When I told Josh I wanted a home birth, he was thrilled. But Elizabeth, his mother, was ecstatic. She immediately offered to help, insisting she knew exactly what I’d need. I hesitated, but eventually agreed, thinking it might mean a lot to Josh.
The big day came, and as I went into labor, Elizabeth’s behavior grew strange. She was nervous and kept popping in and out of the room. Soon, Josh discovered she had turned our living room into a party, with a dozen people celebrating as if it were a social event, complete with a “WELCOME BABY” banner. I was furious, and Josh demanded everyone leave.
Hours later, after the drama subsided and I held our newborn son, Elizabeth came in, apologetic and teary-eyed. She begged to see the baby, and I reluctantly allowed it. As she cradled him, her demeanor softened, and she promised never to overstep again.
Though I was still hurt, I eventually called her to help plan our son’s first party. She accepted, and during the event, she quietly supported us, finally understanding the kind of celebration we wanted. As she left, she thanked me, and I welcomed her back into our family with a smile.
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