Before I tied the knot with my husband, Jack, I got on rather well with his parents. They werent flawless, but generally quite friendly. Since Jack was still living in their house at the time, Id often chat with his mum and dad whenever Id pop round. We had the odd squabbleover what to watch on the telly, mainlybut I always made an effort to keep the peace by siding with my mother-in-law. Everything trundled along nicely until the day of our wedding.
After the celebrations, we headed back to Jacks parents place, where they proceeded to ply me with food, insisting I needed to eat up and get healthy. At first, I laughed it off, but before long the comments became less jokey and more… relentless. About a month on, my mother-in-law dropped a comment about my supposed weight gain, despite the scales being firmly on my side. A few weeks after that, I found out I was pregnantabsolutely over the moon. I told Jack, of course, but asked him to keep it a secret from my family so we could surprise them later. Around the same time, we moved into our new flat.
As my bump grew, Jacks relatives started popping by with increasing frequency, all the while wringing their hands and fussing about my health. I found myself getting suspicious that Jack had let the pregnancy news slip, but he swore blind that everyone was just being caring and that it was all perfectly normal. Still, when he did finally spill the beans, my life took a rather dramatic turn.
My father-in-law launched a campaign to get me eating enough for a small army, and became convinced I should ditch my job or risk collapsing from exhaustion. Meanwhile, my mother-in-law couldnt keep her hands off my stomach, constantly commenting on how much it had grown (even when it plainly hadnt). They started turning up unannounced, sometimes more than once a day, bombarding me with, How are you feeling, love? at every opportunity. Slowly but surely, it dawned on me that they actually saw me as little more than a vessel or a glorified incubator, whose sole job was delivering their precious grandchild. My own needs and wishes didnt seem to factor into the equation at all. Looking back, it was clear theyd been trying to fatten me up from the very first meeting.
I confided my woes to Jack, but he just brushed off my concerns as utter nonsense. Feeling completely stranded and unsupported, I decided enough was enough and took matters into my own hands. That night, I packed our bags, sweet-talked my husband into changing the locks just in case, and booked us a holiday. The next morning, off we went, hoping that a quick escape would give me the peace of mindand the breathing roomI so desperately needed.
