When my husband brought up the idea of having a third child, it wasn’t the suggestion itself that unsettled me—it was what it represented. For years, I had carried the weight of our household almost entirely on my own. I managed the children’s schedules, handled the house, worked part-time to help with expenses, and made sure everyone else’s needs were met before my own. My husband saw his role as complete once he provided financially, while the daily realities of parenting fell squarely on my shoulders. So when he spoke casually about adding another responsibility to my already full plate, something inside me finally reached its limit.
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