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My Husband Refused to Assemble Our Baby’s Crib — So I Did It Myself While 9 Months Pregnant, but the Lesson I Taught Him Was Harsh

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Eloise, nine months pregnant and eager to prepare for the baby’s arrival, was growing more and more frustrated with her husband, Tom. Despite her constant reminders, the crib they had bought remained in its box, untouched, a clear sign of his procrastination. With the baby due any day now, Eloise decided she couldn’t wait any longer. She was determined to teach Tom a lesson he wouldn’t forget.

Sitting in the nursery’s armchair, Eloise stared at the unopened crib box. The room was almost perfect, ready to welcome their baby, but the unassembled crib was a glaring reminder of all the promises Tom hadn’t kept. Every time she asked him to put it together, he’d say, “I’ll do it tomorrow.” But tomorrow never seemed to come. Now, she felt exhausted and more alone than ever.

For Tom, assembling the crib was just another task on his endless list of things to do. But for Eloise, it was a crucial part of getting ready for their baby—a symbol of their teamwork, which lately felt more like a solo effort. The longer the crib sat there untouched, the more Eloise wondered if she could truly rely on Tom when it really mattered.

Fed up, she decided to do it herself.

With a determined sigh, Eloise dragged the heavy box across the room, ignoring the protests from her aching back. As the baby shifted inside her, a sharp pain reminded her that she shouldn’t be doing this kind of work. But what choice did she have?

The instructions were confusing, a jumble of steps that didn’t make much sense, but she pressed on. Piece by piece, screw by screw, her hands trembled with the effort. Just as she was wrestling with a particularly stubborn part, Tom walked into the room. He had that laid-back look on his face—the one that used to make her fall in love with him—but now, it only made her angrier.

“Hey,” he said casually, glancing at the half-assembled crib. “You’re doing great. Why’d you ask me to help if you could do it yourself?”

Eloise couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Did he seriously just say that? She wanted to scream at him, to make him understand how much he was letting her down. But she knew it wouldn’t make a difference, so instead, she turned back to the crib, tears welling up in her eyes.

Tom stood there for a moment, then shrugged and left the room, leaving her to finish what should have been their shared project. By the time she was done, she felt utterly defeated. She sank to the floor, staring at the crib through a haze of tears. This was supposed to be a moment they shared—something they could both look back on with pride and fondness. Instead, it had become another painful reminder of how alone she felt.

That night, as Eloise lay in bed next to Tom, her mind raced. It wasn’t just about the crib. It was about the way he brushed off her concerns, acting like her strength and independence meant she didn’t need him. But she did need him—just not in this way. Something had to change. This wasn’t just about building a crib; it was about building their life together.

The next morning, Eloise woke up with a plan. She wasn’t usually one to be vindictive, but after what had happened, she knew Tom needed a wake-up call.

“Tom,” she said, rubbing her back as if it ached more than it did. “I think I’m going to take it easy today. I’ve just been so tired lately.”

Tom barely looked up from his phone. “Sure, babe. Take all the time you need. I’ve got everything under control.”

That was exactly what Eloise wanted to hear. “I invited a few friends and family over tomorrow for a little get-together before the baby comes. Could you handle the rest of the preparations? You know, get the cake, set up the decorations, make sure everything’s perfect?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, no problem. How hard can it be?”

Oh, Tom. If only you knew.

Eloise spent the rest of the day lounging on the couch while Tom tinkered with his computer, completely unaware of the challenge he’d just agreed to. The next morning, she stayed in bed longer than usual, letting Tom oversleep just enough to throw him off schedule.

When he finally woke up, Eloise handed him the list she had prepared. It looked harmless enough—just a few tasks to get the party ready—but she had left out one crucial detail: there wasn’t nearly enough time to get everything done.

“Here’s the list,” she said, stifling a yawn. “I’m just going to rest a bit more. You’ve got this, right?”

Tom, still groggy, scanned the list. “Yeah, no worries. I’ll get it all done.”

Eloise bit back a smirk, knowing this was going to be interesting.

An hour later, she could hear him in the kitchen, cursing under his breath as he scrambled to complete the tasks. Cabinets slammed, and she heard him muttering something about the cake order. She stifled a laugh, imagining him panicking at the bakery, trying to charm his way into getting a last-minute cake.

This was exactly what she wanted—to make him feel the panic of realizing he wasn’t as prepared as he thought.

As the morning went on, Tom’s stress levels were obvious. He rushed in and out of the house, arms full of groceries, decorations half-dangling from his hands. At one point, he poked his head into the bedroom, his hair a mess.

“Babe, where did you say the streamers were?” he asked, his voice higher than usual.

“Check the hall closet,” Eloise mumbled, pretending to drift back to sleep.

She knew the streamers weren’t in the hall closet—they were buried in the basement behind a stack of old Christmas decorations. But Tom didn’t need to know that.

By the time the guests started arriving, Tom was a wreck. The decorations were sloppily placed, the food barely prepared, and Eloise could see the panic in his eyes as he tried to hold everything together.

She watched from the couch, pretending to be interested in a magazine, as their friends and family filled the living room. The moment of truth came when Tom’s mother arrived. She gave him a once-over, her eyebrows furrowing.

“What’s going on here, Tom?” she asked, eyeing the half-hung decorations and the empty spot where the cake should’ve been.

Tom stammered, running a hand through his hair. “I, uh, I had everything under control, but… things got a little crazy.”

His mother sighed, shaking her head. “You should’ve known better.”

Tom looked like he wanted to disappear, and for a moment, Eloise almost felt sorry for him. But then she remembered the weeks of empty promises, the nights spent worrying, and the crib she had assembled all on her own.

No, he needed to feel this.

After the party, when the guests had left, Tom and Eloise sat down at the kitchen table. He looked exhausted, defeated. She let the silence stretch until he finally spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t realize how much I was leaving on your shoulders. I thought I was helping, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t there like I should’ve been.”

Eloise nodded, a lump forming in her throat. “Tom, I need to know I can rely on you. Not just for the big things, but for everything. I can’t do this alone, and I shouldn’t have to.”

Tom reached across the table, taking her hand. “I promise, I’ll do better. I’ll be there. I’ll change.”

Eloise searched his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. “Okay,” she said finally. “But this is your chance, Tom. Don’t waste it.”

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