At eight months pregnant, I expected cravings and backaches—not waking up hungry because my husband, Mark, kept eating everything I prepped. He raided the kitchen nightly, finishing my meals and snacks, leaving me exhausted and frustrated.Despite repeated talks, he laughed it off, telling me to cook more or hide snacks. The final straw came when he devoured a big batch of chili I made to last us the week.

I broke down and called my sister, who urged me to talk to Mark’s mom. I did—and she took it seriously. That weekend, his parents showed up. His mom cooked and labeled food just for me, and his dad installed lockboxes on the pantry and fridge. That night, Mark found the food locked and a note: “Think of your pregnant wife—grab an apple instead!” He did. After a heartfelt talk with his parents, Mark realized how serious it was. He changed. He stopped the midnight raids, started cooking, and supported me more. Now, as we wait for our baby, we’re not just ready—we’re stronger. Sometimes, it takes a little intervention (and a fridge lock) to wake someone up.