The labor was long and draining, but the moment I held my son, everything changed. His tiny fingers curled around mine, and I knew I’d do anything to protect him.
Weeks later, while I rocked him to sleep, my husband Juan said, “My mom’s visiting. She wants to spend a full day alone with the baby. She says he needs to learn to take a bottle.”
I paused. “He’s exclusively breastfed. He’s never been apart from me.”
“She says you’re being selfish,” Juan replied.
Later, his mother called, insisting, “Start bottle-feeding. He needs bonding time with family.”
“I’d love us to spend time together,” I said gently.
“Nonsense!” she snapped. “I raised five kids. Boys need their grandmother’s guidance.”
“I’m not a first-time mom. I have two daughters.”
“Well, boys are different,” she said.
Juan sided with her. “Maybe you’re too attached.”
