AFTER GIVING BIRTH, MY HORMONES CHANGED – MY AMERICAN HUSBAND ALWAYS COMMENTED: “YOU SMELL SOURRY, GO SLEEP ON THE SOFA IN THE LIVING ROOM.” – BUT THE WAY I RESPONDED MADE HIM HOLD HIS HEAD IN SHAME
I am Samantha, 29 years old, living in Chicago, and just gave birth to my first child three months ago.
Before, I thought I had a perfect marriage with Ryan, my husband – a handsome, elegant marketing manager, and from a wealthy family.
We dated for two years, got married in a luxurious wedding on the shores of Lake Michigan. Everyone said I was a lucky woman.

But no one knew, just a few months after giving birth, my life fell into hell.

After giving birth to Ethan, my body changed completely: I gained more than 20 pounds, my skin became dull, my hair fell out a lot, and my body started to smell strange – partly due to postpartum hormones. I read a lot of medical literature, knowing this was normal, but that didn’t help my embarrassment.

The worst thing was that Ryan didn’t understand – or rather, didn’t want to understand.

One night, while I was breastfeeding Ethan, Ryan came home from work. He plopped down on the chair, frowned and said bluntly:

“Sam, your body smells terrible. I can’t stand it. Tonight, you sleep on the sofa in the living room, I need a clean space.”

I was stunned, my heart felt like it was being squeezed. The man who had sworn to love me now looked at me like I was dirty.

“You just gave birth, your hormones have changed. You shower every day…” – I explained, trembling.
But he brushed it off:
“Don’t make excuses. I’m tired. What kind of wife are you?”

That night, I hugged my child and went to sleep on the sofa. Ethan slept soundly on my chest, while I cried my eyes out.

I wondered, just because I gave birth to his child, did I deserve to be treated like this?

Ryan didn’t stop there. He started avoiding me, using the excuse of “busy work” to leave early and come home late.

I suspected he was having an affair, but I didn’t have the energy to investigate.

One time, during a BBQ party at home, Ryan joked with his colleagues and then said harshly:

“Sam is now like an old maid, and she smells strange. I can’t stand being near her!”

Everyone burst into laughter. I stood there, speechless. I was so humiliated that I just wanted to disappear.

But for the sake of my child, I gritted my teeth and endured.

My mother, Martha, came to visit when she saw me haggard. She listened to the whole story, grabbed my hand and said:

“Don’t argue with him. Don’t use words to respond. Let your actions make him feel ashamed.”

I listened to my mother.

The next day, I went into my room and took the small box – where I kept all the love letters Ryan had written to me before we got married. In it, he wrote:

“Samantha, no matter what happens to you, I will always love you. I will protect you for the rest of my life.”

I photocopied them all and bound them into a small book.

Underneath, I added a letter I wrote myself, recounting the entire process of pregnancy, giving birth to Ethan, and the pain of being humiliated by the person I loved.

I also included a USB – in it was a video I recorded while giving birth, I was in so much pain that I couldn’t breathe but still called Ryan’s name, hoping he would be safe in the delivery room.

I added a short line:

“This is the woman with the ‘sour smell’ that I once swore to love.”

I put it all on the dining table – where he sat every night.

That night, Ryan came home, saw the notepad and the USB. He opened it, read each page, then turned on the video.

When the image of me screaming in labor appeared on the TV screen, Ryan collapsed on the chair, holding his head.

He didn’t say a word, just cried – the first time I’d seen him cry in years.

He turned, knelt down in front of me, and choked:

“You were wrong, Sam. You’re stupid. You don’t know how much I’ve suffered. You’re a jerk.”

I looked at him, calmly said:

“You think I want my body like that? I gave birth to you, to this family.
But you only know how to criticize and humiliate me. If you don’t change, Ethan and I will leave – because I deserve respect.”

Ryan nodded, hugged me, and apologized repeatedly. But I knew the trust was broken, and it would take more than a day or two to mend.

A few days later, my mother took me to see a doctor.
The results showed that my body odor was not just hormonal, but postpartum thyroid disorder – a rare but treatable disease.

I started treatment, and after a month, my body gradually recovered.

But what shocked Ryan the most was not the disease, but when I shared my story on Facebook.

I wrote:

“Women after giving birth are not trash. Don’t let anyone humiliate you, even the person who promised to love you forever.”

The post went viral – more than 200,000 shares, thousands of supportive comments.

Many women tagged their husbands: “Read this. Don’t let your wife suffer like this.”

Ryan read it and was so embarrassed that he had to take a week off work.

From then on, Ryan began to change. He took care of the children, learned to cook, and often helped me with housework.

He no longer talked about body odor, no longer avoided it. He told everyone:

“I used to be a bad person. But my wife taught me gratitude.”

I didn’t forgive right away.

Trust is like a mirror – when it breaks, even if you fix it, the crack remains.

But I know I won, not with words, but by letting him see my shame.

Now, every time I look back at the old video, I don’t cry anymore.

I only see a strong woman – who has learned to stand up for herself and love herself.

Ryan asked me once:

“Do you regret going public?”

I smiled:

“No. Because maybe, if I hadn’t done so, you would never understand the value of a wife and a mother.

In America or anywhere, postpartum women deserve love and respect.

And sometimes, the strongest response is not words – but actions that make people bow their heads in shame for their own indifference.