Sarah looked stunning in this navy blue dress that perfectly accentuated her growing belly.
She was really looking forward to dinner, having spent the afternoon baking Jessica’s favorite lemon tart, which she had made from scratch as a surprise.
This is the type of restaurant where a dinner for eight people can easily cost between $800 and $1,000.
But I told my mom she could order whatever she wanted.
At first everything seemed normal.
We sat in the private dining room, looked over the menu, and engaged in light conversation.
Marek’s parents are nice people. His father is a retired postman. His mother was a school secretary.
They were a bit overwhelmed by the elegant atmosphere, but tried to adapt.
Sarah was talking to Mark’s mother about teaching when the conversation took an unexpected turn.
The waiter came to take our drink order, and Sarah asked for sparkling water with lemon.
My mother immediately frowned and said, “Oh yes, that’s true. Now you’re not allowed to drink anything that gives you pleasure.”
This was said in a mock-sympathetic tone that gave me goosebumps, but Sarah just smiled and said she didn’t mind the water.
Then Jessica joined the conversation.
“You know, Sara, maybe you should consider switching to plain water. I read that carbonated drinks are not good for the baby.”
Sarah politely explained that her doctor had said that sparkling water was not a problem, but Jessica insisted.
“Well, I just think it’s better to be safe than sorry. A mother should be willing to sacrifice everything for her child.”
I saw Sarah’s jaw muscles tense, but she just nodded and changed her order to plain water.
Mistake number one.
While we were waiting for our appetizers, my mother started talking about how elegant the restaurant was and how nice it was to have a real family dinner in a restaurant of such high standards.
She looked at Sarah, constantly emphasizing these words, and I started to get nervous.
However, the real fireworks began only when the food arrived.
Sarah ordered the seafood risotto, and the portion was quite large. She had eaten about half of it before suddenly turning pale and excused herself to go to the bathroom.
Nausea associated with pregnancy can occur at random times, and she suffered from it throughout the second trimester.
She was gone for about ten minutes, and when she returned she looked better but said she needed a break from eating.
Then the mother struck.
“You know, Sara,” her mother said loudly enough for everyone at the table to hear, “if you get sick, you can eat in the bathroom. It’s Jessica’s special day, and we’re all dressed up for a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant.
It became deathly quiet at the table.
Mark’s parents looked shocked. Mark himself stared at his plate.
Jessica nodded in agreement, as if her mother was absolutely right.
I felt my blood pressure rise, but before I could say anything, my mother continued.
“Pregnant women really don’t belong at elegant tables if they can’t behave themselves. It’s a shame for everyone.”
Sarah’s face turned bright red. She looked as if she had been hit.
But mom wasn’t finished yet.
“Look around this room. It’s a fancy place. People come here to have fun, not to watch someone with a green face run to the bathroom.
Then Jessica decided to take it a step further, with a mischievous smile on her face.
She said, “Mom’s right. She’s making everyone feel uncomfortable with her condition. Maybe she should have stayed home since she hated being in public.”
I looked around the table.
Marek’s parents looked as if they wanted to disappear underground.
Mark continued to stare at his plate like a coward.
Mom and Jessica looked at Sarah with satisfaction, as if they had just put her in her place.
Sarah had tears in her eyes, but she kept her cool. She started apologizing, which only made me angrier.
Here’s my pregnant wife apologizing for morning sickness because my family treated her like garbage.
But I didn’t explode.
I didn’t scream.
I didn’t make a scene.
Instead, I did something that probably surprised everyone, including Sarah.
I smiled.
I stood up quietly, walked over to Sara’s chair and offered her my hand.
“Come on, honey,” I said quietly. “Let’s go home.”
Sarah looked at me with surprise and relief.
She took my hand and I helped her get up.
I grabbed her purse and the cake she had brought, then turned to the table.
“Enjoy your meal,” I said, still smiling. I hope this reaches you.
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