At 39 weeks pregnant, Lila is exhausted, in pain, and making every effort to maintain harmony in a home that is slowly becoming colder. Unexpected voices speak up for her when she has an outburst in the middle of the night that disturbs the peace. After everything is said and done, Lila is forced to confront the reality of love, family, and what it truly means to feel safe… both for herself and her child.
Right now, even though I am 27 years old and 39 weeks pregnant, my mind is still spinning with all that has happened over the last few days.
Let me take a step back.
I spent my childhood in foster care. I don’t know of any siblings or other relatives. When things got too hard or dark, there were no parents to call.
Most of my youth was spent as the girl responsible for carrying her own documents from school to school, packed in plastic bags.
I was taught at a young age to be quiet, to smile when I was scared, and to make myself small in a world that had no place for me.
In other words, when I first met Finn, it was like starting over.
He was the kind of person everyone loved, thirty years old and pleasant. He radiated confidence and was sure of himself, but most importantly, he had something I had never had: a family.
A big, friendly, and loud family.
The very first time we met, his mother, Nora, gave me a hug and brought me a homemade pie. When I was at my modest rented apartment, his father, Theo, encouraged me to call him by his first name and replaced the porch light without me asking.
“Love, you can call me Theo,” he said to her. “Lila. No need for formalities since we are family.”
It felt like I had been given a home I had never even dared to dream of.
I told myself, “Lila, maybe this is the end of the road.” “Maybe this is what it feels like to be safe.”
It has been two years since Finn and I got married. Things seemed to be going well back then. I would say he wasn’t perfect because he could be controlling and sometimes harsh when things didn’t go his way, but he laughed it off as honesty.
With a smirk, he’d say, “I don’t sugarcoat things, love. I’m straightforward, Lila. Not afraid to tell it like it is!”
Neither of us argued. I had spent my whole life trying to earn a place in people’s lives by avoiding conflict and arguments. I didn’t want to throw away what I had finally found.
Everything changed when I found out I was pregnant. It wasn’t sudden; it was gradual and hidden.
The first thing I noticed was his tone. When he saw his workout clothes were dirty, he would groan as if I had wasted his day. If he didn’t like the meal, he would stare for a moment before removing the dish.
“You forgot the sauce,” he’d say coldly. “Again. Honestly, Lila, what’s wrong with you? I had higher expectations.”
I made excuses for him, thinking maybe he was anxious about becoming a father or that this was his way of coping with stress. But the reasons became less convincing each week. Soon, I couldn’t sleep without hearing him complain that I was lazy. He would redo the towels in front of me if I folded them the way I liked.
One time, he said, “I’m not trying to nag. But is it really that hard to get it right?”
I reassured myself it was temporary. I thought once the baby arrived, he would soften and be nice again.
My husband’s parents came to visit me three days ago.
Nora brought soup, cookies, vitamins, and warm socks. Theo texted me asking about the snacks I wanted and if I had enough pillows.
“My granddaughter is coming! Whatever you need, love, just let us know.”
They had traveled from two counties away to be here for the birth. I felt relieved. Having them in the house made me feel protected, like a barrier between me and the Finn I no longer recognized.
During their visit, I never told them how Finn spoke to me. In fact, I was at a loss for words.
But my feelings surfaced when Theo came into the living room carrying a piece of chocolate cake.
“My family and I are so proud of you, Lila,” he said. “Love, you’re doing an excellent job.”
I nearly cried right there on the couch. I had never been noticed before.
Then came last night.
It was a terrible day for me. Even though my back hurt deep inside, my belly felt tight, and it seemed the baby had dropped lower. It was the kind of pain that crept up slowly and made walking difficult.
After making a simple spaghetti meal, I washed the dishes and went to bed early. Just get through tonight, I told myself…
I rolled onto my side, felt a strong kick, smiled, and closed my eyes. The baby kept kicking.
Then I heard it.
“Why aren’t my clothes folded? Lila?! And I asked you to have a black dress shirt ironed for tomorrow. Get up and do it right now!” Finn roared, his voice loud as a slap.
“What is going on? What are you talking about?” I blinked, confused.
“I told you to get up,” he said, his face close to mine. “Lila, you’ve been sleeping all day, right? I go to work, and when I come home, nothing is done?”
I sat up slowly. The baby’s weight pushed me forward, and my back hurt. I didn’t argue or defend myself. I moved barefoot with pain toward the laundry basket.
My fingers hovered over the clothes.
My job was just to fold them. And not only fold quickly, but also iron his shirt.
Then I heard footsteps.
Theo spoke loudly, “Sit down, Lila. Right now.”
I went numb.
I moved slowly.
Standing at the doorway, Theo looked ready to fight. His jaw was clenched, arms crossed, but his voice was steady.
He shouted, “Are you serious, talking to your pregnant wife like that?! What do you think you are, Finn?”
As he opened his mouth, Finn’s face started to flush.
He began, “Dad, this is my house,” in a protective tone.
Theo replied firmly, “No.”
When he entered the room, his eyes immediately focused on his son.
He told him, “You don’t have the right to say that tonight. It’s a shame you are folding your own clothes. Your wife is resting now. Your mother and I will stay here until the baby arrives. It’s clear you need a lesson on how to treat a person, especially the woman carrying your child.”
A silence fell over the room. Even though my legs were shaking, I sat back on the bed with one hand on my belly and the other across my lips.
I didn’t realize I was sobbing until my chest tightened and tears started flowing.
Though Theo’s voice remained calm, his displeasure was louder than any shout.
Nora appeared at the doorway, arms crossed and eyes on her son.
She whispered, “Finn, this is not okay. You haven’t seen me in a long time.”
Finn’s cheeks turned deep red with anger. His footsteps were loud as he walked down the hall. He grabbed the laundry basket, shouted something I couldn’t hear, and rushed out of the house.
When Nora returned, she brought a cup of hot chamomile tea. She didn’t speak at first; she just placed it on the nightstand and sat beside me as if nothing unusual had happened.
After pulling up a desk chair, Theo sat down and sighed softly.
When he looked at me, his voice was gentle, “Love. I have no idea what’s wrong with my son… But you have done nothing wrong. Do you hear me?”
I pursed my lips and nodded.
He said, “You are family. We will not let you go through this alone. We promise.”
It was a sincere message.
The next morning, Finn was barely audible. He moved through the house like a shadow, silent as his parents took charge.
Nora was humming in the kitchen, preparing bread and eggs.
I sat on the couch with one hand on my belly, sipping tea, while Theo vacuumed and dusted the living room.
Though he clearly resented it, Finn did chores like ironing clothes, cleaning the bathtub, and going grocery shopping.
That afternoon, I overheard a conversation between Theo and him in the hallway, unaware that I was eavesdropping just outside the bedroom door, holding my breath.
“This isn’t about laundry, Finn,” Theo said in a low but firm tone. “It’s about growing up. Having moral character. Are you the only stressed one? She’s carrying your child and running this home, and you yell at her like she’s a maid.”
There was a pause. I pictured Finn crossing his arms.
Theo continued, “You yelled at her like she didn’t matter, like she didn’t try. That’s over now. If you don’t stop this and become the man she needs, we will help raise the child without you.”
No response. Just silence.
That evening, I was in the living room watching Finn fold a basket of baby clothes. He didn’t look up. He sat next to me, rubbing my swollen feet, while Theo refilled my water glass.
In a quiet voice, he said, “I don’t know what to do.”
Nora replied softly, “You don’t need to know yet. Just rest. Feel safe…”
I nodded slightly.
I’m not sure what choice I will make in the end. I don’t know if this is an embarrassment for Finn or a turning point. But I do know this: for the first time in a long time, I felt noticed.
Safe and sound. Not alone.
That is enough for now.
That night, I went to the kitchen for water after everyone else was asleep. I could hear the creaking of the old house under my feet.
Theo was there, leaning against the counter, drinking tea from a chipped mug.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” he asked quietly.
I smiled and said, “My grandchild won’t stop kicking. It’s very close… I’m excited, but also… scared.”
He smiled back, “That’s a good sign. The kicks and the fear are normal. Even before Finn was born, I felt the same. For me, it was a roller coaster of emotions, but Nora was the one who endured it.”
The fridge hummed in the background as we sat quietly.
After a while, he said, as he poured me some milk, “You know, when Nora was carrying Finn, we went through a tough time together.”
I looked up, surprised.
“Lila, remember, I wasn’t always like this. For me, working hard and paying bills was enough. But your body changes, your patience thins, and your whole being transforms… and what happens if your spouse doesn’t go through it with you? It’s a lonely experience.”
I swallowed hard and said, “That’s exactly how it feels.”
“But I learned,” he nodded, “I had no choice. I came close to losing her. Then it was time for Nora’s parents to take her back home and raise the child with her. That’s when I realized I had to step up.”
A few tears slipped from my eyes.
“Just because you married Finn doesn’t mean you owe him forgiveness,” Theo said. “But if you ever decide to rebuild, we will be here for you. If not, then what?” He set down his cup. “We will be here. We will support you in every way we can.”
I couldn’t speak. I nodded, feeling gratitude I couldn’t express in words.
I didn’t cry when I went back to bed.