Things were going smoothly for my husband, Dave, and me, until I gave birth to our daughter, Marissa. Before that, everything felt perfect. But after I had her, things started to change. Dave believed I wasn’t doing anything while he was at work, and it frustrated me. So, I decided to leave home for a week to prove him wrong.
Before I found out I was pregnant, I had a full-time job. But when the pregnancy test came back positive, I made the decision to quit my job. I wanted to focus on being a mom and wife, and Dave supported my choice. He believed it would be best for our child in the long run.
Luckily, my pregnancy went smoothly. There were no complications, and I was able to stay active. I often went to the market and came home to cook meals for Dave. I even started cleaning the house more than usual, driven by those nesting instincts every mom hears about. By the time I hit my second trimester, I was cleaning the house almost nonstop.
One day, as Dave came home from work and looked around, he smiled and said, “Our house has never looked this great, honey. Thanks for keeping everything together for us.” He even kissed me on the cheek, and I felt happy knowing he appreciated all the work I was putting in.
That was how things went for months. I focused on the house, on cooking, on taking care of everything. But when Marissa was born at 39 weeks, everything changed. She was my whole world now. My time was consumed by her – she depended on me for everything. How could I think about anything else?
But Dave didn’t see it that way. To him, I was just being lazy. He would come home, look around at the house, and complain about how messy everything was. He also didn’t like eating the same meals for days on end. “Why don’t you make something new?” he asked one night. “I don’t have time to cook something new every day,” I told him. “Marissa cries all the time, and she’s colicky. I can’t leave her alone.”
Dave didn’t believe me. “Marissa can stay in the crib while you get things done around here,” he replied. “It won’t take that long.”
That’s when I finally snapped. “Why don’t you try it, then?” I said, my voice shaking with frustration. “I’m trying to be a good mom to our daughter! Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to breastfeed every two hours? And in between, she needs to be held. She cries the second I put her down. I can’t do anything else!”
Dave’s face hardened, and he shot back, “What are you trying to say? I work all day and come home to a messy house and reheated food. How do you think that makes me feel? Stop hiding behind the baby and admit you’re being a lazy wife!”
His words cut through me like a knife. I could feel my eyes filling with tears. “That hurt,” I whispered, and turned away, walking to our room.
I couldn’t believe he didn’t understand. Raising a child alone was hard work. Yes, Dave was working hard, but he wasn’t around much. And when he was home, he hardly helped with Marissa, except when I needed a quick break to shower or go to the bathroom.
In that moment, I realized that Dave would never understand what I was going through unless I showed him. So, I made a plan. One weekend, while Marissa was peacefully asleep on Dave’s chest, I decided to leave.
I wrote him a note that said, “I’m going on vacation for a week. Marissa’s milk is in the fridge.” Then, I turned off my phone, grabbed my bag, and left the house. I went to the beach, booking myself a whole week of relaxation – something I hadn’t done in a long time.
When Dave woke up and saw the note, he was stunned. He rushed downstairs and read it, both shocked and angry. But I didn’t care. I needed a break.
As for Dave, he didn’t know what to do. My mother-in-law, of course, wasn’t happy. “How could that woman be so irresponsible?” she yelled when she heard about it. “It’s a woman’s job to raise her children, not a man’s. If she couldn’t handle the responsibility, she shouldn’t have gotten married.”
I didn’t care about her opinion. She had nannies to take care of her kids – something Dave and I couldn’t afford.
During the weekend, Dave had to look after Marissa all on his own. And suddenly, he saw how hard it was. He changed her diapers, gave her a bath, fed her, burped her – the works. By the time Wednesday came around, he was losing it. He called his mom in tears.
“Mom, Jamie left for a vacation, and I’m here alone with Marissa,” he sobbed. “I haven’t slept in days! Can you please help me?”
His mother’s response was predictable. “How could she do this? She should be taking care of her child, not abandoning her responsibilities!” she shouted. “It’s a woman’s job to raise the children and keep the house in order, not a man’s!”
I couldn’t help but laugh at her words. If anyone knew about help, it was her – with nannies and staff. I didn’t have that luxury.
While I was away, I checked the baby monitors at home. I saw the house becoming more and more of a mess as Dave struggled. He couldn’t even find time to wash the dishes. Every meal was takeout.
By the time I returned home, Dave had finally learned his lesson. When I walked through the door, he immediately apologized.
“I’m sorry, honey,” he said, his voice full of sincerity. “I didn’t realize how hard it is for you. I should have been more understanding.”
He pulled me into a tight hug. “You go through so much every day, and I was still demanding things from you. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I promise to be a better partner and share the responsibilities with you. You and Marissa deserve so much more, and I’ll do better.”
I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Finally, Dave understood. But I couldn’t stop thinking about my mother-in-law’s harsh words. Should a woman be expected to do everything at home and take care of the kids, or should the responsibilities be shared equally between spouses?
What do you think? Should everything fall on the mother, or should it be a partnership between both parents?
