Lately, my husband has been insisting on having a third child, and the thought fills me with dread. I love my kids and always dreamed of a big family, but the reality is overwhelming. I handle everything—cooking, cleaning, parenting, and working part-time from home. My husband “provides,” but that’s where his involvement ends. He’s never changed a diaper, woken up at night, or taken the kids to a doctor. It’s all me. The idea of managing another pregnancy and a baby alone is unbearable.

Last night, after another one of his speeches about how he’s such a great provider and why we “should” have another child, I snapped. I told him he’s not the amazing husband and father he thinks he is. Our kids barely know him because he’s either absent or snapping at them. I told him I refuse to be a single mom to a third child when two are already more than enough.

He was stunned, called me ungrateful, and stormed off to his mother’s house. The next day, he came back, accused me of not loving him because I didn’t want more kids, and demanded I pack my things and leave. I was shocked, but I complied. As I stood at the door with my bags, I turned to him, said one sentence, and watched as his face turned pale with shock and anger.

I looked straight at him and said, “Marcus, if you want me gone, be prepared to raise the kids without me.” It wasn’t a threat or a spiteful remark—it was an honest statement of fact. One he clearly hadn’t considered. After I uttered those words, he stood frozen, mouth parted in disbelief. I let that moment sink in. Then, despite my heart pounding, I held my head high, walked out the door, and got into my car.Read More Below