The pain during my labor was unbearable, and the doctor suggested I get an epidural.

My mother-in-law, Lydia, refused, saying it might harm the baby.

My husband, Marcus Vance, was more concerned about the cost and wouldn't sign the consent form.

In the end, I endured a full day and night of excruciating pain before giving birth to our daughter.

…

They say a woman’s experience during childbirth reveals how her in-laws truly feel about her.

The agony I went through that day and night finally opened my eyes.

My in-laws couldn’t be trusted!

After giving birth, I felt utterly weak. I wasn’t like those fierce new moms online who would smack their husbands the second the baby arrived.

I looked at Marcus, lying next to me, snoring like a pig. If I could just give him a good slap, it would feel so satisfying.

That fierce woman online must have had the privilege of being pampered, right?

But as an orphan, I had nothing.

"Ee-yah…"

My daughter, lying in her crib beside me, stared up with wide eyes, babbling softly.

A warmth bloomed in my chest, and I couldn’t help but gently caress her soft, tender cheek with my fingertips.

"Ee-yah…"

She grabbed my finger with her tiny hand, her soft touch melting my heart.

Right. I had a daughter!

The next day, Lydia called Marcus, urging him to finalize the discharge papers.

It was obvious—she was only concerned about the hospital bills.

After learning I’d given birth to a daughter, Lydia left last night.

Marcus drove silently, not a word leaving his mouth from start to finish.

I sat there, holding our daughter, enduring the cramping pains in my abdomen.

Once we reached the apartment complex, Marcus got out of the car and walked toward the elevator without a word.

I stared at the two bags of luggage and saw a car approaching.

My face drained of color as I crouched down, groaning in pain, each moan worse than the last.

A car door slammed shut, and then I heard a woman’s surprised voice: "Mrs. Vance, what’s wrong?"

I turned to see her. "It hurts!"

She lived in the same building, on the same floor, in unit 2203. Her name was Sylvia Kwan, a strong, independent single woman.

Sylvia rushed over to help me. She glanced at Marcus, who had his back turned, seemingly understanding the situation. She shouted, "Mrs. Vance, you just gave birth! Where’s your husband? How could he leave you to carry the baby alone?"

Marcus turned around and hurried over, helping me up and taking our daughter from my arms. He gave Sylvia an awkward smile. "I was just about to call the elevator. I didn’t know Elara had already gotten out of the car."

Then, he turned to me, annoyed. "I told you to wait in the car!"

I hung my head in silence.

Sylvia, not pleased, snapped at Marcus, "Giving birth is like walking through the gates of hell. As her husband, you should be taking better care of her!"

She reached for the baby without hesitation, saying firmly, "You carry your wife, I’ll take the baby. She just gave birth—she can’t be walking around." Then she looked at the two bags of luggage by the elevator and muttered, "And where’s your mother? You let your wife give birth without any help from her?"

Marcus, flustered, finally picked me up and awkwardly smiled. "Well, my mom’s making chicken soup for Elara. I’ll go grab the luggage later."

"Right."

When we got home, there was no chicken soup waiting for me—just a package of instant noodles.

I quietly ate the noodles and then went to my room, holding my daughter.

Marcus didn’t bother to go back for the luggage, and the baby’s diapers were still there.

Once I changed her, I quietly opened the closet, took some of Marcus’s cotton undershirts, and cut them into pieces to use as diapers.

Our daughter seemed to really enjoy using them.

I tossed the used diapers into the bathroom sink.

Before long, Lydia’s shouting came from outside: "Elara, you lazy thing! Why haven’t you washed the baby’s diapers? You just throw them everywhere!"

“Bang…”

I looked up at Lydia, who stormed into the room with fury in her eyes, and calmly said, "The doctor said I can't touch cold water."

"Elara, you think you're so high and mighty, but you're just a worthless bastard no one wants. Bastards breed nothing but garbage, and you're no exception. You can't even touch cold water, tsk!"

I stared at her twisted, contorted face, feeling like I was looking at a demon. "So, you're saying your son is a bastard?"

Lydia's eyes bulged, "What did you say?"

My voice remained calm, without a hint of emotion. "Didn't you just say bastards breed garbage?"

"You...!" Lydia was enraged, reaching out to grab me.

I quickly spun away, dodging her.

I would never let her do that to me again.

Every time she pinched me until my skin turned bruised and swollen, I used to tell Marcus about it at first.

But Marcus would always brush me off, "My mom's like that. She's older than you, just let her be! Once she calms down, she'll stop."

Yeah, as if it was nothing but pinching pork.

Of course! It wasn’t her being pinched, so how could he know the pain?

Lydia's face twisted in disbelief. "You... you dare dodge me?"

I simply stared at her, silent.

"What's all the noise about? You don’t know I didn’t sleep a wink last night?"

I smirked, knowing she had slept like a log.

Lydia’s ferocious face suddenly softened, turning pitiful as if she was about to complain.

But then Marcus’s attention was drawn to the diaper in Lydia's hand. "This diaper looks so familiar..."

I turned my attention inward, focusing on my thoughts.

Ignoring the smell, Marcus leaned in for a closer look, then turned to glare at me. "Did you cut up my underwear to use as a diaper?"

"We ran out of diapers," I replied.

Marcus roared, "Do you have any idea how much that underwear cost?"

Of course, I knew. Marcus always preferred comfort, especially when it came to underwear. Each piece cost over a thousand.

Lydia, clearly unaware, asked, "Is it really that expensive, son?"

Marcus stared at the ruined underwear that I'd cut into pieces, his face filled with pain. "It cost over eighteen hundred! How can it not be expensive?"

Yeah, how could it be cheap when it was propping up my daughter's bottom?

Upon hearing this, Lydia's face contorted in fury, and she lunged at me.

I dodged again, but this time Marcus grabbed me, and with a sharp slap, pain shot through my cheek.

"You wasteful woman."

Lydia blocked my escape, and I felt repeated stabs of pain as she slapped me.

"Slap!"

I received another slap from Marcus, this time on my right cheek.

"Ah!"

The cry of my daughter echoed through the room, seeming to mirror my pain.

Feeling her distress, I pushed them both away and ran for the door.

I flung open the door and screamed for help, "Help! Help me!"

Soon, neighbors were rushing to their doors. "Who’s calling for help?"

I stumbled toward Mrs. Keller’s house next door, collapsing at her feet, crying, "Wuwu... Help me, my husband and Lydia are beating me!"

I lifted my burning, swollen face for her to see.

Mrs. Keller gasped, "My God, what happened to you?"

Marcus and Lydia, who had followed me outside, still wore vicious expressions.

But as soon as they saw the neighbors gathered in the hallway, they instantly deflated.

I cried out louder, "I just had a daughter, and they don’t like her. Wuwu..."

"What? You just had a baby?" Mrs. Keller exclaimed in shock.

"Yes, I remember just a few days ago, she was still pregnant! She just gave birth!"

"This is unbelievable. She's in her confinement period and they're still beating her?"

"How can anyone treat a woman like this, especially after she gave birth to a daughter? Even if they don’t like it, it’s no excuse for domestic violence!"

"These people are animals!"

...

Suddenly, the air was filled with accusations, and everyone looked at Marcus and Lydia with scorn.

Marcus denied it. "No, it’s not true!"

But on my swollen, bruised cheek, it only seemed pale and helpless.

Mrs. Keller helped me up. "Look at you, your face is swollen like this, it's just pitiful. And she’s still having his child? How can you do this to her!"

Lydia was furious, her neck stiffened, and she took on her usual unreasonable attitude. "We’re disciplining my daughter-in-law. What business is it of yours? Go away, all of you…"

With that, she stormed toward me.

Shivering all over, I hid behind Mrs. Keller, clutching her clothes like they were the only lifeline I had.

Sure enough, Mrs. Keller, feeling sorry for me, patted my shoulder. "It’s okay, sweetheart. Mrs. Keller is here to protect you today!"

I trembled in Mrs. Keller's arms.

Standing nearby, Mr. Keller stepped in front of Mrs. Keller, shouting angrily, "I dare you!"

Lydia flinched and took a step back, visibly intimidated by Mr. Keller. "What... what do you want to do?"

"What do I want to do?" Mr. Keller turned to Mrs. Keller. "Honey, call the cops!"

Marcus rushed forward, trying to stop him. "No, no…"

But as soon as he moved, several angry neighbors stepped in, blocking him.

In the end, the police were called.

As soon as they arrived, they scolded Marcus and Lydia.

When they turned to me, I cried out in pain, wailing.

Reluctantly, they had no choice but to take me to the hospital.

My doctor, Dr. Mira Chaw, was a woman who showed deep sympathy for me.

At my pleading, Dr. Chaw exaggerated my condition, insisting that I stay in the hospital for observation.

My daughter and I checked into the hospital, and I began my confinement there.

Lydia and Marcus, under the repeated warnings from the police, were told that if they abused me again, Marcus would be detained.

Lydia, though extremely reluctant, brought me meals three times a day, claiming that Dr. Chaw said hospital food and takeout with too much oil and salt were not suitable for a postpartum woman.

Postpartum women need nutritious meals, Dr. Chaw would occasionally come by to check on my food, sometimes even pointing out the menu to my mother-in-law, Lydia.

The other patients in the ward also kept an eye on Lydia. If my meals were even a bit too simple, they'd shake their heads in disapproval in front of Lydia.

After a few times, Lydia, embarrassed, dared not cut corners.

I stayed in the hospital for the full month of my confinement. I was pampered, plump and healthy, my milk abundant, and my daughter grew more and more beautiful and lively.

During this time, Marcus only came to visit me twice, each time under pressure from the hospital to pay outstanding fees. He came to settle the bills.

Every time he came with that look of sympathy mixed with forced generosity, I couldn't help but feel a dark sense of satisfaction. I knew the costs had to be high.

On the other hand, Mrs. Keller from next door came to visit me often, always bringing fresh fruit.

I had married Marcus, and due to my situation and the constant abuse from him and his mother, I felt so inferior and pitiful that I avoided neighbors.

Though Mrs. Keller lived next door, I barely knew her. Whenever we met, I would only nod, not even engaging in conversation.

But unexpectedly, that neighbor I had only nodded to gave me the greatest kindness of my life.

And Dr. Chaw, the patients...

It turned out that some things can't just be tolerated to bring understanding.

Some people, the more you tolerate them, the more they take advantage.

When the confinement period ended and I was discharged from the hospital, Marcus made the rare effort to come pick up me and our child.

As soon as I entered the house, I was met with a chaotic mess, a home that looked like a garbage dump.

Lydia was lounging on the couch, legs stretched out, watching TV. The spot under her was probably the only area that wasn’t dirty.