When I came home from the hospital with my newborn—exhausted but overjoyed—I noticed a folded note on the kitchen table. My heart fluttered, thinking it might be a sweet message from my mother-in-law, Abigail, welcoming us back. After all, she had been taking care of our golden retriever, Rich, while I was in labor—a kindness I thought came from love. But as I opened the note, my excitement evaporated.
It wasn’t a warm welcome. It was a bill.
“You owe me $600 for feeding and walking Rich. My time costs money. You have my bank details.”
I stared at the note, disbelief turning into anger. My husband, Jake, entered the room, setting down the baby carrier. “You might want to see this,” I said, holding the paper out to him.
Jake groaned after reading it. “Seriously? She never said anything about charging us!”
“She didn’t. And now she wants $600 for watching our dog while I was literally bringing your child into the world,” I said sharply. Jake sighed, rubbing his temples, and promised to talk to her. But I wasn’t about to let this slide—I had a better idea.
Just days earlier, things had felt completely different. My induction was scheduled for the next morning, and I was sprawled on the couch, nine months pregnant, trying to ignore the ache in my back. Rich rested his head on my lap, his big brown eyes filled with concern, sensing something was about to change.
“Jake,” I called, wincing through a contraction.
He appeared in the doorway, sandwich in hand. “Yeah, babe?”
“We need to figure out what to do with Rich while we’re at the hospital,” I said. “Think your mom can help?”
Jake, ever the optimist, nodded. “Of course. Mom loves Rich. She’ll take care of him.” That night, he called Abigail, and she immediately agreed, saying she was happy to help.
The next morning, as we handed Rich over, Abigail waved us off with a smile. “Don’t worry, I’ve got everything under control. Go have my grandchild!”
Labor was just as grueling as I had feared—hours of pain, exhaustion, and gripping hospital bed rails. But the moment they placed my baby in my arms, the pain melted away. Jake and I cried as we held our perfect little boy, overwhelmed with love.
Three days later, we returned home, ready to start our new life as parents. I imagined a quiet evening introducing Rich to his baby brother, but Abigail’s note shattered that vision.
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