“Right here?” I stuttered. “Yeah. Why not?” To my left, my father-in-law was enjoying a plate of scrambled eggs. To my right, my husband was cutting up a waffle for my daughter. I looked down at my 4-day old baby boy. I smoothed my thumb over his tiny fisted hand and took a deep breath. In front of me, my mother glared at me. The pressure. So much pressure. Between my throbbing uterus, sore nipples and onslaught of postpartum emotions, I was finding that eating out with the family just days after I had given birth just wasn’t a good idea. “I’m going to go to the car.” “You sure?” my husband...