When In-Laws Become a Threat: Navigating Pregnancy, Toxic Family, and Boundaries

We got pregnant the first cycle we tried, and no one was more surprised than me! While I firmly believe that if you are going to have unprotected sex, especially in your fertile window, you should be prepared and ready for pregnancy, I in no way thought the first time would be it for us.

My first clue was smelling bacon and immediately throwing up. Just thinking about bacon could make me dry heave! Then none of my bras fit, and I started crying about everything. I know all pregnant women say that, but Gas Pedal had me in tears, and I’ll spare you the emotional meltdown I had when I discovered that hot drip coffee is the most disgusting thing in the world.

What took me most off-guard, though, was my response to officially discovering the little life in me.

I sat on the toilet, sobbing, and brokenly asked my bewildered husband, “Do we have to tell Kevin and Lori?”*

In the summer of 2024, my in-laws reached out to TR and asked if they could come spend a weekend out here with him. There was something in their tone and in their words that communicated this sentiment was not extended to me. We heard the Lord prompting us to use this opportunity as Joseph had with his brothers in Genesis.

TR decided to give them four hours on a Saturday afternoon and to show up without me. I was working at a coffee shop nearby and should my in-laws demonstrate any interest in me (i.e. where’s Ava, how is Ava, etc.), TR was going to invite them to said coffee shop.

In the nearly five hours that my husband was with my in-laws, I was not mentioned. When TR came to pick me up, he remarked, “They acted like I was single, like you don’t even exist in my life. It was weird.”

We were both stunned by their rudeness. Not surprised, but stunned they let their narcissistic self-image slip up so obviously. 

Summer 2024 is also when we were clearing pregnancy with all my doctors. Naturally, this experience entered our family planning conversation at some point, and it cemented some of our fledgling beliefs about the role TR’s biologicals** would have in the lives of our future children.

We didn’t establish firm boundaries or make clear decisions, though.

At the beginning of September 2024, my in-laws invited themselves out to Kansas City again, inviting both of us to a Royals game.

We were pleased that I was included, and I hoped it signaled a sign of movement toward reconciliation.

At the time, we suspected I was pregnant. See the above description of my first symptoms! Looking back, I’m grateful we didn’t yet definitively know.

It wasn’t a great experience.

There was no evidence of a desire to move toward reconciliation, and I ended up being left out of all conversations, ignored for the majority of the day, and feeling like the undesired “add-on,” like I was included only because they wanted TR to be there.

It had been two years since my in-laws had laid eyes on me, and nearly that long since they’d spoken to me, and despite my best efforts, we didn’t have a single conversation in those six hours.

As we walked out of the stadium, my mother-in-law said to me, “Well, Ava, it’s been so good to see you.”

“Yeah!” I said, “It’s been what? Two years since you’ve seen or spoken to me?”

Accountability is my in-laws’ least favorite thing.

In my story, the ambiguity regarding relationship with my in-laws drastically affected my newly impregnated self.

See, the second I knew I was a mom, my world was rearranged. My number one priority became the safety of this precious child. Physical, yes, but emotional, mental, and spiritual, too. And the biggest threat to my child were my toxic in-laws, this child’s abusive grandparents. The thought of having to allow people who spew lies about this child’s father, disfigure the personhood of this child’s mother, and who do not even believe in unconditional love to hold the most innocent, pure, and unblemished creature destroyed me.

This fierce protection of my child was my first act as a mother.

“I won’t do it,” I nearly hissed at my husband through tears, protectively clutching my lower abdomen. “I will not allow that evil near this child. I can’t do that. I won’t.”

The memory of that baseball game was fresh, and the hypocrisy of “loving” my child while ignoring that I live and breathe doesn’t sit well with my soul.

When my toxic in-laws collided with my first pregnancy, I spun wildly. The trauma of the past was magnified by hormones, and those first few weeks of my first pregnancy were not colored with joy or wonder or awe at the literal miracle unfolding in me.

There was fear. I felt violated when contemplating telling my in-laws. There was hostility. I think I felt out-of-control at times. There was helplessness – we would have to tell them at some point. I was worried and frightened about what exposure to them would mean for the soul of my baby. I felt inadequate, like I had failed to protect them from evil, even before they were born. There was an exposure and a vulnerability in telling them that made me unwell.

That pregnancy carried more trauma than triumph, more worry than wonder. It was evident my brain was stuck in the past and my heart was running too far into the future. 

I spent the precious few weeks of my first child’s life planning on how to keep them from the harm their father’s family would inflict on them.

TR + I had every conversation known to man (and a few that weren’t!) about boundaries, limitations, motivations, and eventualities for all things concerning my in-laws, this pregnancy, and boundaries around birth, meeting the babe, and first birthday party.

It was our first foray into parenting, and in the face of serious relational brokenness and possible estrangement, we were forced to decide what we as parents would prioritize.

Were we going to engage with folks who demand we sin in order to be loved, or were we going to model valuing personhood and dignity to our child, starting with our own? Were we going to be parents swayed by the demands and desires of others, or were we going to parent in our God-given convictions and through the strength of the Spirit? Were we going to compromise our integrity and call it peace, or were we going to trust the Peacemaker to accomplish His end in His own time?

And when this little babe exited my body all-too-early, there was relief that we didn’t have to walk those paths right then. 

I don’t stay stuck in the past, so while this might sound strange, I don’t have regrets about how this first pregnancy unfolded. The life of this little one initiated some foundational conversations and ushered in decisions that will serve the rest of our family so well one day.

And after that first pregnancy loss, when I almost immediately conceived again, my in-laws didn’t even enter my brain!

The decisions and boundaries TR and I had decided on with baby #1 made room for peace, joy, excitement, and dreams when baby #2 made their appearance.

See, we had decided that miracles don’t get overshadowed by sin. Joy doesn’t get marred by harm, and we will rejoice without fear.

That’s the beauty of healing. Of redemption.

Even in the unexpected places, and especially when grief is present.

And when baby #2 went Home, we grieved fully.

Healing. Redemption. Restoration.

---

While I sincerely wish this would not resonate with a single one of you, I know that’s not the case. Abusive family is hard. Pregnancy loss, fertility struggles, etc. are incredibly difficult. Put the two together and you have an unpredictable storm of unrelenting magnitude.

All I can do is offer you my own story, and remind you of this:

God is near, and He will cause the storm to cease. The waters will recede. The Son is present. And He will rebuild what has been destroyed.

Talk soon 🖤

*names changed for privacy and safety

** TR has a hard time referring to the people who raised him as “parents,” simply because they kept him alive and that’s about it. They abdicated their God-given role to protect and nurture and love him, and for this reason, they are his biologicals and nothing more.