My Husband Called Me Lazy for Wanting to Quit My Job While 7 Months Pregnant – So I Taught Him a Lesson He’ll Never Forget

I thought my first pregnancy would be smooth mainly due to the support I expected from my husband. But when I needed his understanding about the struggles of being pregnant, he mansplained it to me, forcing me to teach him a valuable lesson!

I’m 30, seven months pregnant with my first child, and exhausted. Not just “I didn’t sleep well” tired. I mean can-barely-walk, lower-back-throbbing, sciatica-shooting-down-my-leg kind of exhausted. But my suffering meant nothing to my clueless husband.

A happy man | Source: Midjourney

A happy man | Source: Midjourney

You see, I was so tired. The kind where my body feels like a clunky shopping cart with one bad wheel, and the baby inside me has apparently mistaken my bladder for a kickboxing bag! Doug, my husband of four years, is 33. Works in tech. I work in HR.

We both pull long hours and up until this pregnancy, I thought we had a solid partnership. We’d always split chores, tag-team dinners, and supported each other’s goals.

But pregnancy changes things—physically, mentally, and emotionally. And for some reason, it also changed Doug.

A drained pregnant woman | Source: Midjourney

A drained pregnant woman | Source: Midjourney

Lately, every little thing I do feels like dragging a ten-pound weight behind me. I’m swelling and cramping to the point that my OB told me I should consider either working from home full-time or starting maternity leave early.

I took a few days to think about it, then decided to talk to my husband.

So one evening, during dinner—meatballs, roasted potatoes, and spaghetti I cooked—I told him we needed to talk.

A dinner plate | Source: Midjourney

A dinner plate | Source: Midjourney

“Babe,” I started, trying to keep my voice calm, “I’ve been thinking about maybe leaving work early to rest. Temporarily. My body’s just not handling this well, and the doctor—”

He didn’t even let me finish.

He scoffed, like, actually made a sound! Then he smirked and said, “You’re being dramatic. My mom worked until the day she gave birth to me.”

I blinked.

A surprised pregnant woman | Source: Midjourney

A surprised pregnant woman | Source: Midjourney

He went on, “You’re just being lazy. Admit it, you don’t want to work anymore. This isn’t the 1800s. Women juggle jobs and pregnancies all the time. You’re using it as an excuse!”

Then the kicker: “Don’t expect me to pick up the slack financially just because you feel tired!”

I sat there in silence, my fork halfway to my mouth, spaghetti cooling on the utensil and the plate!

I wanted to scream! I wanted to argue my case, but instead, I forced a smile and said, “You’re right. I’ll push through.”

And just like that, a plan was born!

A pregnant woman mid-eating | Source: Midjourney

A pregnant woman mid-eating | Source: Midjourney

I was going to show this man exactly what “lazy” looks like, and what real work actually feels like!

I didn’t quit my job.

Nope!

Instead, I went to work every day for the next week while also waking up early to do everything around the house.

The next morning, I got up at 6 a.m. while he was still snoring. Cleaned the kitchen, prepped his lunch, scrubbed the bathroom floor on hands and knees (hello Braxton Hicks), and left for work like nothing had changed.

For the next six days, I became Superwoman!

A pregnant woman cleaning | Source: Midjourney

A pregnant woman cleaning | Source: Midjourney

I’d wake up early and do every chore in the house—laundry, floors, dishes, garbage, organizing the pantry, dusting fan blades, and even alphabetizing our spice rack.

I went all out! I hand-washed his sweaty gym clothes and hung them in color order. I made fresh dinners nightly: grilled chicken piccata, lemon-garlic pasta, and even a homemade lasagna that nearly made me pass out from standing so long!

An enticing dinner plate | Source: Midjourney

An enticing dinner plate | Source: Midjourney

Doug noticed, of course.

“Wow, you’ve got energy lately,” he said one night, chewing happily. “Told you it was all in your head!”

I smiled sweetly. “Just trying to be the strong woman you believe I am.”

He nodded proudly. “That’s the spirit!”

I almost choked on my salad.

But I wasn’t just exhausting myself for petty satisfaction. I was planning something bigger, something unforgettable.

I did something else my husband didn’t know about. I booked him a well-deserved “surprise!”

A pregnant woman thinking of a plan | Source: Midjourney

A pregnant woman thinking of a plan | Source: Midjourney

See, my OB had referred me to a doula and postpartum coach named Shannon. She’s this no-nonsense powerhouse of a woman who also runs intensive parenting workshops for soon-to-be dads. I asked if she’d be willing to help me out with a little… lesson.

Shannon grinned and said, “I live for this.”

Then I texted my college friend Maddie, whose twin boys were now three months old and in peak screech mode.

“I need a favor,” I told her. “One day. Total chaos. You in?”

My notoriously mischievous friend laughed. “Girl, I’ve been waiting for this moment!”

A woman laughing while sitting her twins | Source: Midjourney

A woman laughing while sitting her twins | Source: Midjourney

I coordinated everything for the upcoming Friday. I figured at that point, my husband wouldn’t suspect anything as he’d relaxed into the idea that I would do everything around the house and still work.

That day, I told him I had a prenatal appointment and needed him to stay and work from home because “the water company and pest control are coming.” Of course, this wasn’t true.

I threw in, “They gave us a window between 9 a.m. and 3 p.m., so please don’t schedule calls.”

He rolled his eyes but said okay. “Guess I’ll babysit the dishwasher.”

He had no idea what was coming!

An unimpressed man | Source: Midjourney

An unimpressed man | Source: Midjourney

Friday morning, I kissed him goodbye, handed him a carefully typed “to-do list” on floral stationery—”Be nice to the workers!”—and left the house.

At 9:15 a.m., Shannon rang the doorbell. Doug later confessed that he answered the door in pajama pants, holding coffee, thinking she was with the water company.

“Hi!” she said cheerily. “I’m here for your fatherhood simulation day!”

Doug blinked. “Wait, for what?”

Then, 75 minutes later, Maddie arrived, juggling diaper bags, bottles, and two babies already crying like fire alarms.

At this point, Doug texted me in a panic!

A panicked man texting | Source: Midjourney

A panicked man texting | Source: Midjourney

Doug: “WHAT IS HAPPENING? There’s a woman here talking about diapers and sleep regression while making me swaddle a fake baby! There are also TWO REAL babies SCREAMING in the living room?!”

Me: “They made it! It’s your real-life dad simulation day! You’ve got this, champ 💪”

No response. For seven hours.

At 6 p.m., I walked into an apocalypse!

A pregnant woman arriving home | Source: Midjourney

A pregnant woman arriving home | Source: Midjourney

One baby was wailing. Doug sat on the couch with a burp cloth over his shoulder and a haunted expression on his face. Shannon sat cross-legged on the rug, sipping chamomile tea like she was meditating through the chaos.

The smell hit me first—diapers and despair.

Doug stood up like Frankenstein’s monster. He looked like he hadn’t slept for three days! “They both pooped. Twice in a matter of hours. One projectile vomited on me! I didn’t eat! They took turns screaming! I think one of them is teething!”

A shocked man talking | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man talking | Source: Midjourney

I blinked. “Weird. You said women can handle pregnancy and careers. You’ve had eight hours. No pregnancy. Plus help.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Then just slumped back down on the couch like someone had unplugged him. He didn’t say anything but stared at a wall hauntingly.

But I wasn’t done.

Later that night, after Maddie left (with a mischievous wink and a “Call me if you need round two”), I handed Doug a wrapped box. Inside was a small scrapbook I’d titled “Things You Didn’t See.”

A wrapped box | Source: Midjourney

A wrapped box | Source: Midjourney

He looked confused but opened it slowly.

Inside were screenshots of texts I’d sent his mom over the last few months, asking for her advice, trying to keep her in the loop. There were photos of my swollen feet next to a vacuum cleaner, receipts from grocery runs, and notes I’d left for him wishing him luck on big meetings, little things he never noticed.

At the end was a sticky note:

“You think I’m lazy? You think I’m weak? I hope today showed you just how wrong you are.”

He stared at it for a long time.

An emotional man staring at a scrapbook | Source: Midjourney

An emotional man staring at a scrapbook | Source: Midjourney

Then he looked up at me, eyes red.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t get it. Not until today,” he said, apologizing profusely.

And for the first time in weeks, I felt like he really saw me.

I nodded. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

But this chapter wasn’t done yet.

Here’s where things get really wild!

A happy pregnant woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A happy pregnant woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, he woke up early and made me pancakes. Real ones, fluffy, golden, with strawberries and whipped cream! Then he made a call I didn’t expect.

He called his mom.

“Hey,” he said. “I just wanted to say sorry. I used the story that you worked until the day I was born against Cindy, but… I shouldn’t have done that. I guess I used it as the standard for everyone, forgetting we are different.”

A man on a call | Source: Midjourney

A man on a call | Source: Midjourney

“I can’t imagine what you went through working full-time while carrying me to term. I’ve seen what Cindy’s suffered through, so I am sorry you had to go through that, Mom.”

His mom paused, then said something I didn’t expect (he’d put her on loudspeaker for me to hear his apology and her response).

“Oh honey, that’s not true! I stopped working four months in! Your dad and I decided that I needed to rest. I just never told you because I didn’t want you to think I was less strong for thinking I’d stayed at home.”

A happy woman on a call | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman on a call | Source: Midjourney

Doug blinked.

“Wait, WHAT?”

I took a long sip of my tea and smiled. “Looks like you believed the wrong version of strength.”

He’s been different since then. More attentive. More understanding. He never uses the word “lazy” anymore!

And last night, as I waddled to bed, he kissed my forehead and whispered, “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

I didn’t say anything.

But I smiled.

Because sometimes, the best way to teach someone what strength looks like… is to let them live in your shoes—poop, puke, and all!

A happy pregnant woman | Source: Midjourney

A happy pregnant woman | Source: Midjourney

The True Reason Why an Indian Man Has Been Holding His Arm Up Since 1973

“I don’t ask for much,” said this man who has held his arm up for 50 years now. We were deeply amazed by his extraordinary gesture, and upon discovering the real purpose behind it, we couldn’t help but eagerly share his story with our beloved readers.

Meet Amar Bharati.

A devoted Indian ascetic by the name of Amar Bharati has been tirelessly advocating for world peace for 50 years, all the while maintaining a remarkable gesture of raising his right hand in the air without ever lowering it.

A sadhu, which is a revered religious ascetic or holy individual in Hinduism (and occasionally in Buddhism and Jainism), is someone who has willingly renounced all worldly desires.

Mr. Bharati, previously a married man with three children who worked as a clerk in New Delhi, made a life-altering decision in 1970 when he resigned from his job and parted ways with his family and friends. His profound commitment led him to dedicate his existence to Shiva, one of the central deities of Hinduism, often referred to as “the primordial yogi.”

Next, he conceived a gesture that would become universally recognized.

https://brightside.me/articles/the-true-reason-why-an-indian-man-has-been-holding-his-arm-up-since-1973-815647/?utm_source=5_minute_crafts_usa_fb&utm_medium=square_cards&utm_campaign=announcement_links&fbclid=IwAR0rmBiMV5SqbY0G8IXzEoTV53xoDTtr1KgUQqYWo0oZoc0_TrypvMHT7jc_aem_AX9k9it5JVTf7zddsnA3o4eTLS2bmTfvJsGzDV3Oa_EWY0sL7AsIjFzITD5oV0yAS__QT8D3aFe2NwIxTl3tr4mY

Starting in 1973, he began raising his arm as a profound symbol of his unwavering devotion and as a powerful statement to actively advocate for peace and oppose conflicts worldwide. In his unconditional commitment, he endured excruciating pain for two long years, resulting in his arm losing all sensation and the muscles therein wasting away.

Indian sadhus frequently embark on the most rigorous forms of penance, demanding exceptional self-discipline, all in the pursuit of attaining liberation and enlightenment, referred to as Moksha in the Indian spiritual context.

Today, Bharati’s arm stands as a testament to his enduring resolve. It has become a mere skeletal structure, and his once-nails have transformed into spiraling claws.

In a candid interview, the wise sadhu shared his heartfelt message, saying, “I do not ask for much. Why are we fighting our sons among ourselves? Why is there so much hatred and enmity between us? I just want all Indians and the whole world to live in peace with each other.”

One can only fathom the immense pain he must have endured throughout his incredible journey. It is precisely these acts of extreme self-discipline and the underlying motivations behind them that have piqued the interest of individuals outside of India, even drawing the attention of historical figures such as Alexander the Great.

Mr. Amar has adapted to life with his raised arm.

He lives as if his arm is missing, using his other hand for everything, like eating, getting dressed, and bathing. Although it’s not easy, Amar firmly believes that this way of life brings him closer to Shiva and encourages people to think about being more peaceful in their daily routines.

“If you try to lower Bharati’s hand you will cause him real pain, not physical but spiritual, for he believes that his eternal salute does indeed promote world peace,” one of his acquaintances explained. Another individual addressed the practical aspect, pointing out that there’s a physical challenge as well. The cartilage in his elbow has dried out, making any attempt to move his arm a potential risk to his joint.

in his devoted pursuit of peace.

Before you go, make sure to read another article where we explain why rocking a peace sign in your photos can put you in danger.

Preview photo credit ERIC LAFFORGUE / Alamy Stock Photo

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