Our son spent several weeks under medical observation. I spent long hours sitting beside his incubator, gently placing my hand against the glass. Javier was always there with me. The experience changed him.

When I was discharged, Javier made a clear decision: we would no longer live in that house.

We rented a small apartment near the hospital. It wasn’t large or luxurious, but it was calm and safe. For the first time in months, I felt at peace.

Carmen tried to reach out afterward. She apologized and said she hadn’t realized how much pressure I was under. I listened, but I also understood something important—distance was necessary for healing.

Weeks later, our son finally came home. He was still tiny, but strong. Holding him, I realized how close we had come to losing everything.

This story isn’t about blame. It’s about what can happen when stress and emotional pressure are ignored, especially during pregnancy. Sometimes, harm doesn’t come from cruelty, but from lack of understanding.

I learned that protecting yourself isn’t selfish—and setting boundaries isn’t rejection. It’s care.Continue reading…