Ever since Scott and I announced my pregnancy, Avery—my husband’s female best friend—has been all over us with endless, unsolicited advice. At first, I tried to brush it off, but when she insisted on hosting my baby shower, I knew I had to do something. I was sick of her controlling behavior, so I came up with a plan to teach her a lesson she’d never forget.
Let me back up a little.
Scott met Avery at work. They clicked right away since both of them were in the health field—Scott worked as a food safety auditor, and Avery was a nutritionist. Naturally, they bonded over their careers and health topics.
When Scott first introduced me to her, everything seemed fine. Avery and I even got along at the beginning. We talked about music, swapped career stories, and she quickly became part of our social group. I honestly thought she was nice.
But then came the pregnancy announcement.
The day Scott and I shared the news on social media, Avery was one of the very first people to text.
“Congratulations! You two are going to be amazing parents!” she wrote.
It sounded genuine. Sweet, even. But that was the start of what became a nightmare.
From then on, Scott’s phone would not stop buzzing. Avery was sending him lists, charts, articles—everything under the sun about what we should eat, drink, buy, or avoid.
One evening, Scott handed me his phone with an exasperated look.
“Jean, look at this,” he said. “Avery sent another list of things we ‘need’ to buy. She says we should switch to organic everything.”
I skimmed the message and rolled my eyes. “Scott, this is too much. We don’t need her dictating how we prepare for our baby.”
He sighed. “I know. She’s just trying to help, though. Do you want me to say something?”
“Just ignore it,” I said firmly, setting his phone down. “She’s not the one pregnant—we are. This is our baby, not hers.”
But ignoring her didn’t help. In fact, it made things worse.
Her texts became constant, almost like she was monitoring us. On social media, she’d post supportive, sweet comments like, “So happy for you guys!” But privately? She was picking apart every choice I made.
If I posted a picture of my lunch, Scott’s phone would buzz. “Jean shouldn’t be eating that. She needs more folic acid.”
Another time, she messaged: “Jean should avoid caffeine entirely. It’s not good for the baby.”
Scott showed me one of those texts with disbelief. “Can you believe this? It’s like she’s keeping tabs on everything you eat!”
I groaned. “I can’t deal with her constant nagging. This has to stop.”
Things reached a boiling point when it came to the baby shower.
I had been planning a sweet, intimate celebration with my mom and sister. It was important to me that they be the ones organizing it. Then one night, I got a text from Avery:
“Hey Jean! I would love to host your baby shower. I have so many great ideas!”
I typed back quickly but politely: “Thank you, Avery, but my mom and sister are already handling it. I really appreciate the offer!”
I thought that would settle it. I was wrong.
The very next day, there was a knock at my door. I opened it to see Avery, her arms stacked with decorations, menus, and color swatches.
“Surprise!” she beamed. “I brought everything we need for your baby shower!”
She walked right past me into the house.
I tried to keep my voice calm. “Avery, I told you, my mom and sister are planning the shower.”
“But I have everything prepared!” she insisted, her tone turning sharp. “Trust me, I know what’s best for you and the baby.”
Before I could say another word, she started spreading things out on the table. “Look—I arranged for a gluten-free, sugar-free cake, and I found the cutest eco-friendly favors. Oh, and I’ve made a playlist with relaxing music for the baby’s brain development.”
I stood frozen, watching her take over my house like it was hers.
“Avery,” I said firmly, “this is something my mom and sister want to do. You really need to respect that.”
She gave me a piercing look. “Jean, you have to understand—I only want everything to be perfect for you.”
That was it. That was the moment I decided Avery needed a reality check.
So, I pretended to agree with her plans. I smiled, nodded, and let her think she was running the show. But secretly? I went ahead with my mom and sister’s shower at a completely different location.
The day of the shower came. Avery was at my house, decorating like crazy. Through our home’s security camera app, I could see everything. She had covered the place with pastel streamers, arranged flowers everywhere, and placed her precious sugar-free cake right in the center of the table.
But there was one problem. No one came.
The house was silent except for the soft hum of Avery’s playlist.
Meanwhile, I was across town at a cozy little café with all my closest family and friends. My mom and sister had put together the most beautiful baby shower, full of warmth, laughter, and love.
We played games, opened gifts, and everyone showered me with affection. I was glowing—not just from pregnancy, but from pure happiness.
Then I pulled out a little surprise of my own. I snapped a Polaroid of all of us together, tucked it into a box with a single cupcake, and asked a delivery guy to drop it off at my house.
Through the camera app, I watched as Avery opened the package. She pulled out the photo and read the note I’d written: “We know you’re enjoying your dietary options—just wanted to share.”
Her face turned red. She slammed the box down on the table, fuming.
Moments later, my phone buzzed. It was Avery calling. I let it go to voicemail.
That night, after the party, Scott and I returned home. Not even five minutes later, the doorbell rang.
I opened it to find Avery standing there, eyes blazing. She shoved past me into the house.
“How could you do this to me?” she screamed. “I worked so hard for that shower, and you just—abandoned it! Everyone was supposed to come to my party!”
I stayed calm. “Avery, this wasn’t about you. It was about celebrating our baby. You crossed a line. And from now on, that means no more advice, no more controlling, and no more interfering.”
Her face paled. She glanced at Scott. “Wait—you told Jean about all my messages?”
Scott looked her straight in the eyes. “Of course I did. Why would I keep that from her?”
Avery’s lips trembled. Then, almost desperately, she blurted, “I thought it would work!”
I frowned. “What do you mean, ‘work’?”
She broke down, tears spilling over. “I thought if Scott followed my advice, you’d get annoyed and fight. I hoped it would drive you apart.”
Scott’s jaw dropped. “Why would you want that?”
Finally, she confessed: “Because I’ve been in love with you, Scott, for years! I thought if I stayed close, maybe one day you’d realize I was the one for you.”
Scott looked at her, not with anger, but with pity. “Avery, I’m sorry, but my heart belongs to Jean. It always has. You need to find someone who loves you like I love her—but that person isn’t me.”
She sobbed harder, begging, “Please, Scott! Just give me a chance! I can’t stand seeing you with her!”
But Scott shook his head. “No, Avery. This has to stop. We can’t have you in our lives if you can’t respect our relationship.”
Her sobs turned into wails as she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
For a long moment, Scott and I stood in silence. Finally, he turned to me and wrapped his arms around me.
“Are you okay?” he asked gently.
Tears welled in my eyes, but I nodded. “I am now. Thank you for standing up for me.”
He kissed my forehead. “I’ll always stand by you, Jean. You and our baby are my everything.”
That night, we talked for hours. We knew Avery had tried to test us, but instead, she had only made us stronger.
Months later, I gave birth to a healthy, beautiful baby. Avery was no longer a part of our lives. And as I held our child in my arms, I realized something: trials like these only made Scott and me appreciate our love even more.
Whatever challenges the future held, we knew one thing for certain—we’d face them together.