Things were going smoothly for my husband and me until I gave birth to our daughter. He believed I wasn’t doing anything all day while he was at work, so I decided to leave home for a week to prove to him that this wasn’t true at all. After finding out that I was pregnant, I quit my job in order to focus on being a mother and wife. My husband Dave supported my decision and thought this would be better for our child in the long run.
Thankfully, I had an easy pregnancy without complications. I was able to move around a lot, so I would often go to the market and return home to cook something for my husband. During my pregnancy, my nesting instincts kicked in pretty early, too, so as early as my second trimester, I was energized to keep cleaning our home most of the time.
I smiled, happy that he appreciated my efforts. I continued to do this until I gave birth at 39 weeks. When my daughter came, she became my entire world. A human being relied on me for everything – how could I prioritize anything else?
To my husband, I was simply being lazy. He commented on how messy the house had gotten, and how we had been eating the same type of food for several days. “I don’t have time to cook up something new every day,” I told him. “Marissa cries a lot and is a colicky baby. She needs me,” I would explain.
Dave shook his head, thinking I was lying. “Marissa can stay in the crib while you attend to things in the house,” he replied. “It won’t even take that long!”
“Why don’t you try it, then?” I suddenly blew up. “I’m trying my best to be a great mom to our child. Do you know how exhausting it is to breastfeed every two hours? And in between, she wants to be held. She cries every time I put her down in the crib. I literally have NO time to do anything else!”
“What are you trying to say?” he shot back. “I work the entire day, and I come home to an unkempt house and food that I’ve reheated from the fridge more than twice. How in the world wouldn’t I be frustrated with that? Stop hiding behind the child and just admit you’re being a lazy wife.”
My eyes were filled with tears at this point. “That hurt,” I told him, walking away to enter our room.
How could he not realize how difficult it was to raise a child alone? Yes, he supported us financially, but he was barely home. And every time he was home, he barely helped with the baby except for when I needed to take a quick shower or use the bathroom.
At that moment, I realized my husband would never understand things from my point of view unless I showed him what I had to go through on a daily basis. One weekend, I left Marissa with Dave. She was asleep on top of him, and I used that as my signal to head down the stairs.
In the kitchen, I left him a note that read: “I’m going on vacation and will return in a week. Marissa’s milk is in the fridge.” I turned off my phone, grabbed my bag, and left. I booked a trip to the beach and spent an entire week doing things for myself that I hadn’t done in a while. When Dave realized that I was gone, he rushed down the stairs and found my note. He was both shocked and pissed. He had no choice but to care for Marissa alone, as no nanny or babysitter was available at such short notice. During the weekend, he didn’t realize how difficult it was to care for a child. He changed her diapers, gave her a bath, fed her, burped her, and so much more. “I get it!” he yelled at one point. “Just come home already,” he begged to no one in particular. I monitored how the house looked from my daughter’s baby monitors around the house and saw that Dave didn’t have time to wash the dishes or make meals. He ordered food every single day.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a policeman who rushed a pregnant woman to the hospital, only to become the father of the newborn later. This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.
