No one really warns you what a baby can do to a marriage. You prepare for exhaustion, not for resentment. You don't expect to feel irritated by the person you love most, counting who did what, replaying the same small arguments, feeling oddly alone while technically doing this together. I found myself quietly keeping score, annoyed over unfolded laundry, repeating fights that weren't really about the laundry at all.
Then I picked up How Not to Hate Your Husband After Kids by Jancee Dunn, and for the first time I felt... understood. Even the title felt like a small exhale. This isn't a dry marriage manual or a preachy relationship book. It reads like a sharp, funny, deeply honest friend grabbing you by the shoulders and saying, "You're not terrible. This season is just hard and fixable."
Dunn, a journalist, turns her reporting skills loose on her own marriage. She talks to therapists, child-development experts, and even divorce lawyers to answer the question so many couples quietly ask: Why did something so beautiful strain us this much and what can we do about it? What follows is reassuring, practical, and refreshingly realistic.
Lessons That Actually Changed Things:
1. The "Mental Load" Is Invisible but Heavy.
This was my biggest lightbulb moment. The problem isn't just chores, it's the constant mental tracking. Remembering appointments. Noticing what's missing. Planning, anticipating, managing. Carrying all that silently is exhausting. The book gave me language to explain this without anger-turning "You never help" into an honest conversation about shared responsibility.
2. Yes, You Might Need to Schedule Sex and That's Okay.
Spontaneous romance sounds great in theory. In real life, after parenting all day, it often doesn't happen. Scheduling intimacy felt awkward at first but it worked. It protected our connection instead of leaving it to chance, and strangely enough, it made us feel closer, not less romantic.
3. Say What You Need, Out Loud.
I used to hope my husband would just know when I was overwhelmed. Spoiler: he didn't. Dunn's advice is simple and effective, ask clearly and kindly. No sighing. No resentment. Just honesty. It wasn't about him not caring; he genuinely didn't see what I saw.
4. Learn to Fight Without Burning the House Down.
The book doesn't pretend conflict can be avoided. Instead, it shows how to argue better: no scorekeeping, no dragging up the past, no "you always" language. One tip we actually use? Step away for 20 minutes when emotions spike. It saved us from saying things we couldn't take back.
5. Guard the Friendship Beneath the Marriage.
Somewhere between diapers, routines, and survival mode, friendship gets buried. Dunn keeps bringing you back to this truth: at the core, you're friends. Laugh together. Talk about something other than logistics. Remember who you were before you became coworkers running a household.
This book didn't magically fix everything but it shifted the tone of our marriage. It replaced shame with clarity and frustration with tools. It reminded me that struggling after kids doesn't mean your marriage is broken; it means you're human.
