Chapter 1 - The Unthinkable Heat
I wish I could say I understood what was happening the second I walked into the kitchen.
I didn’t.
For one frozen moment, my brain refused to connect the heat pouring into the room with the sound of my baby crying.
Then I saw the oven.
My mother was standing in front of it like she was protecting something precious instead of trapping my newborn inside.
I screamed at her to move.
She turned on me with a look I had never seen before and insisted the baby was cold because of the chills.
She kept saying heat would drive the sickness out.
Every second she talked, my baby’s cries became more desperate.
I lunged toward the oven, but my mother shoved herself between me and the door.
That was when my husband came running in.
He had heard me screaming from the other room.
The moment he understood where our baby was, his entire expression changed.
He didn’t argue about her theory.
He didn’t waste time trying to convince her she was wrong.
He went straight for the oven.
My mother exploded.
She started knocking things over and smashing whatever she could reach, shouting that we were ruining the treatment.
She planted herself in front of the oven and fought to keep my husband from opening it.
She just kept repeating that the baby needed a little longer.
I remember staring at her and realizing this wasn’t an argument anymore.
My own mother was actively stopping us from reaching our newborn.
My husband told her once, firmly, to move.
She refused.
He stepped to one side.
She moved with him.
He tried the other side.
She blocked him again.
Behind her, our baby screamed in pure agony.
Something in me snapped into focus.
I stopped pleading with my mother and grabbed my phone.
My hands were shaking so badly I nearly dropped it, but I managed to call 911.
The dispatcher started asking questions.
I answered as fast as I could while my mother shouted over me that everyone was overreacting.
My husband looked at me.
Then he looked at the oven.
My mother spread her arms across the door as if her body could keep him away from our child.
He told me to call whoever I needed to call, because he was getting our baby out.
And this time, when he moved toward her, he wasn’t asking permission.
He grabbed her shoulders and forcefully shoved her out of the way.
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My mother shrieked in absolute rage and grabbed the heavy cast-iron skillet resting on the stove.
Before my husband could even reach the oven handle, she swung the heavy metal pan directly at the back of his head.
