I Came Home with My Newborn Twins to Find the Locks Changed, My Stuff Thrown Out, and a Note Waiting for Me

After giving birth to my first children, I thought my husband would start choosing us more over his mother, but that wasn’t the case. This time, he’d chosen her side over me for the last time, so I exposed her for the bully and liar she was.

You’d think bringing home your newborn twins would be one of the happiest moments of your life. For me, it started like that, but it soon turned into an absolute nightmare!

An upset mother with her newborn babies | Source: Midjourney

An upset mother with her newborn babies | Source: Midjourney

After three days in the hospital, recovering from a grueling delivery, I was finally discharged and ready to head home with my beautiful twin daughters, Ella and Sophie. I’d imagined this moment for months: Derek, my husband, picking us up at the hospital with flowers, tears of joy in his eyes as he took one of the girls into his arms.

But instead, at the last minute, I got a hurried phone call that changed everything…

An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney

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

“What?” I asked, adjusting the swaddle around Sophie. “Derek, I just had twins. What’s so important that you can’t—”

“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.”

His words hit me like a bucket of cold water. “What? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Derek, I need you here.”

“I know,” he said, exasperated. “But this happened suddenly, and it’s serious. I’ll come to you as soon as I can.”

An anxious man on a call | Source: Midjourney

An anxious man on a call | Source: Midjourney

I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to scream because of how disappointed and frustrated I felt, but I replied, “Fine. I’ll just get a taxi.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled before hanging up.

My husband’s mother lived in a different city, so the chances of him getting back that same day to get me and the babies were unrealistic. Knowing how obsessed Derek was with his mother, he wasn’t going to leave her by herself, hence the taxi.

An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney

As the line went dead, my heart sank. I wanted to believe Derek wasn’t being callous, just overwhelmed and a mama’s boy. Still, the disappointment stung. The same mother-in-law (MIL) who insisted we make a separate set of keys to our house so she could help me with the babies was now suddenly unwell.

I tried shaking it off as I bundled the girls into their car seats that their father had dropped off the previous day and got us into a cab.

A woman in a cab with her children | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a cab with her children | Source: Midjourney

When we pulled into the driveway, I froze. My suitcases, diaper bags, and even the crib mattress were scattered across the front lawn and by the doorstep! A knot formed in my stomach. I paid the driver and stepped out with the twins, glancing around nervously. Something was obviously very wrong…

A messy front yard | Source: Midjourney

A messy front yard | Source: Midjourney

I approached the front door, fumbling with my keys while absentmindedly calling out my husband’s name, even though I knew he couldn’t be home yet. The key wouldn’t turn. Confused, I tried again. Nothing. Then I saw it, a folded piece of paper taped to a suitcase.

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

My breath caught, and my heart stopped. My hands trembled as I read the note again and again, trying to make sense of it while hoping it was a hallucination. This couldn’t be happening. Not Derek…

A shocked woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney

Not the man who held my hand through every doctor’s appointment, who cried when we heard our daughters’ heartbeats for the first time. Then the worst part of that day began…

Wanting answers, I called him immediately. Straight to voicemail. Again. Voicemail. Panic set in as Sophie’s cries joined Ella’s. I rocked their car seats, forcing myself to think.

A stressed woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney

A stressed woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney

“Mom,” I whispered. My hands shook as I dialed her number.

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

I choked out the words, barely able to hold it together. I hadn’t wanted to involve my mother due to her ailing condition, but I believed this was one of those dire moments.

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

“WHAT?!” Her voice shot up. “Stay there. I’m coming.”

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

Minutes felt like hours before she arrived. Mom took one look at the mess and narrowed her eyes, fuming.

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

“That’s what I thought,” I said, rocking Ella to calm her cries. “But he’s not answering. And what does ‘I know everything’ even mean?” I asked showing her the offensive note.

“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?”

An older woman hugging a younger one | Source: Midjourney

An older woman hugging a younger one | Source: Midjourney

She helped me load the bags into her car and whisked us back to her place. After my mother and I dissected what had happened and repeatedly called Derek with no answer, my anxiety spiked. That night, I barely slept.

The next morning, I decided I needed answers. Leaving the twins with Mom, I drove back in her car to the house. The yard was empty, my belongings gone. I knocked on the door. No response. I walked around to the back, peering through the windows, and froze.

A shocked woman peaking through a window | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman peaking through a window | Source: Midjourney

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

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, banging on the door.

Lorraine rose leisurely and opened it just a crack. “Jenna. You’re not welcome here, didn’t you see the note?”

“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.”

A nonchalant older woman standing by a door | Source: Midjourney

A nonchalant older woman standing by a door | Source: Midjourney

I stared at her, disbelief washing over me. “Sick? You’re standing right here!”

She shrugged, her lips curling into a malicious smile. “Maybe I’m feeling better. Miracles happen.”

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

Her smile widened. “And?”

My hands balled into fists. “Why? Why would you do this?”

She crossed her arms, her smugness growing.

A smug older woman | Source: Midjourney

A smug older woman | Source: Midjourney

“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 confessed unapologetically, finally speaking her truth after all these years I’ve been with her son.

Her words knocked the air out of me. I was too stunned to speak, and she took my silence as permission to keep going.

“I knew you’d ruin my son’s life, so I took matters into my own hands. The note was a bit much, but I needed you to believe he wanted you gone. I even ensured he couldn’t call you by taking his phone right out of his pocket when he wasn’t looking. You were supposed to take your things and get out of our lives, but here you are…”

An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t breathe. This woman had orchestrated everything, lied to her son, and got him to take her to the hospital under false pretenses before sneaking away, locked me out of my home, and stole his phone all because she disapproved of my daughters!

“You threw us out over that?”

“Of course,” she said, unbothered. “I even bribed a nurse at the hospital to keep him there. And it worked, didn’t it?”

I felt sick. “You’re deranged!”

“Call me what you want,” she sneered. “I call it protecting my family. Besides, my Derek always takes my side and will see things my way as usual.”

An arrogant older woman | Source: Midjourney

An arrogant older woman | Source: Midjourney

Her words echoed in my mind as I drove to the hospital where my husband was still waiting. With every mile, my anger grew. How could she justify such cruelty? My hands gripped the wheel tightly, knuckles white with fury.

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, always believing Derek deserved someone wealthier and fancier, unlike me.

An upset woman driving | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman driving | Source: Midjourney

When I reached the hospital, I found my husband pacing in the waiting room, his eyes shadowed with worry.

“Jenna!” he said, rushing toward me. “Where have you been? I don’t have my phone or know your number by heart, so I couldn’t call you!”

“Your mother took your phone,” I cut him off. “She faked her illness and locked me out of the house!”

He froze, confusion and anger flashing across his face. “What? That doesn’t make any sense.”

A man at a hospital | Source: Midjourney

A man at a hospital | Source: Midjourney

“She set me up, wrote a fake note from you sending me away, and bribed a nurse to lie to you,” I said, my voice trembling. “Lorraine’s at our house, sipping tea like she’s the queen of the world!”

“Wait. What? Why would she…”

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

The shock turned to rage on his face. Without saying a word, he grabbed his keys and stormed out, with me following close behind. When we got home, Lorraine was exactly where I’d left her, looking utterly unbothered.

An older woman having tea | Source: Midjourney

An older woman having tea | Source: Midjourney

But her smugness vanished when she saw the determined look on Derek’s face.

“Mom,” he said, his voice cold and sharp. “What did you do? I thought you were in the hospital?”

She opened her mouth, likely to lie, but Derek cut her off. “Save it. I know everything.”

“Derek, I was just trying to—”

“You’ve done enough,” he snapped. “You made me abandon my wife and children for a fake emergency! Then you locked my wife, who just gave birth, and our newborn babies out of our home! On top of that, you cut our ability to communicate during such a crucial time by stealing my phone!”

An angry man shouting | Source: Midjourney

An angry man shouting | Source: Midjourney

“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!”

I stood with my mouth agape, having never seen Derek this angry! I won’t lie, a part of me was proud that he was proving himself worthy of me by defending my and the children’s honor. At that moment, I loved him more than ever before!

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

“Pack your things and leave,” he demanded.

She gaped at him, tears forming. “You can’t mean that. I’m your mother!”

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

For once, Lorraine was speechless. She stormed upstairs to pack, slamming doors as she went. Derek turned to me, his eyes full of remorse.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I didn’t know.”

I let out a shaky breath, the tension easing just a little. “I just want us to move forward.”

A happy woman with her man | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman with her man | Source: Midjourney

Lorraine left that night. My husband apologized repeatedly, vowing to make things right. And he did. He changed the locks, blocked his mother’s number, and even reported the nurse who had taken the bribe!

It wasn’t easy, but for months we worked on rebuilding our life. One evening, as I rocked Ella and Sophie to sleep, I realized Lorraine had tried to destroy us but only managed to bring us closer together.

A happy couple with their twins | Source: Midjourney

A happy couple with their twins | Source: Midjourney

Sadly, Jenna isn’t the only daughter-in-law who has had to face a difficult MIL. In the following story, Michelle’s MIL surprises her and her husband with a DNA test for their son thinking it would finally break them up. But things didn’t play out in her favor, the way she imagined.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

We Adopted a 3-Year-Old Boy – When My Husband Went to Bathe Him for the First Time, He Shouted, ‘We Must Return Him!’

After years of infertility, we adopted Sam, a sweet 3-year-old with ocean-blue eyes. But when my husband went to bathe Sam, he ran out, yelling, “We must return him!” His panic made no sense until I spotted the distinctive marking on Sam’s foot.

I never expected that bringing home our adopted son would unravel the fabric of my marriage. But looking back now, I realize that some gifts come wrapped in heartache, and sometimes the universe has a twisted sense of timing.

A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney

A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney

“Are you nervous?” I asked Mark as we drove to the agency.

My hands fidgeted with the tiny blue sweater I’d bought for Sam, our soon-to-be son. The fabric was impossibly soft against my fingers, and I imagined his small shoulders filling it out.

“Me? Nah,” Mark replied, but his knuckles were white against the steering wheel. “Just ready to get this show on the road. Traffic’s making me antsy.”

A man driving a car | Source: Pexels

A man driving a car | Source: Pexels

He drummed his fingers on the dash, a nervous tick I’d noticed more frequently lately.

“You’ve checked the car seat three times,” he added with a forced chuckle. “Pretty sure you’re the nervous one.”

“Of course I am!” I smoothed the sweater again. “We’ve waited so long for this.”

The adoption process had been grueling, mostly handled by me while Mark focused on his expanding business.

A woman staring thoughtfully out a car window | Source: Midjourney

A woman staring thoughtfully out a car window | Source: Midjourney

The endless paperwork, home studies, and interviews had consumed my life for months as I searched agency lists for a child. We’d initially planned to adopt an infant, but the waiting lists stretched endlessly, so I started expanding our options.

That’s how I found Sam’s photo — a three-year-old boy with eyes like summer skies and a smile that could melt glaciers.

His mother had abandoned him, and something in those eyes spoke directly to my heart. Maybe it was the hint of sadness behind his smile, or perhaps it was fate.

A little boy with striking blue eyes | Source: Midjourney

A little boy with striking blue eyes | Source: Midjourney

“Look at this little guy,” I said to Mark one evening, showing him the photo on my tablet. The blue glow illuminated his face as he studied it.

He’d smiled so softly I knew he wanted this boy as much as I did. “He looks like a great kid. Those eyes are something else.”

“But could we handle a toddler?”

“Of course we can! No matter how old the kid is, I know you’ll be a great mom.” He squeezed my shoulder as I stared at the picture.

A woman staring at her tablet | Source: Midjourney

A woman staring at her tablet | Source: Midjourney

We completed the application process and, after what seemed like forever, we went to the agency to bring Sam home. The social worker, Ms. Chen, led us to a small playroom where Sam sat building a tower of blocks.

“Sam,” she said softly, “remember the nice couple we talked about? They’re here.”

I kneeled beside him, my heart thundering. “Hi, Sam. I love your tower. May I help?”

He studied me for a long moment, nodded, and handed me a red block. That simple gesture felt like the beginning of everything.

A child playing with toy blocks | Source: Midjourney

A child playing with toy blocks | Source: Midjourney

The drive home was quiet. Sam clutched a stuffed elephant we’d brought him, occasionally making small trumpet sounds that made Mark chuckle. I kept glancing back at him in his car seat, hardly believing he was real.

At home, I started unpacking Sam’s few belongings. His small duffle seemed impossibly light for containing a child’s whole world.

“I can give him his bath,” Mark offered, from the door. “Give you a chance to set up his room exactly how you want it.”

A man standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

“Great idea!” I beamed, thinking how wonderful it was that Mark wanted to bond right away. “Don’t forget the bath toys I picked up for him.”

They disappeared down the hall, and I hummed as I arranged Sam’s clothes in his new dresser. Each tiny sock and T-shirt made this feel more real. The peace lasted exactly forty-seven seconds.

“WE MUST RETURN HIM!”

Mark’s shout hit me like a physical blow.

A woman looking over her shoulder | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking over her shoulder | Source: Midjourney

He burst from the bathroom as I raced into the hall. Mark’s face was ghost-white.

“What do you mean, return him?” I struggled to keep my voice steady, gripping the doorframe. “We just adopted him! He’s not a sweater from Target!”

Mark paced the hallway, running his hands through his hair, his breathing ragged. “I just realized… I can’t do this. I can’t treat him like my own. This was a mistake.”

“Why would you say that?” My voice cracked like thin ice.

A confused woman | Source: Midjourney

A confused woman | Source: Midjourney

“You were excited just hours ago! You were making elephant noises with him in the car!”

“I don’t know; it just hit me. I can’t bond with him.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes, staring instead at a point somewhere over my shoulder. His hands trembled.

“You’re being heartless!” I snapped, pushing past him into the bathroom.

Sam sat in the tub looking small and confused, and still wearing everything but his socks and shoes. He held his elephant clutched tight against his chest.

A boy holding a stuffed elephant | Source: Midjourney

A boy holding a stuffed elephant | Source: Midjourney

“Hey, buddy,” I said, forcing cheerfulness into my voice while my world crumbled. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Would Mr. Elephant like a bath too?”

Sam shook his head. “He’s scared of water.”

“That’s okay. He can watch from here.” I set the toy safely on the counter. “Arms up!”

As I helped Sam undress, I noticed something that stopped my heart.

A stunned woman | Source: Midjourney

A stunned woman | Source: Midjourney

Sam had a distinctive birthmark on his left foot. I’d seen that exact mark before, on Mark’s foot, during countless summer days by the pool. The same unique curve, the same placement.

My hands trembled as I bathed Sam, and my mind raced.

“You’ve got magic bubbles,” Sam said, poking at the foam I’d barely registered adding to the water.

“They’re extra special bubbles,” I muttered, watching him play. His smile, which had seemed so uniquely his own, now held echoes of my husband’s.

A bubble bath | Source: Pexels

A bubble bath | Source: Pexels

That night, after tucking Sam into his new bed, I confronted Mark in our bedroom. The distance between us on the king-size mattress felt infinite.

“The birthmark on his foot is identical to yours.”

Mark froze in the act of removing his watch, then forced a laugh that sounded like breaking glass. “Pure coincidence. Lots of people have birthmarks.”

“I want you to take a DNA test.”

A woman with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney

A woman with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped, turning away. “You’re letting your imagination run wild. It’s been a stressful day.”

But his reaction told me everything. The next day, while Mark was at work, I took a few strands of hair from his brush and sent them for testing, along with a swab I took from Sam’s cheek during tooth-brushing time. I told him we were checking for cavities.

The wait was excruciating. Mark grew increasingly distant, spending more time at the office. Meanwhile, Sam and I grew closer.

A woman playing with a child | Source: Midjourney

A woman playing with a child | Source: Midjourney

He started calling me “Mama” within days, and each time he did, my heart swelled with love even as it ached with uncertainty.

We developed a routine of morning pancakes, bedtime stories, and afternoon walks to the park where he’d collect “treasure” (leaves and interesting rocks) for his windowsill.

When the results arrived two weeks later, they confirmed what I’d suspected. Mark was Sam’s biological father. I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the paper until the words blurred, hearing Sam’s laughter float in from the backyard where he played with his new bubble wand.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

“It was one night,” Mark finally confessed when I confronted him with the results. “I was drunk, at a conference. I never knew… I never thought…” He reached for me, his face crumpling. “Please, we can work this out. I’ll do better.”

I stepped back, my voice ice-cold. “You knew the moment you saw that birthmark. That’s why you panicked.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, sinking into a kitchen chair. “When I saw him in the bath, it all came rushing back. That woman… I never got her name. I was ashamed, I tried to forget…”

An emotional man | Source: Midjourney

An emotional man | Source: Midjourney

“An accident four years ago, while I was going through fertility treatments? Crying every month when they failed?” Each question felt like glass in my throat.

The next morning, I visited a lawyer, a sharp-eyed woman named Janet who listened without judgment. She confirmed what I hoped — being Sam’s legal adoptive mother gave me parental rights. Mark’s previously unknown paternity didn’t automatically grant him custody.

“I’m filing for divorce,” I told Mark that evening after Sam was asleep. “And I’m seeking full custody of Sam.”

A determined woman | Source: Midjourney

A determined woman | Source: Midjourney

“Amanda, please—”

“His mother already abandoned him and you were ready to do the same,” I cut in. “I won’t let that happen.”

His face crumpled. “I love you.”

“Not enough to come clean. It seems to me that you loved yourself more.”

Mark didn’t fight it, so the divorce proceedings were quick. Sam adjusted better than I expected, though sometimes he asked why Daddy didn’t live with us anymore.

A boy in his bed | Source: Midjourney

A boy in his bed | Source: Midjourney

“Sometimes grown-ups make mistakes,” I’d tell him, stroking his hair. “But it doesn’t mean they don’t love you.” It was the kindest truth I could offer.

Years have passed since then, and Sam’s grown into a remarkable young man. Mark sends birthday cards and occasional emails but keeps his distance — his choice, not mine.

People sometimes ask if I regret not walking away when I discovered the truth. I always shake my head.

A woman hugging her son | Source: Midjourney

A woman hugging her son | Source: Midjourney

Sam wasn’t just an adopted child anymore; he was my son, biology, and betrayal be damned. Love isn’t always simple, but it’s always a choice. I vowed never to give him up, except to his future fiancée, of course.

Here’s another story: Despite being a struggling single mom, I had to help the elderly woman I found out in the cold on Christmas Eve. I never imagined that my simple act of kindness would lead to a mysterious luxury SUV at my door — or heal my broken heart.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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