I expected love and support while balancing cravings, swollen feet, and a full-time job while six months pregnant. But from my lovely hubby, what did I receive? A message instructing me to “SAVE UP” for maternity leave was placed in a piggy bank. Who do you think is going to get a nasty awakening? This is meant to be a lovely time, pregnancy, right? Excitement, expectation, and that precious glow of a baby bulge. Let me tell you, though: it might also happen if your spouse abruptly loses his humanity. My beloved Dan gave me a curveball that would make a saint swear. My name is Regina, and I am thirty-five years old. I thought I had life figured out.
“Hi, sweetie!” With my six-month-pregnant belly leading the way, I waddled through the front door and heard Dan scream out. “How was your work?” I let out a moan and removed my shoes. “As comfortable as an office chair for a beached whale. However, I succeeded.” With a laugh, Dan looked down at the grocery bag I was holding. “What did you get? “I pulled out a flowy pregnant dress and said, “A dress that does not make me feel like a sausage in casing.” “This is incredibly cozy! Exactly what I need to comfortably breathe and squeeze my expanding belly.”
His brows furrowed. “Whoa, extravagant spender! Better keep an eye on that money, my dear.” I chuckled, assuming he was kidding. How foolish I was. 
“No, really,” he said, maintaining an unusually serious expression. It is time for you to start saving. “For what purpose?” Confused, I asked. “The baby stuff? Yes, we have been setting money aside for months. Dan shook his head and gave me the impression that I was oblivious to something. “No, for the time after the baby is born when you will not be working. Remember that you will still have to pay your share of the costs.
Thinking I had misheard him, I blinked. “What, I am sorry?” Dan answered, “Well, absolutely,” as though elucidating the wetness of water. Everything is always divided 50/50 between us. Just because you are expecting a baby, why should that change? Just and equal!” I gazed at him, anticipating the comedic moment. It did not materialize. “You do understand I will be healing after pushing a small human out of my body, right? 
Dan,” I uttered slowly. And then providing constant care for that person? recuperation following childbirth. You understand the idea, correct?
He gave a shrug. Yes, but that does not imply that our costs will suddenly vanish. Furthermore, I will not suddenly start making twice as much money. Save money immediately to avoid falling behind.” I had the impression that I was in a strange parallel universe. 
“Let me clarify this now. You expect me to contribute exactly the same as when I work a full-time job, while I am recuperating from giving birth, taking care of our new baby, and on unpaid maternity leave?” I heard Dan moving around the living room that night while I tossed and turned, attempting to find a comfortable position for my ever-expanding body. Upon returning from my fifth midnight toilet break, I discovered a pink porcelain piggy bank on my nightstand, adorned with a Post-it note.