I never expected to become a mother to my mother-in-law’s children.
When Marley announced her IVF pregnancy at 51, William was furious. We barely spoke to her. Then her husband died, and suddenly, she was alone with twins and a broken heart. I couldn’t abandon her.
One night, as I helped burp one of the babies, she whispered, “I’m dying.” Then she told me the truth: William was adopted. She had spent her life yearning for a bond she couldn’t quite grasp with him, which was why she’d had these babies. Now, she begged me to raise them.
I promised.
After her death, I sat William down and revealed everything—his adoption, her illness, her final wish. He was silent for a long time. Then he asked to see the twins. When he cradled them, something shifted.
Today, we’re a family of seven. The twins don’t know their story yet, and maybe they never will. Because in our home, love doesn’t come with conditions—it just is.
