Things were going smoothly for my husband, Dave, and me until our daughter was born. Before that, life felt balanced. But once Marissa arrived, everything changed. Dave believed I wasn’t doing much while he was working. He thought I was just sitting at home, doing nothing, and that’s when I decided to take action. I had to prove to him that being a mom is much more than it looks. So, I left home for a week.
Before I got pregnant, I had a job. But once I found out I was expecting, I decided to quit and focus on being a mother and a wife. Dave agreed with the decision. He believed it was better for our child if I stayed home. I was grateful that he supported me, and I thought it was the best choice too.
My pregnancy was smooth, no complications, thank goodness. I was active, moving around a lot, and often went to the market. I’d come back, prepare meals for Dave, and keep the house in order. I didn’t mind at all because I wanted everything to be perfect for our growing family.
As soon as my second trimester hit, I felt the nesting instinct kick in. I became obsessed with cleaning and organizing our home. I spent hours making sure everything was spotless.
One day, Dave came home and looked around, his face lighting up. “Our house has never looked this great, honey,” he said, kissing me on the cheek. “Thanks for keeping everything together for us.”
It made me so happy to hear that. It felt good to know he appreciated my hard work. I kept up with my routine until the day I gave birth at 39 weeks. When Marissa was born, she became my whole world. I was responsible for her well-being, and that was all that mattered.
But Dave didn’t see it that way. To him, I was just being lazy. He started complaining about how messy the house was and how we had been eating the same meals for days. I was frustrated and exhausted, but I tried to explain.
“I don’t have time to cook something new every day,” I told him. “Marissa cries a lot. She’s a colicky baby, and she needs me.”
But Dave shook his head, not buying it. “Marissa can stay in the crib while you take care of things around here,” he said. “It won’t take long!”
I snapped. I had reached my breaking point. “Why don’t you try it, then?” I fired back. “I’m trying my best to be a great mom. Do you know how exhausting it is to breastfeed every two hours? In between, she wants to be held. She cries every time I put her down. I literally have NO time for anything else!”
Dave didn’t understand. “What are you trying to say?” he asked, his voice cold. “I work the entire day, and I come home to a messy house and food that’s been reheated more than once. How wouldn’t I be frustrated? Stop hiding behind the baby and admit it – you’re being lazy.”
I felt the sting of his words. Tears filled my eyes, and I turned away to retreat to our room.
It was so hard to explain to him how difficult it was to raise a child on my own, even though he was supporting us financially. He worked long hours, but when he was home, he barely helped with the baby, except when I needed a quick break to shower or use the bathroom.
That’s when I realized: he would never understand unless I showed him what I was going through. I needed him to experience it for himself.
So, one weekend, I made a decision. I left. I quietly left a note for Dave. “I’m going on vacation and will return in a week. Marissa’s milk is in the fridge.” I grabbed my bag, turned off my phone, and walked out the door.
I went to the beach. I spent the next week doing things for myself – things I hadn’t done in so long. I was free.
Meanwhile, Dave was left with Marissa. When he found the note, he was furious. He rushed downstairs to the kitchen, his face a mix of confusion and anger. “What the hell is this?” he muttered, reading the note.
But it wasn’t just Dave who was upset. My mother-in-law got involved. “How could that woman be so irresponsible?” she raged. “It’s a woman’s job to raise children, not a man’s! If she couldn’t handle raising a child and keeping the house in order, then she should never have gotten married!”
Her words hit me hard. It wasn’t fair. She had nannies to help her raise her kids, but Dave and I couldn’t afford that luxury. It made me feel like she had no right to judge me.
Back at home, Dave quickly realized just how tough parenting was without my help. Marissa was fussy, and Dave had to handle everything – changing diapers, feeding her, putting her to sleep. By the end of the weekend, he was exhausted and frustrated.
“I get it!” he yelled one night, his voice breaking. “Just come home already!”
I wasn’t there to hear it, but I was watching. I had set up baby monitors around the house, and I could see everything. I watched as Dave struggled to clean up, realizing there was no time for dishes or cooking. He ended up ordering takeout every single day.
By Wednesday, he was overwhelmed. He called his mother in desperation. “Mom,” he cried on the phone. “Jamie left for a vacation, and now I’m here with Marissa alone. I haven’t slept in days! Can you help me, please?”
I could hear his mother yelling through the monitor. “How can she be so irresponsible?” she demanded. “A woman’s job is to raise her children. If she can’t handle it, she shouldn’t have gotten married!”
Hearing those words again made me furious. How could they not understand? I was doing the hardest job of all – being a mother. And I wasn’t alone. I was a partner with Dave, and it was time he learned to share the responsibility.
When I finally came home, Dave was waiting for me. He looked guilty. “I’m sorry, honey,” he said, his voice sincere. “I didn’t realize how much you were doing. I shouldn’t have asked so much of you. You deserve so much more than I’ve been giving you.”
He pulled me into a hug, and I could feel his regret. “I promise to be more present. I’ll share the responsibilities with you. You and Marissa deserve that,” he added.
But what still bothered me was my mother-in-law’s words. She didn’t understand what it was like for me. So now, I’m asking: Should a woman be solely responsible for raising the children and keeping the house in order, or should it be a shared responsibility between spouses? What do you think?
