Janet stood there, arms crossed, her face smug. “She’s not my grandchild. Look at her. You and Tim are white, but that child isn’t. I won’t accept her.”
I was stunned. My mother-in-law was rejecting my daughter because of her skin color.
Trying to keep calm, I said, “Janet, we’ve explained this. Genetics can be unpredictable, and Tim’s great-grandfather—”
“I don’t care!” she snapped. “That baby isn’t part of this family. I’m not raising someone else’s child in my son’s house.”
With that, she walked away, leaving me shaking with anger and disbelief.
As soon as she left, I called Tim. “You need to come home now. Your mother destroyed Amelia’s room and said horrible things. I can’t handle this alone.”
Tim arrived quickly, his face dark with anger. “Where is she?” he asked.
I pointed toward the kitchen, and he stormed in, with me following close behind, holding my breath.
“Mom, what did you do?” he demanded.
Janet looked up, pretending to be innocent. “I did what had to be done. You’ll see I’m right when you realize that baby isn’t yours.”
Tim slammed his fist on the counter. “Amelia is my daughter. If you can’t accept that, you’re not welcome here anymore. Pack your things and go.”
Janet’s face crumpled. “You’re choosing them over your own mother?”
“Yes,” Tim said firmly. “Now leave.”
After she left, Tim and I collapsed onto the couch, our hearts heavy but united. He wrapped his arms around me and Amelia, whispering, “I’m so sorry, Rosie. I didn’t think she’d go this far.”
“We’ll fix the nursery,” he promised. “We’ll make it even better than before.”
Holding my daughter close, I knew that no matter what Janet had tried to destroy, she hadn’t succeeded. Our family’s love for Amelia was unbreakable, and that’s all that mattered.