind his back.

What would you do if your partner hid a life-changing truth for years? Would you try to rebuild, or would you walk away and protect your future?