I was touched when my mother-in-law gifted us a wonderful mattress. She was never very affectionate, so this lovely gesture seemed like reconciliation. It was like sleeping on a cloud, and for the first time in years, I woke up pain-free.
Amazingly, I was pregnant a month later. It seemed like a miracle after years of infertility. My husband and I were ecstatic, and the mattress became a valued emblem of our new voyage.
After our kid was delivered, we napped and cuddled on the mattress. Life was perfect until our baby peed on it. I took off the lid to clean it, but what I found changed everything.
My spouse froze and became an alarming scarlet as we strained to raise the hefty lid. Hidden under the mattress cover were terrifying bunches of dry herbs, weird powders, and a little, deformed doll wrapped in rags.
What’s this? I shakily asked.
My hubby didn’t reply. He carried the mattress outside and got a can of gas from the garage. He lit it on fire before I could stop him.
WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I shrieked as the mattress burned.
He looked at me grimly. You shouldn’t have utilized this mattress, Hon. I suspect my mother hid something harmful within.
My stomach sank. “You mean what?”
“My mother has always had odd rituals. She trusts charms and spells for fertility. I assumed she left that behind, but she utilized the mattress to ‘help’ us conceive. It’s unknown what she placed in there, but I can’t risk injuring you or the baby.”
I was scared and betrayed. So she done this without informing us? She *used* us?
He tightened his hands and nodded. “She probably thought she was helping us, but this is too much. It’s not her call.”
The fire burned for hours, leaving ashes. Knowing something so private had been messed with without my consent made me uncomfortable.
That night, my husband faced his mother. She admitted to hiding “fertility charms” in the mattress to “help” us conceive. She was enraged when he expressed how we felt, blaming us of spoiling her “gift.”
We stated her behaviors were inappropriate. Our attention switched to the joy of our growing family after weeks of anger and misery.
Looking back, I’m glad my spouse spoke up. We celebrated our pregnancy miracle, not someone else’s. We learned the importance of setting boundaries and that well-intentioned gestures might go too far.
