I always imagined that having a baby would bring Bill and me closer together. But his mother had other plans. She took control of everything, and Bill allowed it. I tried to set boundaries, but nothing prepared me for the betrayal that left me standing at the door with my newborn in my arms.
When I first learned I was pregnant, I felt like the happiest woman alive. Bill and I had long dreamed of this moment—imagining the day we’d finally hold our baby.
But I wasn’t the only one eagerly awaiting the baby. Bill’s mother, Jessica, had been waiting too—but in a way that made my life unbearable.
She never liked me and made it clear from the start that I wasn’t good enough for her son.
“Bill deserves someone better,” she would mutter when I was around.
But when she found out I was pregnant, everything changed—but not for the better.
It was as if the baby belonged to her. She insisted on being involved in every little detail.
“I’ll come to the doctor with you,” she’d say, already putting on her coat before I could protest.
“I know what’s best.”
As we prepared for the baby, she took over everything. She chose the furniture, dismissed my preferences, and even declared, “The nursery should be blue. You’re having a boy.”
My pregnancy wasn’t easy. I was constantly nauseous and could barely eat.
But Jessica didn’t care. She would show up, filling the house with the smell of greasy food, while Bill enjoyed her cooking, and I was stuck in the bathroom, feeling sick.
I had had enough. I asked Bill to stop sharing any details with her.
Yet somehow, when we went to the clinic for the ultrasound—the one where we’d learn the baby’s gender—Jessica was already there, sitting in the waiting room like she had a right to be there. I froze. How did she even know?
“It’s a girl,” the doctor said.
I squeezed Bill’s hand, my heart racing with joy. We had dreamed of this moment—our daughter.
But when I looked at Bill, I saw his face light up with happiness. Then I saw Jessica. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line.
“You couldn’t even give my son a boy,” she sneered. “He needed an heir.”
I stared at her, my fists clenching. “An heir to what? His video game collection?” My voice was sharp. “And just so you know, the father determines the baby’s gender, not the mother.”
Jessica’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a lie,” she spat. “Your body’s the problem! You were never right for my son.”
The doctor cleared her throat, and the nurse gave me a sympathetic glance. I took a deep breath, rubbing my temples. “Let’s go, Bill,” I muttered.
Once we were in the car, I turned to him. “How did she know about the appointment?”
Bill avoided my gaze. “I told her.”
Anger surged through me. “I asked you not to! She stresses me out too much!”
“She’s the grandmother,” he said.
“I’m your wife!” I shot back. “I’m carrying our daughter! Don’t you care how I feel?”
“Just ignore her,” Bill said.
Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one being attacked. He wasn’t the one feeling abandoned. My own husband wouldn’t protect me.
When labor began, the pain hit like a wave, overwhelming me. My body trembled. It was too soon.
The contractions came fast and hard, stealing my breath. Bill rushed me to the hospital, barely making it in time.
Nurses surrounded me, the bright lights burning my eyes. The pain was unbearable.
I clutched Bill’s hand, gasping. “I can’t—”
“You’re doing great,” he said, but his face was pale.
Then everything went wrong.
As soon as our daughter was born, the doctors took her away. I reached out, desperate to hold her, to see her tiny face. But they didn’t let me.
“Please,” I begged weakly. “Give her to me.”
“You’re losing too much blood!” a doctor shouted.
The world spun. Then, nothing.
I wasn’t the first to hold my daughter. When I regained consciousness, my body felt like an empty shell.
Every breath felt like a struggle. My skin was cold, and my hands were weak as I tried to move.
Later, the doctor told me my survival was a miracle. They hadn’t expected me to make it.
The thought that I almost never got to see my daughter’s face made my stomach twist.
Then the door swung open. Jessica stormed in, looking angry.
“You didn’t even tell me you were in labor!” she snapped.
Bill sighed. “It happened too fast.”
“That’s no excuse!” Jessica hissed.
A nurse entered, holding my daughter. My heart clenched. But before I could reach for her, Jessica snatched her from the nurse’s arms.
“What a beautiful girl,” she said, rocking my daughter with a smug smile.
I reached for my baby, but Jessica didn’t hand her over.
“She needs to be fed,” the nurse said.
Jessica barely looked at her. “Then give her formula.”
I forced myself to sit up, despite my weakness. “I’m going to breastfeed her.”
Jessica’s lips tightened. “But you’ll always be taking her away from me! You won’t even let me leave her with you!” Her voice grew sharp and accusing.
Finally, Bill stepped in. He pried our daughter from Jessica’s grip and placed her in my arms.
The moment I held her, I burst into tears, overwhelmed with love. She was mine. She was worth everything.
Only two weeks had passed since the birth, but my body still felt drained. Bill had taken leave from work to help, but it was still tough.
Jessica, of course, didn’t make things easier. She came over almost every day, disregarding my exhaustion. She refused to call my daughter by her real name. “Little Lillian,” she would say, as if she had a say in it.
“It’s Eliza,” I corrected.
But Jessica ignored me, and Bill never corrected her.
One afternoon, she arrived again, uninvited, holding an envelope in her hand. Her eyes gleamed with something unsettling. My stomach twisted.
Bill frowned as he took the envelope. “What’s this?”
Jessica smirked. “Proof. I knew Carol wasn’t right for you. I knew she wasn’t faithful.”
My grip on Eliza tightened. “What nonsense is this?” I demanded.
Jessica’s eyes sparkled. “Open it. It’s a DNA test,” she said, shoving the envelope toward Bill.
Bill’s fingers trembled as he opened it. His face darkened as he read it.
He turned to me, his jaw clenched. “You and the baby need to leave. Now,” he said coldly, before storming out.
I gasped, my legs shaking. “What?! What did you do?” I screamed at Jessica.
She folded her arms. “You were never worthy of my son.”
I held Eliza closer, my voice breaking. “You wanted this baby so badly, and now you want to throw her away? That test isn’t even real!”
Jessica scoffed. “You won’t even let me take her because you’re breastfeeding. Bill deserves a proper wife. One who will give me a grandson.”
Rage surged through me. “You’re insane!” I screamed.
I packed Eliza’s clothes, my hands shaking. My vision blurred with tears.
I grabbed my own things, my heart pounding. Before leaving, I grabbed Bill’s toothbrush.
Stepping outside, the cold air hit me, and my knees buckled. I clutched Eliza close, sobbing uncontrollably.
My husband—her father—had thrown us out like we were nothing. He hadn’t even looked back.
He hadn’t asked questions. He believed his mother without hesitation.
I knew the truth—Eliza was his daughter. I had never betrayed him. But it didn’t matter. He chose her over us.
I went to my mom’s house. When she opened the door, she gasped. “Carol? What happened?”
I broke down again. She pulled me inside, listening in shock as I explained everything.
Days passed. My body grew stronger. Once I was well enough, I left Eliza with my mom and went to see Bill.
I knocked on his door. He opened it, his expression unreadable. “What do you want?” he asked.
I handed him an envelope. “This is the real DNA test,” I said. “I took your toothbrush. In case you didn’t notice.”
His brows furrowed. “So that’s where it went.” He tore open the envelope. His eyes scanned the paper. “99.9%,” he read aloud. His breath caught.
“Eliza is your daughter,” I said firmly.
Bill looked at me, his expression shifting. “Carol, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry I believed my mother.”
I shook my head. “No.”
His face fell. “I thought she wasn’t mine. But now that I know she is, I want you both to come back.”
I stared at him, my hands clenched. “You don’t deserve to be her father. You never questioned whether Jessica’s test was real. You didn’t stop to think about me or Eliza. I did this so you’d know exactly what you lost. Because of your mother, you threw us away.”
His voice cracked. “Please. I’ll cut her off. Just come back.”
I took a step back. “I’m filing for divorce. I want full custody.”
“Carol—”
I turned away. “Goodbye, Bill.”
As I got into my car, I heard him call my name. But I drove off, knowing Eliza and I would be just fine.