I Accidentally Overheard My Mom and MIL Talking, and Now I Don’t Want to See Either of Them Again

Your partner should be your strongest ally — the one who supports you when you’re unwell and celebrates your successes. But after seven months of solo parenting with no assistance from her husband, one overwhelmed mother came to the harsh realization of how isolated she truly was. So, she made the bold decision to have her husband experience life from her perspective.
Your partner should be your pillar of support. But for Jess, our reader, the reality of marriage and motherhood has been far from that. After seven grueling months of raising a baby, she’s come to the painful realization that her husband has been largely absent in helping — no late-night feedings, no shared duties — just indifference. This lack of support has pushed her to consider a form of sweet revenge, but she’s now torn, questioning whether it might be too much for her husband.
Jess wrote, “Hi, Now I’ve Seen Everything. My name is Jess , I’m 32, and I’ve been married to my husband, Colin (38), for 11 years. We have a beautiful 6-month-old baby, but the journey to parenthood has been anything but easy.”
“My pregnancy was extremely challenging — high-risk from the very beginning. Every day, I faced the constant fear of losing our baby. The stress was overwhelming, both physically and emotionally. And then came the birth... a traumatic and complicated experience that has left me with ongoing health issues. Even now, months later, I’m still struggling to fully recover.”
“Colin had always dreamed of becoming a father. We went through a long and painful struggle to conceive, filled with hope and heartbreak. When I finally became pregnant, I thought it would bring us closer together. But instead, something changed.”
“The moment our child arrived, Colin became a completely different person — cold, distant, and shockingly indifferent. The loving, supportive man I married has turned into someone I barely recognize. He’s harsh, dismissive, and, at times, downright selfish. I never imagined that after everything we went through, I’d feel so alone in this journey of parenthood.”
Jess continues her story, sharing, “With my baby in my arms, I somehow manage to work remotely, balancing deadlines while calming cries, changing diapers, and running on little to no sleep. Every day feels like a never-ending marathon. Meanwhile, Colin works full-time, and for some reason, he believes this makes him a king — entitled, above everything, as if his contribution is far more significant than mine.”
“In the early months, around three or four, our baby would spend maybe 5 to 15 minutes total with him in a whole 24-hour period. That’s it. Just a few fleeting moments before he’d disconnect again, retreating into his own world while I carried the full weight of parenting on my shoulders.”
“We have no family nearby, no extra hands to help. It’s just me — day in and day out — caring for our child while also trying to maintain my job from home. I don’t get breaks. I don’t get a pat on the back. And the most painful part? Colin doesn’t seem to notice or care. I never expected to feel this alone in a home that’s supposed to be filled with love and partnership.”
Jess revealed, “Our daily routine has become a cycle of exhaustion for me. Every morning, our baby wakes up at 7:00 am and nurses until about 7:45 am. Then, for about an hour — until 8:45 am — he spends time with his dad. This is the only window I have to rest, so I use it to catch up on desperately needed sleep.”
“After being up all night nursing, soothing, and co-sleeping (which works best for us, so please don’t judge), this 45-minute stretch is the only time I get to lie down alone. It’s the only moment I can truly relax, stretch out, and sleep in whatever position I want — on my belly, sprawled out, without a tiny body pressed against me.”
“Then, at 9 am, Colin gets ready and leaves for work, returning around 5 pm. For those hours in between, it’s just me and the baby. No breaks. No help. Just an endless loop of feedings, diaper changes, rocking, soothing, and trying to squeeze in my remote work whenever I can.”
“I am running on empty, yet somehow, I have to keep going. This tiny sliver of time in the morning — those 45 minutes — isn’t luxury. It’s survival. I need it to recharge so I can take care of our baby for the rest of the day, completely alone.”
Jess wrote, “I was dead exhausted after another sleepless night caring for the baby. All I needed was that one precious hour of rest. But instead of letting me sleep, my husband kept barging into
the room, nudging me, demanding that I wake up. When I still didn’t respond, to my utter shock, he accused me of ’being tired after doing nothing.’”
“I was stunned. Furious. Heartbroken. A loud argument broke out — voices raised, words flying like daggers. Colin went on about how he worked ’like a bull’ and how I did nothing all day except ’sit with the baby.’”
“According to him, he was the one who actually deserved rest, not me. His words cut deep, stripping away every sacrifice I had made, every sleepless night, every moment I had spent pouring my energy into raising our child alone.”
“That was it. The last straw. I felt something inside me snap. If he thought I was just sitting around doing nothing, if he truly believed I had it so easy — fine. I made up my mind in that moment — he needed to understand exactly what my life was like. I wasn’t going to just argue; I was going to make him experience it firsthand. I began to plan my revenge.”
Jess wrote, "That night, as I lay in bed with my baby nestled against me, exhaustion still clinging to my bones, I knew I couldn’t let this go. Colin had dismissed everything I did, made me feel invisible in my own home. He thought I had it easy? That I did nothing? Fine. Let him live in my world for a while.
The next morning, I put my plan into action. At exactly 6:15 a.m., when our baby stirred awake, I turned to Colin and gently shook his shoulder. “Your turn,” I whispered.
He grumbled, barely opening his eyes. “What?”
“I’m taking a break,” I said, slipping out of bed. “You always say I do nothing, so today, you do it. Take care of the baby, work, and handle everything else. I’ll be out.” He sat up, rubbing his face. “Wait, where are you going?” I smiled sweetly, “Out.”
Before he could protest, I was already throwing on a sweater and grabbing my bag. I had no concrete plans — just a burning need to disappear for a few hours, to breathe. Maybe I’d get a coffee. Maybe I’d sit in the car and just exist without anyone needing me every second.
Colin called after me, but I was already out the door. I didn’t look back. I was absent for 4 hours, and I didn’t pick up the phone when he was calling hysterically. I came home to chaos.
Colin looked like he had been through hell. His hair was a mess, his shirt had a mysterious stain on it, and he was bouncing a screaming baby in his arms. The house was a disaster — bottles scattered, laundry half-done, a cold cup of coffee abandoned on the counter. He looked me straight in the eye and said, “This isn’t a game, Jess. What you did was irresponsible. What if something happened? What if I had a meeting? You can’t just abandon your family whenever you feel like it.”
That hit a nerve. I stepped closer, my voice low and steady, “Abandon? You mean the way you abandon me every day — emotionally, mentally, physically? The way you ignore everything I do and act like I don’t deserve sleep, respect, or even basic appreciation?”
Colin scoffed, shaking his head, “I work full-time, Jess. I provide for this family. You don’t understand what it’s like to be the one carrying that burden.” I let out a humorless laugh. “Burden? You mean going to a quiet office, drinking hot coffee, having adult conversations, and then coming home to dismiss the woman who’s been keeping your child alive? Yeah, sounds so tough.”
His face turned red, but he didn’t raise his voice. Instead, he inhaled sharply, exhaling as if he was preparing to say something significant. And then — he did. “I think we should get a divorce.”
Jess wrote, “I didn’t protest when he said that, and I didn’t even try to stop him when he packed his things and left. Now, I’m unsure how to move forward in our relationship. Should I apologize? Am I the bad person here? Am I guilty?”
What would you do if you were in Jess’s shoes? Have you or someone you know experienced similar challenges during the first few months of a child’s life? Share your stories and advice in the comments below.
And here’s a story of a woman whose husband humiliated her on their wedding day. But fortunately, karma proved to be real, and the man received a well-deserved lesson.