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
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
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
“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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
“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
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
Man Finds a Smashed Phone on the Roadside—When He Inserts the SIM Card Into His Own Phone and Calls ‘Daughter,’ His Heart Stops
They usually say curiosity got the cat, but in my situation, it helped a desperate family find the help they had needed for a long time. My curiosity on the day I found that broken phone also ended up leading to a happy life I never anticipated.
It was a crisp morning when I stepped out of my house, the autumn air cool against my face. My mother, Helen, had already started breakfast, and like every morning, I was on my way to the bakery to pick up fresh rolls for her. Little did I know that this was going to be a very eventful day for both of us.
A man and his mother | Source: Midjourney
It was my mother’s and my little tradition to have breakfast together—something that made our small world feel stable. You’re probably wondering why a 30-year-old successful man would live with his mother.
See, I never knew my father. He’d abandoned my mother when she told him about her pregnancy. So my mother was as lonely as I was, and to prevent that, we decided to live together.
A man living with his mother | Source: Midjourney
What about my romantic life, you ask? Well, I’m not exactly a social butterfly—never have been. My lack of conventional good looks also means that dating has always been a struggle, and I’d long given up trying. Instead, I poured myself into my programming work, spending my days coding and my nights tinkering with gadgets.
That morning, as I strolled down the sidewalk, my sneaker scuffed against something hard. I looked down and saw it—a phone, its screen shattered like a spiderweb, lying in the grass just off the curb.
A broken phone | Source: Midjourney
With my curiosity piqued, I picked it up. The casing was dented, the back partially peeled off, as if it had been run over by a car. It wasn’t a model worth much—an older keypad phone, the kind you only saw in hands that couldn’t afford better.
I turned it over in my hand, seeing an interesting challenge. “Maybe I can fix it,” I murmured.
Slipping it into my pocket, I continued to the bakery, but the phone was on my mind the entire time. It wasn’t just the damage—it was the way it was just lying there, abandoned, as if someone had discarded it in a hurry.
A man at a bakery | Source: Midjourney
By the time I arrived back home, I had forgotten about the broken phone tucked into my pocket. My mom and I had the delicious breakfast she prepared before we set about our Saturday. Remembering the broken phone, I pulled out my own and removed its SIM card.
If the old phone was dead, maybe the SIM card inside still worked, I thought. I carefully slid it into my backup phone and powered it on. A list of contacts appeared. Most were hospitals, schools, and emergency services. Only one number was marked as a favorite—”Daughter.”
A man looking at his phone | Source: Midjourney
Something tightened in my chest. Who had lost this phone? And why did it seem like the only person they truly cared about was this “Daughter”? On impulse, I dialed the number. It rang once. Then twice.
A small, excited voice eventually answered. “Mom?!”
My breath caught. “I—no, I’m not your mom. I’m sorry for calling,” I quickly replied, ready to drop the call, but the next thing the little girl said made me pause.
“Where is she?” Her voice wavered slightly.
A worried man on a call | Source: Midjourney
“Um, I’m sorry, but I don’t know,” I admitted. “I found a broken phone and used its SIM card. Who are you?” I asked curiously, sensing that something was wrong.
The girl hesitated. “Julie. My mom went to the store yesterday and didn’t come back,” she revealed, her voice cracking with emotion.
A cold feeling spread through me. “Julie, where’s your dad, grandma, or anyone I can speak to?”
“I don’t have a dad,” she said softly. “Or a grandma. Just Mom.”
I swallowed. “Do you know where you live?”
“Independence Street. Building seven, apartment 18.”
A rundown apartment building | Source: Midjourney
My hands gripped the phone tighter. “Okay, Julie, are you okay? Are you alone right now?”
“Yes, I’m okay and alone,” she whispered. “But my legs don’t work. I can’t leave.”
I stood abruptly. “Your legs—what do you mean?”
“I have a wheelchair,” she said simply. “But it’s hard to move with no one around to help me. I’m scared.”
I didn’t hesitate as my protective instincts kicked in. “Julie, listen carefully. My name is Alan, and I’m coming to get you. I’ll be there soon, okay?”
“Okay,” she replied weakly before I dropped the phone.
A little girl on a call | Source: Midjourney
My mother, who had been listening, immediately grabbed her coat. “You’re not going alone,” she said firmly. “If there’s a child in trouble, we need to help.”
This wasn’t how I had imagined spending my weekend, but it felt like the right thing to do. Finding that phone when I did was fate. We caught a cab and arrived at the apartment complex in less than fifteen minutes.
It was a run-down building, the kind with flickering hallway lights and mailboxes stuffed with overdue bills.
I held my breath as I knocked on Apartment Eighteen, uncertain of what I’d find.
A man about to knock on a door | Source: Midjourney
A soft, hesitant voice came through the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s Alan,” I said. “I spoke to you on the phone.”
She replied, “The door’s open. Come in.”
The door creaked when I pushed it open just a few inches. A tiny and frail little girl, no older than six or seven, peered up at me from a wheelchair in the makeshift living room. Her hair was unkempt, her face pale and full of sadness, and she looked at me with tired, wide eyes.
My heart clenched.
A frail sad girl | Source: Midjourney
“Will you find my mom?” she asked, her voice trembling, tears in her eyes.
At that moment, I understood that the journey ahead would uncover truths I wasn’t ready to face, but it was too late to turn back now.
So I knelt in front of her and said, “We will, I promise. But first, let’s make sure you’re okay. Do you have food?”
She shook her head. “I ate a sandwich yesterday. That was the last one.”
“I’ll go find something in a bit,” I comforted her.
Taking a breath of resignation, I asked, “Julie, what’s your mom’s name?”
“Victoria,” she said softly. “She never leaves me alone this long.”
That only made my anxiety worse.
A anxious man | Source: Midjourney
“She is the best mom ever and usually returns when she goes out to run errands, but this time, she didn’t. I tried calling her, but her number didn’t go through. None of the neighbors would come to check on me because people here keep to themselves,” the little girl confessed.
My heart ached, and my mind raced. I realized that this wasn’t a simple case. Something was terribly wrong. Julie’s mother had gone missing, and now she was alone, in a wheelchair, unable to move properly, with no one to rely on.
A sad little girl in a wheelchair | Source: Midjourney
But we were here now, so I said, “I’m going to look for food. My mom, Helen, will stay here with you, okay?”
“Okay,” Julie replied.
When I returned, my mother quickly prepared food for the little girl, who scarfed it down hungrily as we sat together. I knew we couldn’t waste time. We needed to find Victoria as soon as possible.
Whipping out my phone, I searched online, checking news reports, and my stomach dropped when I found it: a woman had been hit by a Ford yesterday on Parkova Street. She was in critical condition at a local hospital.
A woman in a hospital | Source: Midjourney
I called immediately but had to ring more than once to get through the busy line.
“Yes,” the nurse who answered confirmed after I explained who I was and that I was with Victoria’s worried daughter. “She was admitted yesterday. She’s stable now but unconscious. We couldn’t reach any family.”
My chest tightened. “I’m coming,” I said without bothering to wait for a response.
My mother and I decided it would be best if we dropped Julie off at our apartment while we went to confirm whether the patient at the hospital was really her mother.
A nice apartment building | Source: Midjourney
We had to reassure Julie that she was safe with our friendly neighbor, Maureen, who gladly offered to watch her in our absence.
When Helen and I got to the hospital, I explained everything to the staff. The nurse hesitated but eventually said, “She just regained consciousness. She’s very weak, and her condition is still quite serious, but I’ll try talking to her about everything. Maybe she’ll want to see you.”
When the nurse returned, she had a hopeful smile. “She’s willing to see you, but please don’t take too long. She needs her rest.”
A happy nurse | Source: Midjourney
We entered her room cautiously. Victoria was pale, her face bruised. Her eyes fluttered open when I stepped closer.
“Who…?” she rasped.
“My name is Alan, and this is my mother, Helen,” I said gently. “I found your phone, and I spoke to Julie. She’s waiting for you.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Julie… is she okay?!”
I nodded. “She’s scared, but she’s alright. She’s been waiting for you to come home.”
Victoria turned away, guilt written all over her face. “I never wanted this.”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
I pulled up a chair. “Victoria, what happened?”
She swallowed. “I was hit on my way to get medicine for Julie. She has a condition… I’ve been trying to save up for surgery, but it’s impossible. I have no family. I was adopted as a child—no relatives, no safety net. I’m an orphan. It’s just been me and Julie for as long as I can remember.”
My heart ached for her.
“We weren’t supposed to be in this situation. After I divorced Julie’s abusive father, I was left with nothing, and I’ve been struggling ever since. My ex-husband and his family won’t help me, and I didn’t know who else to turn to.”
A mean-looking man | Source: Midjourney
She continued, her voice shaking. “I never wanted Julie to feel abandoned, but I was too scared to reach out for help. I thought if I kept quiet about our situation, maybe no one would find out how I’d failed as a parent.”
“I couldn’t afford a car, so I walked everywhere. Last night, I was hurrying home when the accident happened. I was so scared when I came to, not for myself, but because I knew Julie was alone,” she revealed.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
I exhaled, gripping the arms of my chair. “You’re not alone anymore.”
Her gaze lifted, wary but hopeful.
I made a decision right then. “I’ll help you. Julie deserves a chance.”
I reached out to some contacts, and with the help of donations and a specialist, we arranged for Julie to have surgery. It was a long process, but one that changed everything.
A little girl ready for surgery | Source: Midjourney
Months later, I watched as Julie took her first steps. It was shaky, and she clung to my hand, but she was walking! Victoria, who had fully recovered, stood beside me, tears streaming down her face. She turned to me, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You don’t have to,” I said.
A man and woman talking | Source: Midjourney
We became something more than just strangers who had crossed paths. Over time, Julie and I grew close, and my bond with her mother deepened because of the love we had for her. Eventually, our relationship turned into something deeper.
I never expected to have a family, but now, standing beside the woman I’d fallen in love with and married, and the little girl whom I had saved and adopted, I realized I had found one.
And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
A happy family | Source: Midjourney
Here’s another story to keep you entertained. When Charlotte’s fiancé failed to arrive on their wedding day, her world shattered into a million pieces. Finding strength in her friends and family, she made the most of the occasion and found something unexpected.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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