No sooner had we crossed the threshold of our home with our newborn than she settled in as if the space belonged to her. My husband, in his naiveté or out of filial duty, kept telling me she wanted to “support” us. But what should have been support became an invisible burden. She filled our home with unfamiliar faces, multiplying her visits when all we longed for was peace and quiet.
Silent, I withdrew. I absorbed my frustrations, burying them deep inside. The days stretched into an exhausting loop: feeding, changing, rocking… without even time to eat. My mother-in-law, who was supposed to help me, kept to herself, as if her role was simply to occupy the space.
