How dare you throw a pregnant girl out of your house?
My husband’s family had spent their lives working at a factory in the little town of Ashford. From the company, they received two flats in the same building. After tying the knot, my partner, Oliver, and I settled into one of the flats, while his mother, Margaret, and his teenage sister lived in the other. This familial harmony turned into a nightmare when I discovered the betrayal that nearly shattered my dream of motherhood.
Oliver and I were in no hurry to start a family. I was the eldest of four, raised in a bustling household, so responsibility was something I understood from a young age. Furthermore, we were both university students, living modestly. Margaret supported our decision to wait for children, and I saw her as an ally, unaware of the devastating blow she was preparing behind my back.
After graduation, Oliver landed a well-paying job. We renovated our flat, bought a car, and thoughts of children began to invade our minds more frequently. Margaret insisted that a baby should be planned and recommended a doctor, Dr. Eleanor Finch. I underwent tests, and she dealt me a crushing blow: I needed serious treatment, or I wouldn’t be able to carry a child. I went through a series of procedures, swallowing pills, but the results remained bleak. Dr. Finch prescribed a new regimen, and I dutifully followed her instructions, tormented by the fear of never becoming a mother.
During this time, Oliver’s sister, Jessica, became pregnant at just 19. The child’s father was my younger brother, Liam. He refused to marry her, claiming he was too young for family life. Margaret, seething with rage, packed Jessica’s belongings and sent her to live with us. “You must care for her and cater to her every whim!” she decreed. Unfairness washed over me. Why should I pay for my brother’s mistakes? But Oliver sided with his mother, blaming Liam and, indirectly, me. I swallowed my resentment, but inside I was boiling.
With Jessica’s arrival, our home transformed into a battlefield. She was moody, anxious, and found fault in everything: the meals, the cleanliness, the shopping. I yielded, trying to appease her, yet nothing satisfied her. Margaret visited nearly every day, supporting her daughter and berating me. One day, when I refused for the third time to clean the floors in Jessica’s room, she unveiled a terrible truth: “Mother was right to send you to Dr. Finch. She convinced you that you can’t have children!”
I froze, unable to believe my ears. Had Margaret truly conspired to rob me of my chance to become a mother? I rushed to confront her. Margaret stood her ground: “You’re too impulsive, it’s too soon for you to have children. Jessica will soon be a mother, and you and Oliver need to help her with the baby. You can think about your own children later!”
Rage consumed me. Returning home, I ordered Jessica to pack her things and go back to her mother. Margaret burst in right behind her, yelling: “How dare you kick a pregnant girl out? You have no heart!”
We screamed at one another, oblivious to Oliver’s return. He was stunned. Normally, he sided with his mother and sister, but something clicked this time. He demanded verification of Margaret’s claims. She denied everything, but Oliver insisted I obtain my test results and go to another clinic. There, I was hit with shock: I was perfectly healthy, there were no barriers to pregnancy. Everything Dr. Finch had said was fabrications.
Oliver and I sought out the head doctor at the clinic where Dr. Finch worked. He was appalled by her actions and begged us not to file a complaint, promising to resolve the issue. Soon, we learned she was fired for breaching medical ethics. Truth had triumphed, but the pain from Margaret’s betrayal lingered.
Two months later, Jessica gave birth to a son. Liam, seeing the baby, softened. Now he begs Jessica for forgiveness and tries to persuade her to live together. They’re attempting to mend their relationship, but I watch skeptically—my brother has caused too much pain.
Margaret has yet to forgive me. When we meet, she shoots venomous looks my way but remains silent—Oliver has threatened to cut off her financial support if she dares insult me. I am pregnant, and he stands firmly by my side. Margaret must tolerate me, yet her silent hatred fills the air. I feel stronger than ever. My family consists of Oliver, our future child, and me. No one can take away my right to be a mother.