I dreaded coming home tonight. When I got to work, I tried to message her, but she wasn't interested in speaking to me. She was angry at me and cut the chat off before we could have a conversation. She said before ending the chat that she was "cleaning your stupid house so you could be comfortable while you're sick." Later in the day, I called her multiple times, but she didn't pick up the phone. After work around 6pm before going home, I even logged into my computer remotely, loaded up iTunes radio, and played dance music at the loudest setting to get her attention, but she did not respond. After calling her many times again, I got worried that maybe something chos v'sholom happened to her. Maybe she snapped from postpartum depression. Maybe the unthinkable happened. I kept ringing her phone, and just before I was going to call her mother, our neighbors, and the police to check in on her, she picked up. She was cold and unemotional. She said she was still angry at me and was not interested in talking to me.
I came home to a quiet house. Nobody greeted me hello (well, nobody does anyway except my son when he's up past his bedtime), and the house was silent. I walked in, saw that the house looked markedly cleaner, put down my things, cleaned out my coffee cup and my lunch containers, and I took out four bags of trash with two hands. When I came back in, I saw that the oven was on and that she placed two pieces of fish in for us to eat. That calmed me a bit.
Really this morning's fight was an escalation from me nicely asking her to please pay attention to cleaning up after herself since we're in post-birth mode, and after she pulled an attitude, it escalated into me calling her a slob. Really I just wanted us to put more of an effort together in keeping the house livable before we got back on our feet.