After giving birth to my twin daughters, I hoped my husband, Derek, would finally put us first instead of letting his controlling mother, Lorraine, come between us. But once again, he let me down, and this time, I knew it was the breaking point.
Bringing my babies home after a tough delivery was supposed to be a happy moment. I imagined Derek picking us up from the hospital and welcoming us as a family. Instead, he called at the last minute to say he couldn’t come because Lorraine had chest pains, and he had to take her to the hospital.
I was upset but tried to stay focused on my daughters, Ella and Sophie. I called a taxi, got the girls settled in their car seats, and prepared to go home without him.
When the cab arrived at our house, I couldn’t believe what I saw. My belongings were thrown all over the front yard—suitcases, baby items, even the crib mattress. A note taped to one of the suitcases made my heart sink.
“Leave with your little freeloaders! I know everything.” The note was signed by Derek.
I tried calling him over and over, but his phone was off. My heart shattered as I stood there, holding my newborns, wondering how someone I loved could do this to me.
With no other choice, I called my mom. She came quickly, angry and confused, and took us to her house. That night, I hardly slept, overwhelmed by pain, anger, and unanswered questions.
The next day, I went back to the house. All my things were gone, but what shocked me more was seeing Lorraine sitting at my dining table, calmly drinking tea like nothing had happened.
I banged on the door, demanding an explanation. She opened it just enough to smirk and brag. She admitted to planning everything—pretending to be sick to get Derek out of the way, locking me out, and writing the nasty note.
When I asked her why she did it, her response stunned me. “Because you gave him two useless girls. This family needs boys,” she said.
Her cold-heartedness was unbearable. She seemed proud of what she had done, confident that Derek would side with her, just like always. Furious, I drove straight to the hospital to confront him.
When I found Derek, he looked tired and confused. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you, but I lost my phone,” he said.
“Your mother took your phone,” I snapped. “She pretended to be sick and locked me out of the house.”
The shock on his face quickly turned to anger. We drove home together, and when we got there, Lorraine’s smug attitude vanished as soon as Derek started demanding answers.
“You lied to me, threw my wife and kids out, and locked them out of their own home?” Derek shouted. Lorraine tried to defend herself, but he wouldn’t listen. “What kind of mother does that? I don’t care if my children are girls or boys. They’re my daughters, and I love them. If you can’t accept them, you’re not part of our lives.”
For the first time, Lorraine was left speechless. That night, she packed her things and left. Derek apologized repeatedly, promising to make things right. He changed the locks, cut ties with his mother, and even reported the nurse she had bribed.
