During the period of the cold war, hubby was caught in a dilemma as to who to please.
In order to stop her son from having to prepare breakfast, mother took on the “all important” task of preparing breakfast without informing or discussing with any of us. At the breakfast table, mother would look at her son happily as he eats his breakfast and she’ll cast that reprimanding stare at me for having failed to perform my duty as a wife. To avoid the embarrassing breakfast situation, I resorted to buying my own breakfast on my way to work. That night, while in bed, hubby was a little upset and asked me: “LD, is it because you think that mum’s cooking is not clean that’s why you chose not to eat at home?” He then turned his back on me and left me alone in tears as feelings of unfairness overwhelmed me..
After some time, hubby sighed: “LD, just for me, can we have breakfast together at home?” I am left with no choice but to return to the breakfast table.
The next morning, I was having porridge prepared by his mother and I felt a sudden churn in my stomach and everything inside seem to be rushing up my throat. I tried to suppress the urge to throw up but I could not. I threw down the bowl, rushed into the washroom, and vomited everything out. Just as I was catching my breath, I saw mother crying and grumbling very loudly in her dialect, hubby was standing at the washroom doorway staring at me with fire burning in his eyes… I opened my mouth but no words came out, I really did not mean it.
We had our very first big fight that day; mother took a look at us, then stood up and slowly made her way out of the house. Hubby gave me a final stare in the eye and followed mother down the stairs.
For three days, hubby did not return home, not even a phone call. I was so furious, since mother arrived; I had been trying my best to put up with her, what else do you want me to do? For no reason, I keep having the feeling to throw up and I simply lost appetite for food, coupled with all the events happening at home, I was then at a low point in my life.
Finally, a colleague said: “LD, you look terrible; you should go and see a doctor.” The doctor confirmed that I was pregnant.
Now it became clear to me why I threw up that fateful morning, a sense of sadness floaded my soul through that otherwise happy news. Why didn’t husband, or his mother who had been through this before, thought of the possibility of this being the reason that day? At the hospital entrance, I saw my hubby standing there. It had only been three days, but he looked raggard.
I had wanted to turn and leave, but one look at him and my heart soften, I couldn’t resist and I called out to him. He followed my voice and finally found me but he pretended he doesn’t know me; he has that disgusted look in his eyes that cut right through my heart. I told myself not to look at him anymore, and hail a cab. At that moment, I have such a strong urge inside me to shout to my hubby: “Darling, I am having your baby!” and have him lift me up and spin me around in circles of joy as he’s fond of.