After I got pregnant, I suffered from severe prenatal depression and had to resign from my job.

My husband, John, frowned and told me not to worry. My mother-in-law, Grace, berated me for I was being overly delicate for carrying a "worthless baby". John's sister, Lily, scolded me for being a spendthrift, only interested in wasting her brother's money.

They nearly wrecked my life, so I bolted back to my parents' place that very night. Later, karma caught up with them. John lost his job, Grace's retirement plans fell apart, and Lily couldn't even afford a slice of bread.

It was only then they turned to me, begging for forgiveness. I walked away with my new husband, telling them to get lost.

——

From the moment I got pregnant, I was overwhelmed with anxiety, shortness of breath, and insomnia. The doctor diagnosed me with severe prenatal anxiety and advised me to quit my job and focus on my pregnancy.

This child was not easy to conceive, so I immediately went to my company and resigned. When John found out, he frowned and asked, "Why are you making such a fuss? What pregnant woman doesn't work?"

"You're just being fussy!" Grace was sitting nearby painting her nails and said sarcastically, "When I was about to give birth, I was still bent over in the fields harvesting rice, and I didn't even have a postpartum recovery period. I continued working right away."

"Unlike you, acting so delicate over a girl."

Lily sneered, "Mom, I think she's just trying to spend all my brother's hard-earned money. What a wasteful woman."

"Since she's carrying a girl, why not just divorce her?"

I was trembling with anger. This family lived off my generosity, staying in my home, and John's job was even arranged through my father's connections. But after Grace brought in a midwife who said I was having a girl, their attitudes shifted entirely.

At that moment, a slight pain shot through my belly, causing me to sit down in alarm. John huffed in irritation, 'Are you done with this melodrama? It's just pregnancy—why are you acting like it's the end of the world? Do you think you're a princess? Look at yourself!"

Grace and Lily watched gleefully, adding fuel to the fire, saying things like a woman needs to be disciplined to behave.

Crying, I said, "The doctor said I might miscarry if I keep working. Didn't I send you the diagnosis?"

"How do I know if you're really carrying a girl? If you miscarry, good riddance. You're so much trouble even before she's born!"

I was speechless. How could a father say such things? I grabbed my bag and stormed out, fuming.

As I shut the door, Grace yelled, "Look at that, all because you pamper her too much. No respect at all."

"It's so late, and she's still running out. In the old days, she would've been drowned!"

My eyes filled with tears.

Before marriage, I was cherished by my parents. Why did my life become like this after marriage?

Walking around the neighborhood, surrounded by vibrant plants, my mood gradually calmed down. I realized it had been ages since I last took a walk.

John grew up in a rural area in a single-parent family, with Grace and Lily depending on him. Finances were tight. To ease his burden, I worked hard and never asked for gifts, let alone outings.

Suddenly, I felt sorry for myself. My stomach growled, and I decided to treat myself to a good meal.

After a five-minute walk, I found a decent restaurant and felt much calmer after eating. Good food really does heal my soul.

With the baby on the way, I needed to create a good environment for her. Running away and fighting wouldn't solve anything. I took out my phone to call John, hoping to talk things out somewhere without Grace and Lily's interference.

I realized I had been out for almost two hours. There wasn't a single call or message from John. I couldn't help but feel disappointed, but I had chosen this path and had to keep going.

I dialed John's number, but no one answered after several attempts. I started to worry. What if something happened?

As I hurried home, I was met with Grace's piercing voice. "Oh, so you finally decided to come back! What kind of woman is out at this hour? Aren't you embarrassed?"

I tried to explain calmly, "The doctor said it's good for pregnant women to walk more. It helps with the baby's development."

She placed her hands on her hips, glaring at me. "Don't give me that nonsense! Out late at night, all dressed up? What if someone attacked you? You'd bring shame to my son!"

Just then, John came out of the bathroom. Seeing he was fine, I breathed a sigh of relief and looked at him hopefully, wishing he'd stop Grace's outrageous accusations. His mother spreaded such vicious rumors about his wife.

But John just said, "I thought you died out there. Turns out you're still alive."

"Mom's right. Can't you behave? Always complaining about stomach pains and dressing like a streetwalker. People might think you're selling yourself!"

My heart sank. I wore a loose maternity dress because my chest had grown with the pregnancy, and it was too hot. Yet, John accused me of dressing like a streetwalker.

The more I thought about it, the more wronged I felt. Distracted, I tripped and fell. Clutching my belly, I noticed a banana peel on the floor.

Before I could say anything, Grace grabbed my hair and yanked me up. "Get up and wash the dishes. Don't think you can slack off."

"If you're going to enjoy my son's things and just laze around at home, I'll make sure he gives you a good beating!"

My scalp hurt, and my belly ached. Dizzy and struggling, I couldn't resist. Grace shoved me into the kitchen and slammed the door, telling me to hurry up and wash.

I collapsed on the floor, holding my belly, unable to hold back my tears. It was the peak of summer, and the small, unventilated kitchen soon made me short of breath.

I crawled to the door and opened it, hoping to catch some air from the air-conditioned living room. But John stormed in.

"What do you think you're doing? Can't you just wash the dishes? Why open the door?"

"You're comfortable, but what about everyone else? Do you think you're the only one who feels hot?"

He shut and locked the door. Grace yelled from outside, "Which woman doesn't have kids? None of them have issues, but she's always uncomfortable. It's because you spoil her!"

I sat there in a daze, my head buzzing. John and I met two years ago. I had just graduated from college and was harassed by some thugs on my way home. John stepped in to protect me.

We ran into each other often after that, and he told me he had just graduated too. He said he had given up a high-paying job to repay his village for supporting his education. Moved by his gratitude, I asked my father to help him secure an investment.

He started pursuing me, and despite my parents' objections, I secretly married him. My belly pain returned, and I banged on the door, begging John to take me to the hospital.

He refused to open it and angrily told me to stop making a fuss and wash the dishes. Tears fell onto the floor as I got up, swallowing my nausea, and quickly washed the dishes.

When I knocked on the door again, John finally opened it, but not to take me to the hospital.

Grace and Lily followed John, watching the drama unfold. John wrinkled his nose in disgust, seeing me sweaty and tear-streaked.

"Can't you take a shower? You smell awful. What kind of woman are you?"

I didn't want to argue anymore. Leaning against the wall, I weakly said my stomach hurt and asked to go to the hospital.

Grace pursed her lips, "Tiana, you need to be more considerate. Your husband works hard all day, and instead of being understanding, you keep causing trouble. It's late, and you want to go out now?"

"If you don't like washing dishes, I'll do it. Please, stop making trouble for my son. As his wife, you should care for him. If you don't, I will."

Lily added, "John, if she doesn't want to do it, I can be the housekeeper. Don't be mad."

I was dizzy with pain and choking back tears, clutching John's arm, "Please, my belly really hurts."

He shoved me away, "Can you stop pretending? It's just washing dishes. Why so many problems?"

Grace chimed in, "John, tell Tiana, it's crying makes her belly hurt. When I had kids, I never had this issue. This is too strange."

John's face darkened, "She's faking it. Doesn't want to work or do chores. Don't pay attention to her. Let's see if she can actually hurt herself."

He dragged me to the bedroom and locked the door. I lay on the bed in pain, unable to get out. We lived on the 26th floor, and I could only pray that nothing would happen to my baby.

The next morning, John, Grace, and Lily were outside getting ready. I knocked on the door again, and Grace loudly said, "Ignore her. Let her think about her behavior."

After they left, I called a locksmith and an ambulance.

At the hospital, the doctor was stern. I had signs of a threatened miscarriage and needed immediate hospitalization.

Sweating with fear, I called John, but he yelled at me, saying I was being dramatic and wasting money.

Ignoring him, I focused on saving my baby. Gritting my teeth, I mustered all my strength. "I'm having a threatened miscarriage. Can you please come help me with the admission procedures? I—"

"Just let it happen! After all, it's a worthless baby!" He abruptly ended the call.

The nurse beside me looked on with sympathy and, after a moment, offered to assist me with the admission process.

I felt immensely grateful.

Once I was set up for an infusion, I finally felt some relief and drifted off to sleep.

When I awoke again, I could hear Grace's voice saying, "John, Tiana might think she's better than me because I come from the countryside, and that's why she's making such a fuss. I don't want you caught in the middle—let me go back home."

A surge of hope filled me. If Grace left, I'd finally gain some peace.

But to my disappointment, John flatly refused. "You're my mother; how can I let you go back to the countryside alone?"

I sighed, recognizing that while John had his merits, he was far too devoted to his mother—a true mama's boy.

I wanted to stop pretending to sleep, but what I overheard next left me in shock.