While I was feeding our newborn son, my husband failed to save any food for dinner.
My world underwent a profound and difficult transformation five weeks ago when I became a mother.
My son became the focal point of my universe with his small fingers and gentle sighs. However, my mother-in-law cast a shade over the joy of our small family amidst this new and overwhelming love.
She set up shop in our living room, turning it into her base camp as soon as we brought our son home. According to my husband, who claimed she was here to support us throughout these early stages of parenthood, her intentions may have been excellent. But her presence soon turned into yet another cause of anxiety. She flooded our house with guests, adding to the mayhem instead of calming it down. Nevertheless, for the interest of peace, I held my tongue and remained silent rather than face the situation.
In the never-ending cycle of feeding, changing diapers, and putting my son to sleep, I hardly had time for myself and frequently went for hours without eating. My mother-in-law didn’t offer to help with the baby, even though she said she was there to cook. After a while, I was hungry and tired, and I hoped that at least I wouldn’t have to worry about food.
That last glimmer of gratitude I had for her alleged assistance was dashed last night. I expected to find a plate saved for me when I came out of the nursery after a long night of nursing, but instead I found my husband uninterested and his mother completely disdainful.
Deeper than any physical hunger I experienced was the coldness in her voice when she told me there was no food left because she thought I wasn’t hungry. My frustration erupted at that very moment. The ensuing heated and acrimonious fight exposed the profound cracks in our family’s dynamics.
My husband’s support of his mother and his indignation at my response made it very evident that I was fighting this battle alone. He even expected me to do the dishwashing on top of everything else. I decided to leave because I felt completely abandoned and invisible, taking sanctuary in my mother’s house. In sharp contrast to the chaos I left behind, I discovered peace and compassion there.
