After finding out she couldn’t have a baby, Annie’s doctor gave her another choice: adoption, which led to a girl named Abiona, who couldn’t speak English at first. But when her new daughter learned enough, she told Annie a secret that changed everything.
Annie sat anxiously in Dr. Martinez’s office, surrounded by posters of happy families. The doctor, a middle-aged woman with a comforting demeanor, invited her to sit.
Smiling, Annie asked, “When can we proceed with the fertilization procedure?”
Dr. Martinez took a deep breath before saying, “Unfortunately, the tests show you cannot have children. I’m very sorry.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
Annie’s heart sank. Despite considering IVF, the doctor advised against it due to low success rates and high risks. But she suggested an alternative — adoption — and handed Annie a booklet filled with information and pictures of children needing a home.
***
Annie sat at her kitchen table, the quiet of her home enveloping her as she browsed through the booklet. She was drawn to a photo of a baby, entranced by his innocent, smiling face.
Picking up the phone with trembling hands, she called the adoption agency and made an appointment. A few days later, she met Caitlin, a social worker, who welcomed Annie into her modest office. “Sorry you had to wait,” she said, shaking her head.
“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Annie replied, masking her nervousness.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
They sat and discussed Annie’s career, home life, and desire to adopt. “Can you devote enough time to a child? It’s not just a few hours a day,” Caitlin wondered.
Annie responded, “Yes, I understand. I’m ready to make sacrifices for my child.”
“Adoption can be challenging, especially in the beginning,” Caitlin continued, but ultimately, she approved Annie’s application.
“I understand,” Annie said, her voice firm. “Thank you.”
***
The next morning, Caitlin’s call interrupted Annie’s breakfast. “Hello, Annie?” she inquired.
“Yes, it’s me,” Annie replied.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
“We’ve found a child for you,” the social worker revealed and talked about Abiona, a six-year-old from Congo who didn’t speak English. “Would you like to meet her today?”
“6 years old? No English? I… I need to think about this,” Annie’s voice wavered.
“Of course, take all the time you need. Have a good day,” Caitlin responded, but Annie heard her sighing before hanging up.
Annie spent the rest of the day pondering the idea of adopting a six-year-old. Motherhood typically began with a baby, so going straight into parenting an older child seemed… odd. However, this could be her only shot.
She called Caitlin the next day with a resounding yes, and the social worker arranged a visit with Abiona, who was staying with a foster family.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
***
Arriving at the foster home, Annie knocked on the door, her heart racing. She was greeted by a woman who, in a not particularly friendly tone, said, “Hello, how’s it going?”
“Hi, I’m Annie,” she replied, fidgeting slightly. “I came to see Abiona.”
The woman showed Annie inside, and it was hard not to notice the chaotic scene of her house. Kids were running around, the television blared in the background, and the living room was full of stuff.
But the woman pointed to a corner where Abiona sat, quietly drawing. “That’s her. Good luck because she doesn’t talk to anyone,” she said and left to scold some other kids.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Annie approached the girl, who briefly met her gaze before resuming her drawing. “Did you draw these yourself? They’re imposing,” she asked, kneeling to look closer.
Abiona nodded slightly without speaking.
The foster mother interrupted. “Don’t even try. She doesn’t understand a word of English,” she said. Annie looked up to see her sporting a superior expression.
“That’s fine,” Annie said, focusing entirely on the girl. She sat beside her and began drawing, too, attempting to communicate through pictures.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
She drew a house and a stick figure with long hair, saying, “This is my house. I live here. Do you want to live with me?”
The girl stared for a second at the paper, then at Annie’s face, before drawing a smaller stick figure next to hers. The gesture made Annie grin as her stomach fluttered.
***
She brought Abiona to her home and introduced her to her new cozy bedroom. The girl stayed silent and observant as she explored everything.
When she found paints and brushes laid out, she immediately began to draw, humming a happy tune. Annie watched for a second, taking in the moment. I’m finally a Mom, she thought before joining her new daughter.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Over the following months, Annie tried teaching Abiona English, but the traditional methods overwhelmed her. Therefore, she adapted her approach, using drawing sessions to teach her the language in a fun, engaging way.
Abiona responded positively, slowly learning words and phrases.
One day, while exploring the concept of family with a picture book, Annie pointed to an illustration and said, “See, this is a family,” then pointed to herself, “Mom,” and to Abiona, “Daughter.”
But instead of nodding in understanding, Abiona’s reaction was unexpected; she burst into tears.
“What’s wrong?” Annie asked, patting the girl’s head.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Abiona grabbed some of her drawings. “I have Mom and Dad,” she revealed, pointing her finger at the paper. Annie’s eyes widened. She didn’t understand because Caitlin had never talked about Abiona’s family.
“What are you saying, honey?” she asked.
“Bad…bad men took me from Mom and Dad,” the girl continued.
“Okay, okay,” Annie said, her voice turning low and soothing. “Tell me more.”
Through her broken English, Abiona explained that the evil men had taken her, but then she was with the police. She showed Annie a handmade toy, her only memory of her biological mom.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
“I little. Don’t know Mom’s face. But Mom smells honey. She give me this,” Abiona finished, biting her bottom lip and looking away to wipe a tear.
Annie was breathing heavily then, trying to contain her own emotions. A six-year-old shouldn’t have to be so strong by herself. She hugged the little girl, who began sobbing into her chest. Revealing that secret made their bond much stronger.
***
Months later, Abiona suffered a severe coughing fit in the night. Annie rushed her to the hospital as quickly as possible. “I need help! My daughter, she can’t breathe!” she wailed at the emergency room staff.
The medical team quickly attended to her daughter, leaving Annie anxiously waiting outside the exam room. Soon, she was stabilized but surrounded by beeping machines that only made things scarier. But the absolute horror came a few hours after the staff conducted several tests.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
One doctor entered the room, took a deep breath, and began. “I’m very sorry to tell you this. But Abiona is terminally ill. She only has a few days left.”
His words were careful, but they cut through Annie like a knife. “What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “What’s wrong with her?”
The doctor explained her condition. It had a complicated name that Annie didn’t understand as her mind was fogging with the implications.
“Should I have noticed sooner? She seemed so healthy. I adopted her a few months ago. No one told me anything.”
“You couldn’t have done much even if you had noticed something. This is a genetic disease, and it manifests very unexpectedly. This is not your fault,” the doctor finished, patting her shoulder, and left.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
***
Abiona awoke an hour later.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Annie whispered, squeezing the girl’s hand. “Is there anything you want? Anything I can get for you?”
Abiona’s voice was weak but clear. “I want to see my mom,” she murmured, a wistful look in her eyes.
Annie nodded and, determined to fulfill this wish, left the hospital with Abiona’s handmade toy, hoping it held clues to finding her biological mother. She went to the police station, where they agreed to test the toy for DNA.
Miraculously, they found a match and gave Annie the biological mother’s contact information. Her name was Tendey. Despite the call going unanswered, Annie insisted on finding Abiona’s mother, even if she had to do it in person.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
She drove to Tendey’s address, gathered her courage, and knocked on the door. When a woman appeared, Annie introduced herself and asked, “Tendey?”
The woman responded quickly, impatient. “Yes. That’s me, but I don’t want to join your god. I don’t need any services, and I don’t want to buy anything,” she said, almost closing the door.
But Annie threw her arm up, stopping her. “This is about Abiona,” she blurted. “She is currently in the hospital. The doctor said that she has a serious genetic disease and has a few days to live.”
Annie thought Tendey would be dismayed, but the woman crossed her arms instead. “I gave her away. Voluntarily. Renounced parental rights. So everything that is happening now is not my problem,” Tendey stated coldly.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Please. She’s your daughter. She’s dying and wants to see you,” Annie pleaded.
Tendey shook her head. “Listen. I don’t want to see her. Deal with it.”
Looking beyond Tendey, into her house, Annie sighed and noticed something. “Do you sell perfumes? Do you have a honey-scented one?”
“Ugh, yes,” Tendey said, looking behind her, confused.
“How much?” Annie asked.
***
At home, Annie searched on her computer, typing away as her plan fully developed. She searched for an actress resembling Tendey and found Sarah. Annie called and explained the situation.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Sarah was touched. “I’ll do it. It’s a strange request, but I can see it comes from a place of love,” she said. Annie provided all the details she knew about Abiona and her mother.
In the hospital room the next day, Annie and the actress prepared to fulfill Abiona’s last wish. Sprayed with honey-scented perfume, Sarah approached the girl’s bedside, carefully holding her tiny hand.
“Abiona, this is your mother,” Annie gently introduced.
Abiona, whose condition had worsened so much in just a day, believed Annie’s words easily. “You smell like Mom,” the girl whispered and opened her arms for a hug.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Sarah obliged, saying, “It’s because I am Mom.”
Abiona turned to Annie. “Thank you,” she whispered before falling asleep again. Sarah left a while later when it became clear that the girl wouldn’t wake up any time soon.
As the sun set, Annie watched over her daughter. Her breaths were too heavy, but that had been the norm for a few hours. She whispered to her, providing comfort and assurance in the quiet room filled with the soft beeping of machines.
She touched the girl’s head at some point and noticed the intense warmth. In her weakened state, Abiona faintly murmured “Mom” before falling back into unconsciousness. Annie rushed to find her doctor, who came in, did a quick examination, and exhaled, lowering his head.
“I’m afraid this may be it,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“No!” Annie wailed, hugging her child.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Abiona slept a little more soundly in Annie’s arms, but love wasn’t always enough. She passed after midnight with a final soft puff of air.
As the tears started flowing freely, Annie whispered, “You were loved. So loved. I’ll keep loving you forever.”
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
My MIL Kicked Me Out of Thanksgiving Dinner for Bringing a Store-Bought Pie — Karma Didn’t Let It Slide
Overwhelmed by new motherhood at forty, all Clem could manage for her mother-in-law Brenda’s perfect Thanksgiving dinner was a store-bought pie. Unimpressed, Brenda humiliated her in front of the guests and sent her packing. But when James, Clem’s husband, returned unexpectedly, karma stepped in. What began as a Thanksgiving disaster evolved into a reckoning for Brenda and the surprising start of a stronger family bond.
Motherhood at forty is no joke. People love to romanticize the late-in-life baby glow, but the reality? My glow was mostly sweat from trying to survive on three hours of sleep and caffeine I barely had time to finish.
Between the midnight cries, endless diaper changes, and the mental gymnastics of keeping another human alive, I’d lost all sense of time.
A woman holding a baby | Source: Midjourney
I hadn’t felt like myself in weeks. So, when Thanksgiving rolled around, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to tackle my mother-in-law Brenda’s Martha Stewart-level expectations.
Brenda’s Thanksgiving wasn’t just a dinner; it was a performance. She’s the kind of woman who obsesses over place settings, insists on family members contributing elaborate dishes, and still finds time to “graciously” host.
Normally, I’d step up and make something. Pies, casseroles, tarts, cheesecakes, you name it. But this year?
A cheesecake on a stand | Source: Midjourney
This year, I grabbed a store-bought pumpkin pie on the way to her house and called it a win.
Look, I knew that it wasn’t going to go down well. But I didn’t really care. After a year of IVF treatments, a pregnancy that was high-risk, and a baby who zapped my energy instantaneously, I was exhausted. Brenda would be fine.
Right?
A pumpkin pie in a box | Source: Midjourney
I arrived balancing the baby strapped to my chest, a diaper bag slung over one shoulder, and the pie in one precarious hand. I felt like a walking circus act. Brenda opened the door, her smile tight, as it usually was when I showed up solo.
But it wasn’t my fault that James had been called onto a last-minute business trip.
Brenda’s eyes roamed me from head to toe. And when they finally landed on the pie, that smile fell faster than my self-esteem on a bad day.
“Clem, what’s this?” she asked, her voice clipped.
A baby strapped to her mom | Source: Midjourney
“Pumpkin pie, Brenda,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. “I bought it from the artisanal bakery. I didn’t have time to bake anything…”
She cut me off with a sharp sigh.
“You couldn’t even make a simple dessert, Clem? Everyone else managed, and they all have jobs and children.”
The interior of a bakery | Source: Midjourney
I swallowed hard, trying to explain how hard things had been with James out of town for work. And the fact that everyone else had kids above five years old. Eve, my daughter, was the youngest, at four months old.
“It’s been a little chaotic, Brenda. Between the night feeds and just… surviving, I didn’t have the bandwidth to make anything.”
She raised a hand, silencing me mid-sentence.
An annoyed older woman | Source: Midjourney
“This is just lazy, Clementine,” she declared, loud enough for the entire house to hear. “You’re a mother now. You need to learn how to handle your responsibilities. James deserves so much better. Honestly. This baby deserves so much better.”
I felt my face flush with anger and humiliation. Where was the doting grandmother who ignored everyone else except the new baby? Where was the supportive mother-in-law who wanted to make sure that I was okay and managing?
An upset woman holding a baby | Source: Midjourney
The guests around us stopped their casual conversations and went eerily silent. Brenda’s best friend coughed awkwardly, while James’ sister, Sarah, shot me a wide-eyed look as if to say, What is she doing?
But still, no one stepped in. Not even to come and take my baby from me. Instead, I was holding Eve and the pumpkin pie, while the diaper bag lay at my feet.
A baby bag | Source: Midjourney
Then Brenda delivered her final blow.
“Maybe you should go home and think about your priorities, Clem. And there’s really no point to you being here. James isn’t here anyway.”
She was kicking me out. Over a pie. What was wrong with this woman?
The baby, as if on cue, let out a sharp cry. My hands shook as I tried to adjust the straps on the carrier, fumbling to grab my things. Eve was hungry. I told myself that I didn’t need this.
An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t need Brenda’s approval. But tears blurred my vision as I headed for the door, cradling my baby and piecing together what shred of dignity I had left.
Before I could leave, the door swung open.
Standing there was James, suitcase in hand, and his dad, Frank, carrying a bag of last-minute groceries that Brenda must have needed.
An open front door | Source: Midjourney
Apparently, my husband had cut his trip short to surprise me for Thanksgiving, and Frank had gone to pick him up.
“I couldn’t miss Thanksgiving with my two favorite girls,” James said, setting his suitcase and the diaper bag to the side. “Especially with it being Eve’s first Thanksgiving.”
I sighed, which forced James to look at me. Like, truly look at me.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
“What’s going on?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked from my tear-streaked face to Brenda’s defiant posture.
Brenda straightened, clearly caught off guard.
“Your wife brought a store-bought pie,” she started, her voice tinged with indignation. “It’s disrespectful.”
Frank let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.
A man standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
“Disrespectful? Brenda, half the dishes on this table were ordered because you didn’t know how to cook vegetarian dishes for Sarah.”
He gestured toward Sarah, who had suddenly become very interested in her wine glass.
Brenda’s face turned bright red.
Vegetarian meals on a counter | Source: Midjourney
“That’s… different,” she stammered.
“No, it’s not,” James said, stepping closer to me. “Mom, you kicked my wife out over a pie? She’s been handling everything on her own while I’ve been gone, and this is how you treat her? Unbelievable. Disappointing. Have you even held Eve since Clem brought her over?”
The baby let out another small whimper as if punctuating James’ words. Brenda opened her mouth, but for once, no words came out.
Finally, she muttered something.
A woman holding a crying baby | Source: Midjourney
“I didn’t hear that,” James said.
“I said I’m sorry,” she snapped.
Then she turned to me, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“Please stay, Clem,” she said.
I glanced at James, who gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.
A woman cuddling her baby | Source: Midjourney
“Let me just feed Eve upstairs and I’ll leave,” I said.
“Honey, stay,” he whispered. “For me, please.”
His eyes softened as he bent to kiss Eve’s head.
So I stayed.
A couple holding their baby | Source: Midjourney
The rest of the dinner was painfully awkward. Brenda avoided me, sticking to the far side of the table like I might infect her with store-bought shame. Sarah quietly refilled my glass of grape juice when she thought no one was looking, and Frank made a point of chatting with me about anything other than pies.
James continued to pile my plate with turkey and roast potatoes, and a cheesy broccoli casserole that I loved, too.
Finally, I felt seen.
A glass of juice on a table | Source: Midjourney
After everyone left, Brenda found me in the kitchen. Eve was asleep and James and I didn’t want to wake her up, so, I was clearing out the kitchen. Brenda’s demeanor was softer now, almost hesitant as she walked in.
“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. It wasn’t fair,” she glanced down, fidgeting with the hem of her apron. “I’ve just been stressed out about hosting, and I took it out on you. That was wrong.”
A woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
The apology surprised me.
I wanted to lash out, to tell her how humiliating everything had been. But something about her expression stopped me. She wasn’t just embarrassed; she looked genuinely remorseful.
“And especially after everything you’ve been through to get Eve, I should have known better. You’ve made James so happy, Clem. First by being his wife, and then giving him a baby.”
I nodded, accepting her apology more for James’ sake than my own. I didn’t expect much to change.
An older woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
A few days later, Frank showed up at my house unannounced. He said he wanted to check in on the baby, and me. I appreciated the gesture, especially when he started coming by regularly to help out.
A week after that, Brenda tagged along.
She was holding two cups of takeaway coffee, a bag of cookies, and a box of donuts. She looked nervous, but determined to make things right.
A box of donuts | Source: Midjourney
“I thought you might need a break,” she said, stepping inside. “Here’s some treats, and point me to Eve. It’s grandma duty now.”
We sat in the living room, Brenda holding Eve, and we chatted like old friends.
It was surreal.
Brenda wasn’t just apologizing anymore. She was trying to make amends. Frank even winked at me as if to say, I told her to do this.
A woman holding a baby girl | Source: Midjourney
Since then, Brenda has shown up almost weekly, sometimes with coffee, sometimes with groceries. She’s offered to babysit so James and I could have a date night and even texted me a recipe for homemade pie.
We can bake one together next time.
Karma didn’t just humble her; it changed our relationship for the better. And now, whenever I see a store-bought pie, I can’t help but smile.
Pies on a counter | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
My Mother-in-Law Claims I Ruined Thanksgiving Dinner
When Scarlet arrives at her first Thanksgiving dinner as Shaun’s wife, she finds herself looking at a dinner table with no empty seats for her. Instead, she sees a smirking mother-in-law and her husband’s ex-girlfriend sitting next to Shaun, giggling away at his jokes… What will Scarlet do?
Thanksgiving was supposed to be one of those easy family get-togethers, where I could just relax, catch up with everyone, and enjoy some delicious food.
At least, that was what I’d hoped for.
A Thanksgiving dinner spread on a table | Source: Midjourney
But things get tricky when your mother-in-law is involved, especially one who still insists on inviting your husband’s ex-girlfriend to every single holiday meal. I’d had a few years of dealing with Angela’s snarky, passive-aggressive remarks, but this year, she really outdid herself.
I’ll never forget how that dinner crashed and burned on Thanksgiving, and somehow, I’m the one who got blamed for it all.
Shaun, my husband, had gone to Angela’s place a bit earlier that day. He wanted to help her set up while I made the pies.
A woman making a pie crust | Source: Midjourney
“I’ll go ahead and you take your time and make the pumpkin pie, honey,” he said. “And make the pecan pie extra sweet.”
He gave me a kiss on the head and bolted out the door. I wasn’t worried that he left early because Shaun was a menace when I was in the kitchen, always wanting my attention, causing a few burnt meals in the past.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
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.
Leave a Reply