When I called Robert, all I received were insults.
I couldn't reach him, and I felt too ashamed to call my parents for help.
I had no choice but to borrow money from friends to pay the hospital bills.
After returning home, I had to learn how to care for the baby by following online tutorials.
With no food left in the house and no money, I resorted to cooking expired instant noodles.
This continued until his family returned from their vacation.
But they still didn't leave me alone.
They forced me to do housework during my postpartum recovery and to pack parcels to support the family.
When they found out that my difficult labor had left me unable to have more children, they publicly cursed and berated me on the street.
They even laid hands on me.
It was after this incident that I seriously began considering divorce.
But I didn't have a penny to my name, and Robert had already transferred all our money to his mother.
Divorcing him would mean walking away with nothing, and without the means to support my baby, I had to put my plans on hold.
I hadn't expected that my continuous concessions would only lead to further humiliation.