When my husband, Eric, suggested having a third child, I reached my breaking point. We already had two kids—Lily, 10, and Brandon, 5—and I was overwhelmed. I was raising them practically alone while juggling housework and a part-time job. Eric, on the other hand, felt his only responsibility was to “provide” financially, leaving everything else to me. I handled it all—cooking, cleaning, school runs, bedtime routines—and though I loved my kids, I was exhausted,

The frustration built up, but I kept quiet until one day, my best friend invited me out for coffee. When I asked Eric to watch the kids for an hour, he refused, claiming he was tired from working all week and telling me I should just take them with me. When I pressed for a break, Eric smugly claimed moms don’t need breaks. That’s when I lost it. I reminded him that his mom and sister probably felt the same way I did, but no one ever listened to them. Eric dismissed my feelings, insisting that providing financially was enough.