This post is going viral because it captures a tension that resonates deeply with married Korean women — the emotional labor and invisible suffering that comes with navigating in-law expectations during pregnancy and childbirth. The sharp contrast between the two sets of parents hit a collective nerve, turning the post into a rallying point for women sharing similar experiences.
A post on Nate Pann — Korea's most popular anonymous community board for personal stories — is going viral after a soon-to-be mother laid out the stark contrast between how her own parents and her in-laws have treated her throughout her entire pregnancy. The post has struck a nerve with Korean women everywhere, reigniting a long-running national conversation about the expectations placed on daughters-in-law.
The writer is days away from giving birth, and she's exhausted — not just physically, but emotionally. Looking back on her pregnancy, she describes suffering from severe morning sickness that went far beyond nausea: she couldn't tolerate food smells, the smell of toothpaste, or even the smell of her own husband. She lost weight instead of gaining it, and even now at full term, she's only managed to put on about 6–7 kg (roughly 13–15 lbs) because digestion has been so difficult.
Her own parents, who live just 10 minutes away, never once pressured her to visit. They waited for her to reach out, quietly planned menus of her favorite foods for when she felt better, and when the morning sickness finally lifted, they showed up with homemade meals and fruit — including things she had only casually mentioned once in passing. They've since told her to rest completely, not travel far, and not overexert herself.
Her in-laws, who live 40–50 minutes away, have been a different story entirely. When a jesa (ancestral memorial rite) fell during her first trimester, she couldn't attend because the smell of the ritual food made her violently ill. Her husband later visited the in-laws alone on a weekend, and they complained to him about why he hadn't brought her — both to the jesa and to that visit. Despite her husband going frequently, the in-laws always cooked elaborate meals for him but never once thought to send food home for his pregnant wife.
Now that she's at full term, the in-laws have ramped up the demands. They want to visit her at the sanhujoriwon (postpartum care center) — a specialized recovery facility where new mothers rest for 1–2 weeks after birth, with babies kept mostly in a nursery. She politely told them not to come since they wouldn't be able to see the baby directly anyway, and said the same thing to her own parents. Her mother's response? 'I'm not coming to see your baby — I'm coming to see that MY baby is okay.' The in-laws' response? To ask if they could come during mother-baby bonding hours to see the baby directly, and when she explained that's evening time and not visiting hours, they suggested she just keep the baby with her all day so they could come then.
It didn't stop there. The in-laws suggested she register her postpartum care helper to their address — meaning she would recover at their house, in a spare room, in a home that apparently functions as a neighborhood gathering spot. She was horrified at the idea of raising a newborn in that environment.
On vaccinations: she asked her in-laws to get the whooping cough (pertussis) booster at least two weeks before the birth so they could safely visit once she's home from the care center. Their response was essentially 'we didn't need that stuff back in our day.' Her own parents had already gotten their shots.
And then there's the baby's name. Her father-in-law announced he wants to name the grandchild himself, explaining that his own father named her husband, and since he never got to name his own son, he deserves to name the grandson. The writer said she wants to name her own child. Her mother's take: 'It's your child — you're the one who'll be calling that name the most. Of course you should name them.' The in-laws' compromise? Everyone submits a name and they'll 'choose' from the options. The writer is not amused.
To top it all off, the in-laws have also asked why she's only having one child. Her own parents, who originally hoped for multiple grandchildren, watched her struggle through this pregnancy and changed their tune entirely: 'Have one and raise them well.'
'Honestly,' she writes, 'my in-laws feel like complete strangers to me. They haven't considered my perspective even once, and I really resent them for it.'