I often find myself wondering if it’s my sensitivity or the reality of the situation, but since becoming a daughter-in-law over a year ago, I still feel a pang of sadness every time I look at our dinner table. I never imagined that my life with my son could be so different simply because of my husband’s presence at mealtime.
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Here’s the situation: whenever my husband is home for dinner, the table is filled with fish, meat, sour soup, stir-fried dishes, and more—a proper meal like any other family. But on days when it’s just my mother-in-law and me, the meal becomes so simple that it breaks my heart. Sometimes, it’s just a bowl of bland sour soup with a few tomato slices and a plate of boiled vegetables. I’ve been surprised many times but never dared to ask why.
Once, I prepared some extra dishes, but before I could serve them, she said:
– “Wait for Minh to come home so we can all enjoy it together.”
Her words stopped me in my tracks. I thought my son and I deserved a decent meal, but her comment made me hesitate, and I didn’t dare add more food. Another time, I bought fresh fish from the market and planned to cook it, but she remarked:
– “We two can eat anything, just get by. Save the good stuff for when the whole family is here.”
Her tone wasn’t harsh, but I sensed her disapproval, as if I was doing something wrong. I’m an introverted person and still new to being a daughter-in-law, so I didn’t want to upset her. I know she’s not easy to please and holds grudges, so I didn’t dare disagree. I ended up eating whatever she prepared, even though it left me unhappy.
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My husband and I have been married for just over a year. I’m still in my postpartum period, recovering slowly while exclusively breastfeeding our newborn. My husband works far away, with an unstable job, and is burdened by a large debt from previous business failures. Our finances are tight, and since I’m not working, we rely entirely on him and my mother-in-law. Each month, we contribute only 400,000 VND for utilities, while she covers all other expenses.
I’m grateful for her support, but my biggest worry is the nutrition for my baby and me. Breastfeeding means my diet directly affects my milk supply, which is my baby’s only source of nourishment. Thinking about my child, I feel anxious and sad, but I don’t know what to do.
One day, my husband sent me a photo of grilled meat from a night out with friends and asked:
– “Have you eaten yet, honey?”
I couldn’t hold back and sent him a photo of my meal: a bowl of watery sour soup and a small plate of salty shrimp stir-fry.
Looking at the photo I sent him, I felt a lump in my throat and couldn’t bring myself to say more. I didn’t blame him, as he’s working hard to provide for us, but the sadness welled up inside me.
Another day, our meal was just a plate of boiled water spinach, with the water used as soup and the greens stir-fried. I’m not a picky eater, but thinking about my breastfeeding baby made my heart heavy.
Once, I gathered the courage to speak up:
– “Mom, I’m breastfeeding, so maybe we could add some fish or meat to help with my milk supply. Eating like this might not be enough…”
Before I could finish, she frowned:
– “We eat what we have. You don’t contribute to the food expenses, so don’t make demands. If you want better food, go earn money yourself instead of freeloading and complaining.”
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I was stunned by her blunt words, which cut deep into my heart. I know our finances are tight, but I’m her daughter-in-law and the mother of her grandchild, not an outsider. I just wanted a little extra nutrition for my baby, not luxury.
After that, I stopped asking for anything. But the issues didn’t end with food. My mother-in-law is extremely frugal, scrutinizing every penny. My baby is often sick with a runny nose and cough due to weather changes, but she refuses to take him to the doctor.
– “Kids getting runny noses is normal. Going to the hospital wastes money on medicine. Just steam him with perilla and chives leaves.”
I worry about my baby but don’t dare go against her, so I secretly use saline drops for him.
The same goes for his clothes. Relatives sent over some hand-me-downs, and she was thrilled, saying:
– “Kids grow fast, so wearing old clothes is fine. Buying new ones is wasteful.”
I don’t mind hand-me-downs, but some items are frayed, faded, or even dirty. When I wanted to buy him a few new outfits, she dismissed me:
– “We’re in debt, and you’re still being extravagant! My grandchild won’t die from wearing old clothes.”
On hot days, I worried about my baby getting heat rash and wanted to turn on the air conditioner for him to sleep better, but she refused:
– “The air conditioner uses too much electricity. A fan is enough.”
My baby sweated all over and cried all night, but she still wouldn’t turn it on, telling me not to spoil him.
Bathing him was another issue. I wanted to use baby bath products to keep him clean and fresh, but she insisted on bathing him with herbal water:
– “Soap is full of chemicals, wasteful and not as good as traditional herbal water.”
Once, my baby broke out in a rash all over his body, and I suggested taking him to the doctor, but she snapped:
– “Why waste money at the hospital? Bathing him with starfruit leaves for a few days will clear it up.”
Seeing my baby scratch his itchy, red skin made me cry, feeling both heartbroken and powerless.
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I’ve endured this for too long, but there’s a limit to how much I can take. I can’t let my baby suffer any more. One afternoon, when she scolded me for buying a small bottle of baby wash, I quietly packed our essentials and took my baby to my parents’ house. I couldn’t stay silent any longer.
I’m not running away or abandoning my husband, but I needed to remove my baby from an environment that’s draining us both physically and emotionally. I want him to eat well, wear clean clothes, sleep comfortably with air conditioning when it’s hot, and see a doctor when he’s sick.
I texted my husband, explaining everything. I told him I couldn’t bear being looked down on, called a “freeloader with demands,” or watch my baby suffer because of her extreme frugality. I needed to stay at my parents’ house for a while to recover and care for my baby better.
My husband read my message but didn’t reply. It’s been over a week since we left, and neither he nor my mother-in-law has visited. I’m unsure if my decision was right. I never wanted my child to suffer because of his parents’ actions.
Shared by reader minhan…
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