I just had my first baby three months ago. My husband and I live on the East Coast, while his mom lives in California. So, when the baby was born, my MIL asked to have access to our baby monitor “to see her grandchild grow up from afar.” I was a little iffy about it, but my husband thought it would be sweet and would help her feel more connected since she can’t visit often.
So I agreed. (We use a Nanit camera, which streams via an app.)
At first, it was cute. She texted me things like: “She looks like a little angel when she sleeps 😍.”
But then it got… weird.
She started commenting on things that had nothing to do with the baby. Like once, I breastfed in the nursery during a middle-of-the-night feed, and the next day she messaged, “Looks like you were up late!”
I felt my stomach twist. How did she even…?
Then, a few days later, I was changing the baby and singing softly. MIL messaged, “Interesting choice of song. You always go for the sad ones, don’t you?”
Uhh.
Okay? I still brushed it off. Until my sister came over.
She burst into the nursery, phone in hand. “Have you seen what your MIL just did?!”
I blinked. “What?”
“I was scrolling Facebook, and THIS popped into my recommendations.”
She showed me the post.
It was a photo. Of ME. In the nursery.
Breastfeeding in my red robe, hair messy, clearly exhausted. And below was a caption. “Should I tell my DIL she should buy a nicer robe if she wants to stay attractive for my son.” My blood froze.
Linda had been posting screenshots of me breastfeeding, yawning, even soothing Emma, mocking me publicly. When I showed my husband, he shrugged it off. So I revoked Linda’s access.
Cue outrage. That weekend, my sister Sarah hosted a “game night” Zoom—then shared Linda’s Facebook posts for the whole family to see. Silence, then Linda fled the call.
My husband finally grasped the violation. I told him flatly: “Give her access again, and you’ll sleep in the crib.” Some boundaries, once broken, never mend.
