Joanne, 34, shares her true life story:
With three weeks to go in my pregnancy, I was huge, fed up and uncomfortable.
My partner Jay and I had booked a weekend away at a family friend’s caravan – a babymoon before the bub arrived.
I knew I wasn’t going to be much fun to be around so I had an idea.
“Why don’t you come with us?” I suggested to my best friend, Emma.
We’d been friends for more than 10 years.
We spoke every day and Jay got on well with her too.
“I can’t come with you two!” she said, laughing.
“It’s hardly going to be a romantic break,” I replied. “I feel like a beached whale.”
“Okay then, just for you,” she agreed.
That’s what I loved about Emma – she was a great friend.
Jay and I had been together for two-and-a-half years and had been thrilled when we found out I was expecting.
The weekend was lovely, but as expected, both nights I collapsed in bed early.
The next few weeks were tiring, but in my whole life I’d never been happier.
I couldn’t wait to be a mum, and knew Jay would be an awesome father.
Finally I went into labour and our beautiful baby girl was born.
Jay cradled her, his eyes glazed with love.
“Let’s call her Maddison,” he suggested.
I was woozy from pain medication and agreed.
As soon as we got home, Emma visited.
“I can’t wait to be your friend too,” she told our baby girl.
Me and Jay in happier times.
Jay doted on Maddison and posted on Facebook how proud he was of me.
But he didn’t always show it.
At times he was distant and less affectionate.
I figured he was probably as tired as I was.
Days after the birth, he went for an induction course for his job at a building company.
I tried to contact him during the day but he didn’t reply.
Then I got a message from him saying he was drunk and going to sleep it off at a hotel.
I was furious.
The next morning, a friend called to say she had sat behind Jay on the train the night before.
“Look, I thought you should know he was talking on his phone to someone about how they were going to meet up.”
She hesitated before continuing.
“It was a woman, Jo, I’m sorry.”
I told her she’d probably got the wrong end of the stick.
I told Jay when he returned.
“That’s ridiculous,” he said. “I slept it off in a hotel.”
I felt unsettled. I trusted him, but it sounded highly suspicious.
A few days later, Jay came home grinning.
“Look,” he said, lifting up his top.
There in huge letters freshly tattooed across his chest was Maddison’s name.
I didn’t know what to say.
It was a touching gesture but I’d been meaning to talk to him about our girl’s name.
I didn’t like it.
But now he’d had it tattooed, I could hardly change it!
“Er… lovely,” I said weakly.
That weekend, I suggested we go out somewhere as a family, but Jay said he was too tired and wanted to watch the footy.
It escalated into a fight and I left the house in tears, heading straight for Emma’s around the corner.
“What’s wrong?” she gasped when she saw what a state I was in.
Jay had no explanation for what he had done.
I started telling her what had happened and she started crying too.
“I’m going to tell you something you’re not going to like,” she stammered, wiping away a tear.
“I’m an absolute cow, I hate myself.”
What was she on about?
She took a deep breath.
“We should have told you, I know, and I’m really sorry, but… well, me and Jay. The thing is, I love him.”
My world stopped. I could barely breathe.
She didn’t meet my eye.
“… and he loves me,” she continued. “We’re going to be together.”
I was too shocked to speak.
My best friend and the father of my newborn baby, the two people who meant the world to me, had betrayed me in the most awful way imaginable.
I screamed and shouted at her, but I was crying too hard to make much sense so I stormed off.
When I got home, Jay was sitting holding Maddison.
I took her off him.
“How could you?” I demanded.
He just shrugged and went to pack up his stuff.
Me with Ava now – we’re so much happier!
My family rallied around me and I found out who my true friends were.
Not long after, I realised we were due to register Maddison’s birth.
I looked at my precious baby girl and something hit me.
“You’re not Maddison,” I whispered to her. “Your name’s Ava.”
I went to the registry office alone and the woman asked me for her name.
“Ava Jo Taylor,” I said.
That night, I posted on Facebook about the name change.
It didn’t take long for my phone to ring.
“What have you done?” Jay shouted. “I’ve got Maddison tattooed on my chest!”
For the first time since he’d broken my heart, I smiled. I couldn’t help it.
Now he had a reminder of what his cheating had done.
Emma later confessed that they’d had sex in the caravan while I was pregnant and also on the night Ava was born.
Jay got a tattoo across his chest.
It hurt so much to hear.
But since he’s gone, my confidence has soared.
Jay and Emma deserve each other.
As for me and Ava, we’re just fine.
I can’t wait for the day when she’s old enough to ask her dad about the name on his chest.
