Jenna had always known motherhood would be demanding. Friends told her about sleepless nights, piles of laundry, and the endless cycle of feeding, changing, and soothing. She thought she was ready. She even believed that amidst the exhaustion, joy would outweigh it all.
But reality was harsher than she imagined. Nights stretched endlessly as her newborn woke every hour. Days blurred together in a haze of chores that only seemed to multiply. Meals were rushed, laundry never seemed to end, and the house—though tidy—felt more like a cage of responsibilities than a home. On the outside, Jenna looked like she was managing. Inside, she was falling apart under the weight of trying to be everything at once.
Her husband, John, noticed her exhaustion but didn’t fully understand it. Wanting to help, he suggested his mother move in temporarily. Jenna agreed, hoping the extra support would ease the strain. But instead of peace, their home became chaotic.
Within days, the quiet house turned into a constant gathering spot. Relatives and neighbors dropped in regularly, filling the rooms with chatter and laughter—noise Jenna could not handle while trying to soothe a newborn. She felt more invaded than supported.
The breaking point came one evening. After hours of calming her baby, Jenna finally made it downstairs, hungry and drained, only to find the kitchen cleared out. Dinner had already been eaten. Her mother-in-law casually remarked, “Well, you didn’t come down, so we assumed you weren’t hungry.”
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