The Cradle Swap Conspiracy

A month before I was due to give birth, I caught snippets of a hushed conversation between my husband and his mother in the corridor.

My mother-in-law sounded exasperated. "I've had multiple tests done, and they all say it's a girl! I even tried that special concoction to alter the gender, but it didn't work. What a disappointment!"

My husband replied calmly, seemingly unconcerned. "It's alright, Mom. Sophia and I are only having this one child. Even if it's a daughter, she can still inherit our family's wealth."

His mother scoffed disdainfully. "A woman who marries is like water poured on the ground—worthless! Without male genitalia, she's not truly part of our family. What's the use?"

My husband chuckled, his voice tinged with a perverse sense of pride. "Mom, remember that girl I loved from the rural area? Actually, I never ended things with her. She's expecting too, and judging by her wide hips, it's surely a boy."

His mother gasped, then erupted in joyous laughter. "Is that so? I'm going to have a grandson? Oh, this is fantastic!"

She leaned in, speaking in a hushed, conspiratorial tone. "We can't let our precious heir suffer. We'll exchange him with the girl she's carrying. No one will ever find out."

Two weeks later, I woke up in excruciating pain, my abdomen feeling like it was being torn apart. I was rushed to the hospital for an emergency cesarean section.

When I regained consciousness, my mother-in-law stood before me, her face beaming with satisfaction as she cradled a baby boy. "Sophia, you're incredible! You've given birth to a big, healthy boy—4 kilograms! What a blessing you've brought to our family!"

I looked at her, seeing right through her deceit. But I remained silent.

I played along with their deception for eighteen years.