After giving birth to my twin girls, I hoped Derek, my husband, would finally put us first instead of letting his controlling mother, Lorraine, come between us. But once again, he disappointed me, and this time, I knew it was the last straw.
Bringing the babies home after a difficult delivery was supposed to be a joyful moment. I pictured Derek picking us up from the hospital and welcoming us as a family. Instead, he called last minute to say he couldn’t make it because Lorraine was having chest pains and he had to take her to the hospital.
Though upset, I focused on my daughters, Ella and Sophie. I called a taxi, got the girls strapped in their car seats, and headed home alone.
When I arrived, I couldn’t believe my eyes. My things were scattered all over the front yard—suitcases, baby supplies, even the crib mattress. A note taped to one suitcase crushed my heart.
“Leave with your little freeloaders! I know everything.” It was signed by Derek.
I tried calling him repeatedly, but his phone was off. Standing there with my newborns, my heart broke, wondering how someone I loved could do this.
With no other option, I called my mom. She came quickly, upset and confused, and took us to her place. That night, I barely slept, overwhelmed by pain, anger, and unanswered questions.
The next day, I returned home to find everything gone—but what shocked me more was seeing Lorraine calmly drinking tea at my dining table, as if nothing had happened.
I pounded on the door, demanding answers. She cracked it open just enough to smirk and boast. She confessed to orchestrating it all—faking illness to get Derek out, locking me out, and writing the hateful note.
When I asked why, her response stunned me. “Because you gave him two useless girls. This family needs boys,” she said coldly.
Her cruelty was unbearable. She seemed proud, confident Derek would side with her, as always. Furious, I went straight to the hospital to confront Derek.
When I found him, he looked exhausted and confused. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call, but I lost my phone,” he said.
“Your mother took your phone,” I said sharply. “She faked being sick and locked me out.”
His shock quickly turned to anger. We drove home together, and as soon as we arrived, Lorraine’s smugness disappeared when Derek demanded answers.
“You lied to me, threw my wife and kids out, and locked them out of their home?” Derek yelled. Lorraine tried to defend herself, but he cut her off. “What kind of mother does that? I don’t care if my kids are girls or boys—they’re my daughters, and I love them. If you can’t accept that, you’re out of our lives.”
For the first time, Lorraine was speechless. That night, she packed her bags and left. Derek apologized endlessly, promising to fix things. He changed the locks, severed ties with his mother, and even reported the nurse she had bribed.