You’d think that bringing home your newborn twins would be one of the most joyous occasions of your life.
It began out that way for me, but it quickly developed into a nightmare!

After three days in the hospital recovering from a difficult delivery, I was finally discharged and ready to return home with my lovely twin daughters, Ella and Sophie.

However, at the last minute, I received a hurried phone call that changed everything…

“Hey, baby,” my husband said, his voice clipped. “I am so sorry, but I can’t come pick you guys up as planned.”

“It’s my mom,” he interrupted. “She’s in bad shape. Hectic chest pains. I need to pick her up and take her to that hospital close to her.”

I clenched my teeth, fighting the temptation to shout because I was so disappointed and irritated, but I said, “Fine. I’ll just get a taxi.”

As the call went dead, my heart fell. I wanted to believe Derek wasn’t heartless, but rather overwhelmed and a mama’s boy. Nonetheless, the disappointment stung. The same mother-in-law (MIL) who insisted on having a separate set of keys to our home so she could assist me with the babies was now unexpectedly ill.

When we pulled into the driveway, I froze. My suitcases, diaper bags, and even the crib mattress were thrown over the front lawn and at the entrance!

The key wouldn’t turn. Confused, I tried again. Nothing. Then I noticed it—a folded piece of paper attached to a luggage.

Get out of here with your little moochers! I know everything. Derek.

For illustrative purposes only.
I called him right away because I wanted to know the answer. Go straight to voicemail. Again. Voicemail. Panic came in when Sophie’s cries joined Ella’s.

“Mom,” I whispered. My palms shook as I called her number.

“Jenna?” Mom responded on the first ring. “What’s wrong? Are the twins okay?”

“Derek… He changed the locks. He threw my stuff outside. Mom, he left this awful note.”

Minutes felt like hours until she arrived. Mom squinted her eyes and fumed when she saw the mess.

“This doesn’t make sense! Derek wouldn’t do this; he loves you and the girls!”

“I am so sorry, my darling,” she said while hugging me close. “Let’s go to my place until we can get a hold of your husband, okay?”

The next morning, I realized I wanted answers.
I drove her car back to the house. My stuff was gone, and the yard was empty. I moved around to the back, gazing through the windows, and then froze.

Lorraine, Derek’s mother, sat at the dining table sipping tea! When I hammered on the door, she looked up, startled, almost spilling her tea before she noticed me and smirked.

“Where’s Derek?” I snapped. “Why did he—”

“He’s at the hospital in my city,” she said smoothly. “Taking care of his sick mother.”

“You lied to him, didn’t you? You faked being sick!”

She crossed her arms, her smugness increasing.

For illustrative purposes only.
“I told Derek from the start that our family needs a boy to carry on the name. But you? You gave us two girls. Useless,” she admitted unabashedly, finally telling the truth after all these years of being with her son.I could not breathe. This woman had organized everything, lied to her son, tricked him into taking her to the hospital under false pretenses before fleeing, locked me out of my house, and stole his phone, all because she disapproved of my girls!

I felt sick. “You’re deranged!”

I knew my MIL was mean, but I didn’t think she was evil! She never approved of my relationship or marriage to her son, saying Derek deserved someone wealthier and prettier than me.

When I arrived at the hospital, I found my husband pacing in the waiting room, his eyes filled with concern.
“Your mother took your phone,” I said. “She faked her illness and locked me out of the house!”

“Wait. What? Why would she…”

“Because our daughters aren’t boys,” I said bitterly.

Without saying anything, he grabbed his keys and marched out, with me close behind. When we returned home, Lorraine was exactly where I had left her, unconcerned.

“Derek, I was just trying to—”

“You’ve done enough,” he snapped.

“Derek, darling… I just wanted to keep you safe. This isn’t how this was supposed to go,” my MIL replied pleadingly.

“Keep me safe from my wife and children? Who told you I wanted boys? What makes you think my girls aren’t good enough for me just because of their gender? That’s a problem you have, not me, and if you want sons, I suggest you go make them yourself!”

“Jenna is my WIFE! Those are my daughters! If you can’t respect them, you’re not part of our lives!”

Lorraine, for once, was speechless. She stormed upstairs to pack, slamming doors behind her. Derek turned to me, his eyes filled with regret.

For illustrative purposes only.
It was not easy, but we toiled for months to reconstruct our life.