When my MIL, Gloria, moved in with us after my surgery, I felt a sense of relief. She was there to help, but deep down, I felt everything had to be done my way, especially with raising Lily.
Gloria was supposed to handle the mundane tasks—laundry, cooking, and taking Lily for walks. All important decisions were mine to make.
The first evening after Gloria’s move, I noticed a small thing—bedtime routines. Gloria instructed Lily to brush her teeth in circles, while I always taught her up and down. It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. Gloria was teaching and not following my methods.
Later, I mentioned it to Thomas. “She’s already starting to change things.”
Thomas didn’t see it as a big deal, but I felt it was just the beginning.
Determined to prove I was the best mom for Lily, I went all out. I bought an extravagant doll and transformed our living room into a castle. Lily was thrilled, but her excitement soon faded. She glanced at the window, eager to join Gloria for a hike.
Gloria took Lily out in the rain, and I watched them leave, feeling frustrated. When they returned, Lily was wet and muddy but excited about her adventure with Gloria.
That evening, as Gloria and Lily sat by a campfire in the yard, I felt jealousy. I went outside and insisted Lily come in. She cried, wanting to stay with Gloria. Our argument escalated quickly, and I snapped at Gloria.
In the chaos, we realized Lily was missing. We searched everywhere, panic rising.
Thomas finally shouted, “This isn’t about you two! This is about Lily! Focus on finding her!”
Gloria remembered a cabin in the nearby forest. We grabbed flashlights and rushed there, our fear growing with every step. When we found Lily asleep in the cabin, relief washed over us.
I realized how wrong we’d been. We had been hurting each other and Lily. That night, we promised to focus on what truly mattered and come together as a family.
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