My Husband Told Me to Save Money While Pregnant Since I ‘Won’t Be Able to Work’ After the Baby – Here’s What Happened Next

My Husband Demanded I Save up While Pregnant Because I Won’t Be Able to Work When Our Baby Arrives

I expected love and support while balancing cravings, swollen feet, and a full-time job while six months pregnant. But from my lovely hubby, what did I receive? A message instructing me to “SAVE UP” for maternity leave was placed in a piggy bank. Who do you think is going to get a nasty awakening?

This is meant to be a lovely time, pregnancy, right? Excitement, expectation, and that precious glow of a baby bulge. Let me tell you, though: it might also happen if your spouse abruptly loses his humanity. My beloved Dan gave me a curveball that would make a saint swear. My name is Regina, and I am thirty-five years old. I thought I had life figured out.

“Hey, babe!” With my six-month-pregnant belly leading the way, I waddled through the front door and heard Dan scream out. “How was work?”

I let out a moan and removed my shoes. “As comfortable as an office chair for a beached whale. However, I succeeded.”

With a laugh, Dan looked down at the grocery bag I was holding. “Ooh, what’d you get?”

I pulled out a flowy pregnant dress and said, “A dress that doesn’t make me feel like a sausage in casing.” “This is incredibly cozy! Exactly what I need to comfortably breathe and squeeze my expanding belly.”

His brows furrowed. “Whoa, extravagant spender! Better keep an eye on that money, my dear.”

I chuckled, assuming he was kidding. How foolish I was. 😡

“No, seriously,” he said, maintaining an unusually serious expression. “You should start saving up.”

“For what?” Confused, I asked. “The baby stuff? Yes, we have been setting money aside for months.

Dan shook his head and gave me the impression that I was oblivious to something.

“No, for the time after the baby is born when you won’t be working. Remember that you’ll still have to pay your share of the costs.

Thinking I had misheard him, I blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Dan answered, “Well, yeah,” as though elucidating the wetness of water. Everything is always divided 50/50 between us. Just because you’re expecting a baby, why should that change? Just and equal!”

I gazed at him, anticipating the comedic moment. It did not materialize. 🤷🏻‍♀️

“You do realize I’ll be recovering from pushing a tiny human out of my body, right?,” I murmured softly to Dan. And then providing constant care for that person? recuperation following childbirth. You understand the idea, correct?

He gave a shrug. Yes, but that doesn’t imply that our costs will suddenly vanish. Furthermore, I won’t suddenly start making twice as much money. Save money immediately to avoid falling behind.”

I had the impression that I was in a strange parallel universe. 😨

“Let me clarify this now. You expect me to contribute exactly the same as when I work a full-time job, while I’m recuperating from giving birth, taking care of our new baby, and on unpaid maternity leave?”

“Exactly!” Dan smiled, as though I’d finally realized some important reality. “Observe? You comprehend.”

It escaped my understanding. Not even close. 😢

I heard Dan moving around the living room that night while I tossed and turned, attempting to find a comfortable position for my ever-expanding body.

Upon returning from my fifth midnight toilet break, I discovered a pink porcelain piggy bank on my nightstand, adorned with a Post-it note.

Dan wrote, “START SAVING, MOMMY!” in his chicken scratch.

“Dan?” I cried aloud, stunned into incredulity. “What’s this?”

Gazing at the entryway, he smiled as if he had just found a solution to end world hunger. “Honey, it’s for your savings. You will require it.

Then he burst out laughing. Truly chuckled.

I looked at the piggy bank for a while, then at Dan for a while again. That’s when I made my choice. I would play this game if Dan wants to. And I would triumph. 😈

In the days that followed, I turned into a human calculator. I kept note of every dollar spent and every minute committed in my pregnancy. Was Dan looking for 50/50? Oh, he would be fine with 50/50.

“The True Cost of Growing a Human” was the spreadsheet I made, and I went to work. vitamins for pregnancy? Verify. maternity attire? Indeed. I didn’t stop there, though. Sadly, I ventured farther. 😏

One evening, I yelled, “Hey Dan, quick question.” What is the approximate cost of urinating 17 times in one night?

Perplexed, he raised his head from his phone. “Uh, what?”

“I’m just estimating the increase in the water bill,” I responded pleasantly. “Oh, and while you’re at it, how much would you charge to carry around a bowling ball in your shirt all day?”

Dan narrowed his eyes. “Regina, what are you talking about?”

I gave an innocent smile. “Hey, just some pregnancy math. Don’t stress over it.

With each passing day, my list got longer. I included all of the expenses, both the obvious ones like medical visits and the hidden ones like “hormonal cry session over dog food commercial” and “3 a.m. existential crisis about becoming a parent.”

I’d been monitoring closely for a week, and finally I was ready. My masterpiece, an exquisitely comprehensive pregnancy expense invoice, was printed out.

I was seated at the kitchen table with the piggy bank next to the invoice and the invoice in front of me when Dan got home from work.

He put down his briefcase and inquired, “Hey, what’s all this?”

I grinned. “Well, just a little reading. Would you mind having a look?”

Dan took a seat and took up the paper. His gaze grew wide as he went down the list.

“Regina… what is this?”

With joy, I remarked, “That’s your half of the pregnancy costs, my dear husband.” “Since we’re splitting everything 50/50, as per your request.”

When he saw the total at the bottom, his mouth fell. “This… this can’t be right.”

“Oh, that’s right 😙,” I told him. “I’ve done a really good job. Look, there’s even a line item for “mental distress brought on by spouse’s demands for money.” It was quite expensive.

Dan displayed a remarkable spectrum of emotions on his face, including shock, amazement, uncertainty, and then dawning recognition.

“Regina, I… I didn’t mean…”

I extended a hand. “Oh no, you were rather explicit. Remember that we divided everything in half? Thus, you have already paid half of the pregnancy’s expenses. Don’t worry, I’ll continue to keep track when the baby arrives. Changes of diapers at 2 a.m? It’ll cost $20 for each. nursing a child? We’ll refer to it as $50 per session. Oh, and I charge a beauty tax for each stretch mark.”

Dan appeared as if he might pass out. “But… but…”

“Now,” I said, giving the piggy bank a pat, “I advise you to begin saving money.” Ultimately, you will require it.”

Dan looked at the invoice for a moment, then back at me. He finally sighed deeply, defeated.

“I’ve been an idiot, haven’t I?”

I gave a wise nod. “The biggest.”

I walked to our room with the gracefulness of a pregnant penguin, stopping only to give the piggy bank a sarcastic pat. It’s your turn, Dan, to feed the pig. And it has quite the appetite, I promise.”

I wasn’t finished, though. Oh no, Dan’s financial awakening was just getting started. 😌

I turned into an amazing pregnant accountant over the course of the following few weeks.

Each and every time you go to the store? precisely marked with military markings. fresh invoices for medical care? Right onto Dan’s tab, cha-ching. Did the baby decide to practice river dance on my bladder, causing those 3 a.m. wake-ups? That certainly made the list.

Every twinge, every waddle, and every time I had to ask Dan to tie my shoes because I was losing sight of my feet, I began to charge.

Feeling like I had a bowling ball in my shirt as I ran errands? And there was a big convenience cost for that.

With every new sum, Dan’s eyes widened. His wallet was squirming in his back pocket, I swear. More quickly than a shopaholic with a new credit card during a Black Friday sale, he was accruing debt to me.

At last, as I saw the numbers rise over my ever-increasing waist circumference, Dan broke.

One morning he screamed, hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay!” “I understand. I understand you completely.”

Then the tide abruptly changed. In the ensuing weeks, Dan’s disposition completely changed. 🥳

He began doing more housework, escorting me to doctor’s appointments, and even registering us for a pregnant yoga class as a couple.

Dan cleared his throat one evening when we were sitting on the couch, me with my feet in his lap and him giving me a much-needed foot rub.

He looked uncomfortable as he said, “Regina, I owe you an apology. a significant one.”

I arched an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“I totally lost sight of what’s truly essential because I was preoccupied with the money. Rather than offering you assistance while you develop our child, I made your situation more stressful. I apologize.

My eyes started to get teary (stupid pregnant hormones).

I gave him a handshake. “I want you to know that we’re in this together going forward. In totality. “Enough with the 50/50 crap.”

“So, does this mean I can tear up the invoice?”

I gave a sly wink of the eye as I nodded. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

I smiled. “We get to smash that piggy bank together.”

It was the first time he had laughed in weeks. “Deal.”

And so we broke that monstrous chunk of ceramic into a thousand pieces with great ceremony (and perhaps a little too much excitement). We cleared away shattered china, but as we swept up the fragments, I couldn’t help but feel like we had removed more.

As he gathered the last of the piggy shards, Dan remarked, “You know, I think I learned an important lesson here.”

“Oh, I see. What is that?

His hand was on my stomach as he drew me in closer. “Never underestimate a pregnant woman with Excel skills!”

I gave him permission to destroy the invoice, but not before obtaining his unequivocal promise to take charge and provide for the family in the event of the baby’s arrival. I got him to promise in writing to pay for all of our costs during my maternity leave.

What about that piggy bank? Let’s just say that its patched remnants are now a tribute to the day Dan discovered that marriage and parenting are about more than just keeping score, and they serve as a reminder of that in our garden. It’s about working as a unit.