Seven months pregnant, my belly was heavy, and every step was slow. Yet my mother-in-law – Mama Lani – never let me rest. Early in the morning, she asked me to carry a 5-gallon water jug ​​from the yard into the house, even though she saw that I had to hold onto the wall to keep my balance. In the afternoon, she told me to climb up the wooden attic to search through the pile of miscellaneous items in the warehouse – all things that no one used.

I tried to do it, but my body was tired and aching, so I politely refused a few times. Each time, Mama Lani not only did not sympathize but also frowned:

“When I was pregnant with Marco, I did everything, no one served me! Pregnancy is not a disease, so why are you weak!”

I bowed my head in silence, not wanting to make a fuss. What annoyed me most was her habit after every argument: she went into her room, picked up her phone and wrote a long post on Facebook complaining about her “lazy, unreasonable daughter-in-law”. Friends and relatives rushed in to sympathize with her; and I was branded as an unfilial daughter-in-law.

My husband, Marco, was away on a business trip, and he only comforted me over the phone, telling me to “be patient with Mama.” I gritted my teeth and endured, thinking that it would be better after giving birth in a few months. But one night, while scrolling through Facebook, I saw a new post from Mama Lani:

“My daughter-in-law only knows how to lie around, doesn’t do any housework, she must think she’s a queen!”

Attached was a photo of me resting, my pregnant belly clearly visible. I was stunned, and humiliation welled up. The coldest thing was a comment from a strange account:

“Balae, let her reveal her true nature, then we’ll figure it out!”

Why did she call balae? I secretly asked my sister, who was tech-savvy, to track down that account. The result left me speechless: it was Tita Hilda, the mother of Tess, Marco’s ex-girlfriend. It turned out that Mama Lani and Tita Hilda were still in touch; Not only that, they were plotting to smear me to force Marco to divorce, then “clear the way” for Tess to come back.

I searched through old messages on Marco’s phone (the day he left them at home). I was shocked to discover a chat between him and Tess from a few months ago. In it, he said… – when I was pregnant. Tess blamed Marco for “cheating”, insisting that she was the right person. Even more frightening, Mama Lani proactively texted Tess, promising to “arrange” for Tess to come back, in return Tita Hilda would support a large sum of money (saying it was to help with a deposit to buy a house/funds to open a shop) for her. The Facebook posts, the times I was forced to do heavy work… were all plans to discredit me, exhaust me, even endanger the fetus, creating an excuse for my husband’s family to despise me and kick me out.

I quietly gathered evidence: screenshots of posts and comments, saved messages between Marco and Tess, and even a recording of a call between Mama Lani and Tita Hilda (my sister instructed me to record a call to her phone when she accidentally put it on speaker).

When Marco returned, I laid it all out in front of him. He was shocked, not believing that his mother had done that. But when confronted, Mama Lani bowed her head and admitted. She said she did it because she thought Tess “deserved more” than her son and because of the promised money from Tess’s family.

Marco immediately cut off contact with Tess, demanded that Mama Lani apologize to me, and deleted all the posts. But I knew that the wound in my heart was too deep. I held my pregnant belly, looked out the window of our house in Caloocan, and told myself:
No matter what, I will protect my child. No conspiracy – even if it’s “for my son” or “for my honor” – will be allowed to destroy the happiness of my child and me.

From that day on, I set clear boundaries:

No heavy work (watering cans, climbing stairs) until the doctor gives me the go-ahead.

All posts that are insulting must be removed and a public apology must be made to the family.

All communications with my husband’s ex: absolutely no more.

If it happens again, I will work with the Barangay/Women’s Protection Office (VAWC) with evidence.

Someone may say I am “tough”. But in the seventh month of pregnancy, being steadfast is not about winning or losing – it is about preserving the little life that is growing inside me every day. And with Marco, I am straightforward: love is not measured by “forbearance”, but by him standing on the right side, helping me keep our child safe and respecting his wife.