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I saw my eight-month pregnant wife standing at the kitchen sink at 1:47 a.m., her shoulders trembling, her hands submerged in cold, greasy water. The house was silent—too silent for a home that never seemed to sleep. My mother’s voice still echoed faintly in my head from earlier that evening: “A good wife doesn’t complain. She proves her worth.”

I saw my eight-month pregnant wife standing at the kitchen sink at 1:47 a.m., her shoulders trembling, her hands submerged in cold, greasy water. The house was silent—too silent for a home that never seemed to sleep. My mother’s voice still echoed faintly in my head from earlier that evening: “A good wife doesn’t complain. She proves her worth.” Read Post »

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