I sat on the armchair, staring at the unopened crib box in the corner of the nursery. Everything was ready for the baby’s arrival except for that darn crib. It had been sitting there for weeks, reminding me of all the promises Tom hadn’t kept.

A sad woman sitting in an armchair | Source: Midjourney
Every time I asked him to put it together, it was always “tomorrow.” But tomorrow never came, and now here I was, ready to pop, exhausted, and feeling more alone than ever.
To him, assembling the crib was just another task on a never-ending list. To me, it was a vital part of preparing for the baby. One that had unintentionally turned into an ominous sign that I couldn’t rely on my husband to be a good father.