I’m the Mom in That Viral Giants Clip. Let Me Tell You About My Husband - Newsweek

By now, millions of people have watched me with my hands full, carrying my daughter and boxes of food back to my seat at a San Francisco Giants game. They praised me as "mom of the year" for my efforts and called my husband, who had stayed in his seat, too many names to list. Some have sent me DMs or posted commentary videos about why I need to leave him.

My name is Erika, I’m 39, and my husband is Ramses, he’s 41. Our baby is Anastasia. Before you decide what our marriage looks like, I would like you to hear from the woman you’re defending.

Ramses is an amazing husband and an even better father. We’ve been part of each other’s lives for nine years, and today we’re raising two young children together. I know how he treats me, how he cares for our kids, and what he does for our family. A conversation the audience couldn’t hear became the basis for millions of judgments about our life together.

We initially thought the broadcast was funny. Kruk and Kuip are broadcasting legends, and part of their charm is the way they tell stories about people at the ballpark. That night, they noticed me returning with Anastasia in her Ergobaby Carrier, as well as my hands full of food. They joked about Ramses and dubbed me "mom of the year."

Friends and family started calling and texting us immediately. We laughed at the commentary because anyone who knows our family knows how ridiculous it is to suggest that Ramses never helps with our kids. But as the clip spread, people on the internet treated Kruk and Kuip's comments as evidence of our unequal relationship.

Around the fifth inning, I went to use the restroom. Ramses offered to take Anastasia off my hands but I wanted to keep her. San Francisco night games get chilly, and we call her our little "hot pocket" because her body heat keeps you warm. I also figured I could change her diaper while I was up.

While I was away, I texted Ramses a photo of the food menu in the Field Club. I thought I might as well grab something for us.

He said he’d have whatever had the shortest line.

I returned with brisket sandwiches and loaded fries. He moved my jacket to clear my seat, greeted our daughter, and asked whether I wanted to eat first. I told him to go ahead as I had eaten before we left, and I knew he hadn’t had a full meal all day.

He offered to take the containers off my lap, but I told him I was fine holding my food and the nachos we would share later. Keeping them on my lap kept them off the dirty stadium floor. Finally, before even taking a bite himself, he offered to hand feed me and share his sandwich. I told him to enjoy.

When I turned to speak to the woman beside me, I was telling her about our daughter. I wasn’t saying I wanted to smack my husband, as the commentary said. There was no argument about ketchup. He didn’t tell me I forgot anything.

I understand how it looked on television, but we could hear each other. The announcers and audience couldn’t.

There is something else the world doesn’t know.

Recently, Ramses lost one of his oldest friends, a gifted baseball player he had known since they were kids. His death was untimely, and my husband will never admit it, but I know he’s been grieving deeply. There was no formal funeral or memorial service for him to attend. I suggested a Giants game as a way to remember his friend. I wanted Ramses to watch baseball and reflect on his friend’s passing. I would glance over and could tell he was texting his group chat about their lost member throughout the game.

The camera showed what I was carrying in my hands. It couldn’t show what he was carrying that night.

There have been many times when I needed time to myself, and Ramses took care of our children. At bedtime, he puts our son to sleep while I put Anastasia to sleep. We both change diapers, attend medical appointments, read, and play with our kids.

Taking our children to games is something we love doing together. We’ve brought them to Giants' Opening Day and travel yearly to at least one away game with the 49er Faithful (we're a Niner Faithful family). Along the way, other fans have cheered us on and told us what a great team we make. Those moments mean a lot because getting two little children to a game takes cooperation, patience and a sense of humor. That teamwork was there on the night we entered the spotlight too, even if the clip didn’t show it.

Our marriage has room for both of us to need help. That evening, I chose to take care of Ramses. A camera catching me doing something for my husband doesn’t show all the times he has done something for me.

We talk about mothers’ mental health and the importance of supporting women. Those conversations are important, but I also think fathers deserve that same care and consideration.

Six weeks before my daughter was born, my employer of 13 years laid off my entire division. Ramses had just made the down payment on a bigger home, so my unemployment meant he was facing the mortgage payments and managing a remodel on his own, while we prepared to welcome another child.

My employer-provided medical coverage lapsed before my daughter’s birth, leaving me at risk of not having medical insurance for her delivery. Even with those new responsibilities, Ramses made it possible for me to continue seeing the doctors I was comfortable with.

I had complications following Anastasia’s birth that caused postpartum depression, stress and anxiety. He recognized that and told me to focus on feeling better. Since then, he has worked to make it possible for me to be a stay-at-home mother for our children while taking on the bills and overseeing the work to get our new home ready. I know how much that asks of him, especially in San Francisco. That is part of why it matters to me to recognize when he needs care, too.

The partner you rely on can also need someone to lean on.

Going viral has shown me firsthand that we have become quick to vilify people, filling in everything we cannot see with assumptions.

Sure, you could see that my hands were full, but you couldn’t hear my husband offer to help. You didn’t know that he was grieving or that I wanted to take care of him that evening.

If our viral moment contributes to the conversation about how we judge what we see online, I hope it reminds us to be more comfortable saying: "I don’t know the whole story."

The benefit of the doubt is more than an expression. It is a philosophy that asks us to be curious, to leave room for an explanation, and to remember that the person on our screen has a life beyond what we see.

To the people who insulted Ramses, please remember that our children may someday read your words or watch your videos. I don’t want them to search for this memory and find strangers calling their dad a deadbeat. Some people have gone out of their way to find our names and phone numbers. Some of you have told my husband to kill himself.

To anyone who has done that: shame on you. My husband is a father, a son, and a person deeply loved by people who know who he truly is. Our children need their dad.

To our friends and family who checked in to make sure we were OK, thank you. We live in a world where likes are treated as currency, but in our family, what matters most is the love of the people closest to us.

To Duane Kuiper, Mike Krukow, and the SF Giants production team: you have legendary careers, and my husband has spent years listening to you. He was so excited to get home and send an email to you both, thanking you for including our family in your broadcast on a night that meant so much to him. I believe you meant no harm, but your jokes helped turn a loving moment into ridicule and judgment. What was a few moments of amusement on your broadcast became days of pain for our family.

I wish you knew what that night meant to him before making him the punchline.

Ramses has handled the attention with remarkable composure. He knows who he is and doesn’t let strangers define his relationship with us. He’s our family’s rock, and it’s one of the reasons I married him.

I’ve cried over the comments and the social media "explanations" of our marriage. The man people have been attacking was the one who consoled me. While strangers described how little he must care about me, he was helping me through the hurt their words caused.

The advice we keep hearing is to say nothing, wait a few days, and let everyone move on. My husband didn’t want me to write this but I felt compelled to have my own voice heard, especially when so many people were speaking for me.

I understand and appreciate the kind words about being a super mom. But alongside such compliments have come assumptions about my marriage that are simply not true.

You can appreciate what I was doing that night without assuming I have to do everything alone. Supporting me also means listening when I tell you about my own life.

That night, my husband needed me. I wanted to be there for him.

Thank you for dubbing me "mom of the year." Believe me when I tell you I can only be so with the dad sitting next to me.

Erika Rangel, 39, resides in San Francisco with her husband Ramses and their two children. After a video of her at a Giants game went viral, she shared her experience on Substack to explain that while she was carrying the physical load, her husband was dealing with the mental load.

Contact Newsweek editors on this story: Charlotte Nisbet and Tony Phillips.