Real-life. “My Husband Only Treats Me as a Mother and a Cleaner”: I'm Pregnant for the Third Time and It's So Hard

Every day looks the same to me.

When I married Marek, I was sure I had found the love of my life. He was sensitive, caring, always attentive to my needs. The first years of our marriage were full of love and understanding. But with each child, something changed. And now, being pregnant with my third child, I feel like I've become someone who exists only to fulfill his expectations – the mother of his children and the woman who takes care of the house. And where am I in all of this?

Every day of mine looks the same. I wake up early, make breakfast for the kids and Marek, clean up after them, take them to school and kindergarten, do the shopping, cook dinner, clean the house. In the evening, when everything is done, I sit down for a moment to rest, but then Marek asks:

– “Why isn't the laundry hung out yet? You could do it now, since you have a moment?”

Sometimes I wonder if he notices I'm pregnant. That every day is a struggle for me – with back pain, nausea, exhaustion. But Marek doesn't seem to see that. To him, I'm just “brave”, and brave women don't complain.

The evenings are the hardest. When the kids are falling asleep and I just wish Marek would ask how I'm feeling, instead I hear:

– “Make me a cup of tea, please.” And bring something else to eat.”

I feel tears welling up in my eyes, but I don't say anything. Because what could I say? That I feel invisible? That I dream of hearing just once: „Thank you”? That I'm tired, exhausted, and lonely, even though I have a husband and children?

I tried to talk to him recently. I said I felt overworked, that I needed his support. He looked at me as if I was speaking a foreign language.

– „But you always do great. Besides, I work all day, and you're at home. What more do you need?”

These words were like a blow. Marek really thought that being at home wasn't work at all. That taking care of the kids, running the household, and dealing with the pregnancy were nothing compared to his „real” job. And me? Who am I in his eyes?

A few days ago, while cleaning, I found old photos from our wedding in the attic. I looked at myself – a young, smiling woman, full of hope for the future. Could that girl believe that her life would turn out like this? That she would become someone who cares about everyone, but no one cares about her?

Today I'm trying to find the strength to change something. Because I know one thing – if it goes on like this, I'll lose the rest of myself. I love my children, but I want to be more to them than just a mother who's always tired and sad. I want them to see that a woman deserves respect, support, and love.

Will Marek understand this? Will he notice me again? I don't know. But I know I have to try to fight for myself, because if I don't, one day I'll wake up as someone I don't recognize myself.

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