My mother-in-lawm. Each time she stepped out, I heard strange voices outside. When I finally saw what it was, I couldn’t move.
When I told Josh I wanted a home birth, his face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. But his mother, Elizabeth, was even more excited. You would have thought we had just given her the keys to a shiny new car.
Oh, Nancy! This is such great news!” Elizabeth exclaimed, putting her hands together. “I have to be there to support you both. I can help with anything you need!”
I looked at Josh, raising my eyebrows. His shrug told me he was leaving the decision up to me.
I don’t know, Elizabeth,” I replied, sounding unsure. “It’s going to be really intense.”
She waved my worries away. “Nonsense! I’ve been through this myself. I know exactly what you’ll need.”
I bit my lip, thinking it over. Maybe having an extra pair of hands wouldn’t be so bad, right? It would also mean a lot to Josh if I invited his mother to help with our home birth.
“Okay,” I finally agreed. “You can be there.”
Elizabeth squealed with delight, her excitement so loud it could have scared the neighborhood dogs.
The big day finally came. Our midwife, Rosie, was setting up her things when Elizabeth rushed in, her arms full of bags.
“You won’t regret this, Nancy,” she said, hugging me tightly. “I promise to be the best support you could ask for.”
“I’m here!” she announced, as if we could have missed her entrance. “What do you need me to do?”
I was about to respond when a contraction hit, taking my breath away. Josh was instantly by my side, his hand on my lower back as I tensed and groaned.
“Just… put your things down for now,” I managed to say.
As the contraction passed, I noticed Elizabeth fidgeting, her eyes darting around the room. She seemed more nervous than excited, and I felt that something was off.
“Are you okay?” I asked, frowning.
She turned, startled. “What? Oh, yes! Just thinking about how I can help. You’re doing great, honey. Just keep pushing.”
Before I could ask her anything else, she rushed out the door, mumbling something about getting me some water.
Josh squeezed my hand. “Want me to talk to her?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. She’s probably just nervous. It’s our first baby, right?”
As my labor went on, Elizabeth’s behavior became stranger. She would pop in, ask how I was doing, then leave again. Each time she returned, she seemed more flustered.
During a strong contraction, I held Josh’s hand so tightly I thought I might break it. As the pain faded, I heard a weird sound.
“Josh,” I panted, “do you hear that?”
He tilted his head to listen. “Sounds like… voices?”
I nodded, relieved I wasn’t imagining it. “And is that music?”
Josh frowned, kissed my forehead, and said, “I’ll check it out. I’ll be right back.”
As he left, Rosie smiled at me. “You’re doing great, Nancy. Not long now.”
When Josh came back, he looked pale, like he had seen a ghost.
“What is it?” I asked, dreading his answer.
He ran his hand through his hair, looking upset. “You’re not going to believe this. My mother is throwing a party. In our living room.”
I stared at him, thinking I must have misheard. “A what?”
“A party,” he repeated, frustration in his voice. “There are at least a dozen people out there.”
The pain of labor was nothing compared to the anger that flooded me. I struggled to get up, ignoring my midwife’s protests.
“Nancy, you shouldn’t—”
“I need to see this for myself,” I growled.
Josh helped me as we made our way to the living room. The scene was surreal. People were chatting and drinking, as if it were a casual Sunday barbecue.
A banner hung on the wall that read: “WELCOME BABY!”
Elizabeth was in the middle of it all, chatting with a group of women I didn’t recognize. She didn’t even notice us.
“What the heck is going on here?” I shouted, my voice slicing through the chatter.
The room went silent, all eyes on us. Elizabeth turned around, her face going pale when she saw me.
“Nancy! Oh my God! What are you doing here? You’re supposed to—”
“Elizabeth, what is happening here?”
“Oh, I… we were just…”
“Just what? Turning my home birth into a show?”
Elizabeth looked offended. “Now, Nancy, don’t be dramatic. We’re just celebrating!”
“Celebrating? I’m in labor, Elizabeth! This isn’t a party!”
She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, you wouldn’t even know we were here! I thought you’d like the support.”
I felt another contraction coming on and gritted my teeth against the pain and anger. “Support? This is a circus!”
Josh stepped forward, his voice low and serious. “Everyone needs to leave. Now.”
People scrambled to grab their things, and Elizabeth tried one last time. “Nancy, you’re overreacting. This is a happy time!”
I turned to her, my words sharp. “This is my home birth. My moment. If you can’t respect that, you can leave too.”
Without waiting for a response, I waddled back to the bedroom to finish what I started, leaving Josh to handle the chaos.
Hours later, as I held my newborn son, the earlier drama felt like a distant nightmare. Josh sat beside me, eyes full of wonder as he stroked our baby’s cheek.
“He’s perfect!” he whispered.
I nodded, too overwhelmed for words. We enjoyed the quiet until a soft knock at the door broke the peace.
Elizabeth peeked in, her eyes red. “Can I… can I come in?”
My jaw tightened. “No!”
Her face fell. “Please, Nancy. I’m so sorry. I just want to see the baby.”
I looked at Josh, feeling torn. He squeezed my hand gently, his eyes understanding but pleading.
“Fine. Five minutes.”
Elizabeth walked in slowly, as if worried I might change my mind. Her face looked pale and drawn as she came closer to the bed.
“Nancy, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I got so excited and carried away.”
I didn’t respond, just stared at her. Josh cleared his throat. “Do you want to see your grandson, Mom?”
Elizabeth nodded, tears falling as Josh carefully handed our son to her. As she held him, her whole demeanor changed. The party-planner was gone, replaced by a gentle, awed grandmother.
After a few minutes, I spoke up. “It’s time for him to feed.”
Elizabeth nodded and reluctantly gave the baby back to me. She lingered at the door. “Thank you for letting me see him,” she said softly before leaving.
As the door closed, Josh turned to me. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head. “No. What she did… I can’t just forgive and forget, Josh.”
He nodded and pulled me close. “I understand. We’ll work it out together.”
In the weeks that followed, I struggled with how to move on. Part of me wanted to keep Elizabeth away from our son’s first celebration as revenge for her party crash.
I was still angry and hurt, which made it hard to think about including her.
But as I watched her care for our baby during her visits, always respectful of our space and routines, I realized there was a better way.
When it was time to plan the baby’s first party, I picked up the phone and called her.
“Elizabeth? It’s Nancy. I was hoping you could help with the preparations for the baby’s party next weekend.”
There was a long silence on the line. Finally, she spoke. “You want my help? After what I did?”
“Yes. Because this is what family does. We forgive, learn, and move forward together.”
I could hear tears in her voice as she replied, “Oh, Nancy. Thank you. I promise I won’t let you down.”
True to her word, Elizabeth was calm and helpful during the party. She worked quietly in the background, glowing with pride as we introduced our son to family and friends.
As the last guest left, she came up to me, her eyes shining. “Thank you for letting me be part of this, Nancy. I see now that this is how we celebrate: with love and respect.”
I smiled, feeling the barriers between us break down. “That’s right, Elizabeth. Welcome to the family!”
The flight attendant approached me and requested, “Please remain seated after we land; the pilot would like to speak with you personally.”
I thought my big business trip to LA was going to be just another day until a mysterious request from the pilot left me questioning everything I knew about my past. The truth he shared would alter my future in ways I never imagined.
My flight to Los Angeles was supposed to be a smooth one, but what happened during that two-hour journey changed my life forever. But before I tell you about it, let me share why I had to reach LA that day.
So, I work as an architect at a well-known construction firm, and this is my dream job. Let me tell you, it wasn’t good luck that brought me here. It was my hard work and all those sleepless nights I spent in college upgrading my skills and learning new concepts.
Recently, my boss gave me an opportunity to present a big project to some of our top investors in Los Angeles.
It was a HUGE thing because it could lead to a long-awaited promotion, so I happily accepted the opportunity.
Honestly, I felt so grateful for it because it was also a chance to make my mom, Melissa, proud. She’s my best friend, and that’s mainly because she has raised me as a single parent. She told me my father passed away before I was born, but she never stopped me from chasing my dreams. Mom’s always been there to support me, and I love her for that.
So, when I told her about the meeting in LA, she hugged me and said, “Go get ’em, sweetie! I’ll be praying for you.”
The time flew by at the airport, and soon I found myself comfortably seated on the plane, ready to take off. The flight attendants were all so welcoming, and I lucked out with an empty seat next to me!
As the plane began to ascend, I couldn’t help but feel excited. I was well-prepared for my presentation, hoping the investors would like it.
A few minutes into the flight, a friendly-looking flight attendant named Bethany approached me with a tray of drinks.
“Can I get you something to sip on?” she asked with a smile.
“Just orange juice, please,” I replied, raising my hand to accept the glass. As I did, Bethany glanced down at the birthmark on my wrist.
“I’m sorry, could I have your passport, please?” she asked suddenly.
Well, that’s strange, I thought.
Confused but not wanting to argue, I handed it over. Bethany looked it over carefully before returning it with a nod.
“Just a standard protocol check. Thank you!”
Sounds cool.
A short while later, Bethany returned to my seat.
“Excuse me, will you be in a rush after we land?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’ve got a connecting flight to catch and I’m already running late,” I explained as I subconsciously clasped my hands together.
“Well, the pilot wants to speak with you after we land.”
“The pilot?” I asked. “Why? Can’t he just talk to me now?”
“I’m afraid not,” Bethany replied in a serious tone. “He wants to talk to you in person. I know you’re in a hurry, but trust me, you’ll want to hear this. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
I sat there, utterly perplexed.
What on earth could the pilot possibly need to tell me? And why did it have to wait until after we landed? My big meeting was hanging in the balance, and I didn’t want to risk missing my connection. But Bethany’s insistence made me feel like this was something important.
As the plane touched down and the other passengers began filing out, I steeled myself and waited patiently for the pilot to approach.
When the cabin was finally empty, a tall man with graying hair entered, his eyes immediately locking onto mine.
At that point, I literally dropped my bag and jacket. My jaw just about hit the floor because I could’ve sworn I had seen this man before.
I instantly recognized him from old photos my mom had shown me. This was Steve, her childhood friend.
But the man didn’t look happy to see me.
In fact, tears were streaming down his face as he threw his arms around me in a tight embrace. I stood there, completely bewildered, as he sobbed into my shoulder.
“What’s going on?” I asked in a shaky voice. “What happened?”
He pulled away, gazing at me with red-rimmed eyes. Then, he gently took my hand and revealed a birthmark on his wrist. It was an exact match to the one on mine.
“Courtney,” he choked out, “I’m your father.”
“Wait, what?” I looked at him with eyes wide open. “My father? But Mom said…”
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