After spending $30,000 trying to become a mother, I adopted two children with my husband, Andrew. Amara and Liam weren’t related by blood, but they were inseparable. Earning their trust took patience, and when they finally began to feel at home, we held a small welcome party.
That was when my mother-in-law, Gloria, called them her “fake grandchildren” in front of her friends. She said she would never leave them a dime and accused me of pretending to be a mother. Andrew heard enough to ask her to leave. Amara had tears in her eyes, and I promised her Gloria’s words did not reflect how we felt about her.
Months passed without a word from Gloria. Then, on Christmas morning, she appeared at our door holding a red envelope. Amara and Liam had sent her a card, choosing it, signing it, and arguing over the sticker themselves.
“I called them fake,” Gloria said, her voice breaking, “and they were the only ones who remembered me.”
I opened the door wider and told her she could thank them herself. I didn’t know whether she had changed, but I knew exactly what kind of children Amara and Liam were.