By the time I eased myself through my in-laws’ front door, I was eight months pregnant and walking like I’d strapped a bowling ball under my ribs. The house smelled like lemon cleaner and a hint of something warm from the kitchen—comforting on any other night, unnerving now. My husband’s parents had insisted on hosting; both our families had come. It should have been a soft landing before the storm of new-baby nights. Instead, the second my mother crossed the threshold—lips thinned into that ove