My MIL Demanded $600 for Walking & Feeding Our Dog While I Was in Labor – I Agreed, but Only on One Condition

When I came home from the hospital with my newborn, I noticed a note on the table and assumed it was a kind message from my mother-in-law. Instead, it said she was charging us $600 for taking care of our dog while I was in labor. My husband promised to talk to her, but I had a better idea.

A few days before I went into labor, I was sprawled out on the couch, trying to manage the dull ache in my lower back that kept growing sharper by the minute.

A woman in her 30s, 9 months pregnant, sits on a couch looking worried and uncomfortable | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 30s, 9 months pregnant, sits on a couch looking worried and uncomfortable | Source: Midjourney

My golden retriever, Rich, rested his head on my lap, his big brown eyes watching me like he knew something was up. I scratched behind his ears, grateful for his calm presence.

“Jake!” I called my husband, my voice strained as another wave of discomfort rolled through me.

Jake was in the kitchen, stacking turkey and cheese onto a sandwich, his eyebrows crunched.

“Yeah, babe?” he replied, not even looking up.

A man in his 30s making a sandwich in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A man in his 30s making a sandwich in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

I sighed. “We need to figure out what to do about Rich while we’re at the hospital. Can we ask your mom to help out?”

We had a scheduled induction the following day because my baby was a week overdue, and I was ready to be done with this mess.

Jake walked over, sandwich in hand, and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead. “Don’t stress, Doris. Mom loves Rich. She’ll handle it.”

A golden retriever in a home | Source: Pexels

A golden retriever in a home | Source: Pexels

That was my husband. He shrugged off almost anything with an easy solution. His optimism was one of the reasons I loved him, but I’m not going to lie, it was also one of the things that often grated on my nerves.

But that might just be a product of the hormones and my discomfort. “Alright,” I said, leaning back into the cushions. “Just make sure she knows it’s only for a couple of days.”

Later that night, Jake called Abigail, his mom, and explained the situation. She agreed without hesitation. He hung up, grinning. “She said she’s happy to help. Problem solved.”

A man holding a phone | Source: Pexels

A man holding a phone | Source: Pexels

I guessed that would have to be good enough for me.

Jake and I packed our hospital bag that evening, and the next morning, we said goodbye to Rich. By the door, I knelt to scratch his fluffy head.

“Be a good boy for Grandma, okay?” He wagged his tail like he understood.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” Abigail waved me off with a smile. “I just wish I could be at the hospital.”

A woman in her 60s waving goodbye in a living room with a smile | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 60s waving goodbye in a living room with a smile | Source: Midjourney

That had been a slight issue. We had asked that our family not visit or accompany us to the hospital. My pregnancy had been rough enough, and I just needed my husband during labor.

If something went wrong, I didn’t want anyone else there either.

Abigail said she understood, but maybe she was still a bit salty about it.

“Mom, you know our wishes,” Jake intervened, smiling to take the sting out of his words.

“I know, I know,” she said. “You modern kids! Now, go have my grandchild.”

“Thank you, Abigail,” I said, and with that, we went out the door.

A pregnant woman in her 30s waving goodbye with a small smile | Source: Midjourney

A pregnant woman in her 30s waving goodbye with a small smile | Source: Midjourney

***

I never got to be induced. My water broke just as we were entering the hospital… and honestly, we, women, need to talk about labor with each other and our daughters more often because this was hell.

I spent hours gripping the hospital bed rails like they were the only thing tethering me to reality. Between the contractions and the endless poking and prodding from nurses, I thought I might lose my mind.

Jake was by my side the whole time, holding my hand and trying his best to keep me calm, though he looked like he was one more contraction away from passing out himself.

A woman in her 30s in a hospital looking in pain while in labor | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 30s in a hospital looking in pain while in labor | Source: Midjourney

But all the pain and the exhaustion melted away the moment they placed my son in my arms. He was tiny, wrinkly, and absolutely perfect.

Jake and I cried like idiots. It was a marvel that we’d brought this little person into the world. For three days, the hospital was our bubble of joy.

When we were finally allowed to go home, I felt relieved. We carefully carried our child through the hospital doors toward the parking lot.

A parking lot | Source: Pexels

A parking lot | Source: Pexels

Jake called Abigail to tell her we had been discharged, and she said she was going to give us a few days to get settled before meeting the baby. That was so kind of her!

As we pulled up to our driveway, I thought about settling on our couch and getting Rich to meet his new little brother. It was going to be perfect… yeah, no.

The first thing I noticed when we walked into the kitchen was a folded piece of paper on the table. My heart fluttered, thinking Abigail had left us a sweet “Welcome Home” note.

A folded piece of paper on a kitchen table | Source: Midjourney

A folded piece of paper on a kitchen table | Source: Midjourney

I carefully shifted the baby in my arms and opened it, already imagining something like “Congratulations on your new bundle of joy!”

Instead, the note read:

“You owe me $600 for feeding and walking Rich. My time costs money. You have my bank details.”

For a moment, I just stared at it, sure I was reading it wrong. But nope. It was real. My mother-in-law was demanding money for watching our dog.

It’s not that I didn’t want to pay for services like that, but she was family AND she never mentioned charging us.

A woman's hand holding a piece of paper with a note | Source: Midjourney

A woman’s hand holding a piece of paper with a note | Source: Midjourney

“Jake,” I called, my voice sharp. He was in the living room, setting down the car seat. “You might want to come see this.”

He walked in, took one look at the note, and groaned. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” I said, waving the paper in his face. “Your mom’s demanding money for taking care of Rich while I was pushing your child out of my body.”

Jake ran a hand through his hair, already looking defeated. “I’ll talk to her,” he muttered.

A man in his 30s looking exasperated, running his hand through his hair in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A man in his 30s looking exasperated, running his hand through his hair in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“No,” I snapped, stopping him in his tracks. “I’ll handle this.” My mind was already coming up with an idea, and it didn’t involve quietly paying up.

A week later, Abigail came over to see the baby. She strolled in with a big smile, kissed Jake’s cheek in greeting, and began cooing over my son like the most doting grandmother.

“Oh, he’s precious,” she said, cradling him in her arms. “He has Jake’s nose.”

A baby's face | Source: Pexels

A baby’s face | Source: Pexels

For a moment, I almost believed she was here just to see her grandson. But as she handed the baby back to me, she dropped the act.

“So,” she said, brushing her hands together. “When can I expect my money? I’ve waited long enough.”

I stared at her, holding my baby close. My smile didn’t waver. “Of course, Abigail. I’ll pay you—on one condition.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Condition? What condition?”

I walked over to the computer desk we kept in the area between the kitchen and the living room and pulled out a folder I’d prepared earlier. I’d spent the past few days going through every instance when Jake and I had done something for her.

A set of folders arranged on a desk | Source: Pexels

A set of folders arranged on a desk | Source: Pexels

Every favor, every single dollar we ever spent on her (excluding gifts) was all there in black and white.

“Well,” I said, flipping it open, “since you’re charging us for your services, I figured it’s only fair we do the same.”

I laid the folder on the table and slid it toward her. Abigail leaned over, her face tight with suspicion. “What is this?” she asked.

“You can think of it as an itemized invoice,” I said, keeping my voice light. “You know, like professionals do.”

Her face went pale as she grabbed the paper and scanned what I’d written.

A woman in her 60s looking surprised while holding a piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 60s looking surprised while holding a piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

“Let’s see,” I began, tapping the paper. “Helping you move houses last year? That’s $800. That’s cheaper than regular movers, so you can consider it a family discount. Then, there’s the time we paid for your car repair when your transmission failed. That was $1,200. And the free babysitting I did for your neighbor’s kids at your request? That’s around $600.”

Two people moving boxes | Source: Pexels

Two people moving boxes | Source: Pexels

Abigail’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “This is ridiculous!” she finally sputtered. “You can’t charge me for things family does for each other!”

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Exactly,” I said, my tone sharp. “Family helps each other out without expecting payment. At least, that’s what I thought.”

A woman in her 30s holding a newborn in a blanket, talking and waving her hand | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 30s holding a newborn in a blanket, talking and waving her hand | Source: Midjourney

She tried to argue, but her words came out jumbled. “But… but this is different! I had to rearrange my schedule to take care of Rich!”

“And I had to rearrange my entire life to have your grandchild,” I shot back, shrugging. “So if you want to talk about fair compensation, I think we’re more than even.”

Abigail’s face turned beet red. She stood there for a moment, staring at me like she couldn’t believe what was happening. Then, without another word, she spun around and stormed out of the house, slamming the door so hard the baby started to fuss.

A woman in her 60s, her face blushed and pouting, looking angry in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 60s, her face blushed and pouting, looking angry in a living room | Source: Midjourney

Jake, who had been watching silently from the kitchen, walked over and shook his head, a small grin tugging at his lips. “No one should mess with my wife,” he said, wrapping me in his arms and kissing my cheek.

I couldn’t help but laugh as we pulled apart. “You got that right,” I replied teasingly, sinking onto the couch with the baby.

Rich trotted over, his tail wagging, and rested his head on my knee. I scratched his ears, looking down at the little bundle in my arms.

A golden retriever with a lolling tongue | Source: Pexels

A golden retriever with a lolling tongue | Source: Pexels

At that moment, I felt at peace. Abigail might not have learned her lesson, but at least she wouldn’t be bothering us about that $600 again. And if she ever did, well… I still had the folder.

Let her try me.

A woman in her 30s holding a newborn wrapped in a blanket, sitting on a couch with her husband smiling in the background | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 30s holding a newborn wrapped in a blanket, sitting on a couch with her husband smiling in the background | Source: Midjourney

Poor Woman Buys Old Stroller for Her Baby and Finds an Envelope Inside — Story of the Day

When Mariam bought a second-hand baby stroller for her daughter, she thought she was merely salvaging what little hope life had left her. But inside the tattered buggy lay something unexpected. An envelope that would change everything.

The road shimmered in the heat of the midday sun as Mariam pushed the second-hand baby stroller she’d just bought for a steal.

Her eyes stung, and tears trickled silently, splattering onto her trembling hands.

A close-up shot of a woman's eyes | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of a woman’s eyes | Source: Pexels

She looked down at the stroller. It had worn-out handles, faded fabric, and scuffed wheels. It wasn’t something she would’ve ever wanted for her baby, but life had other plans.

Before this cruel twist of fate, Mariam had been a different woman.

She dreamed of pink nurseries adorned with soft toys, tiny dresses neatly folded in a white oak dresser, and a crib that would rock her baby to sleep.

And a stroller that was supposed to be beautiful.

But Mariam’s dreams had shattered, blown away like dust in the wind.

A woman standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney

The memories of her high school days drifted into her mind as she walked.

That’s when she’d met John. They fell in love quickly, sharing dreams of a simple life together.

Soon, John proposed with a modest ring, and Mariam didn’t care that they had little to their names.

After their wedding, they moved into a small apartment. Mariam worked in the warehouse of a clothing store while John worked as a cashier at a local grocery store.

They didn’t have much, but they made it work.

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

Late-night laughter and cheap dinners carried them through until the day Mariam saw two pink lines on a pregnancy test.

John was super happy after learning about their baby, and so was Mariam.

From that day on, John worked twice as hard. He picked up double shifts, leaving for work before the sun rose and coming home after Mariam had fallen asleep.

Mariam continued working, too, until her swollen belly made it impossible.

A pregnant woman | Source: Pexels

A pregnant woman | Source: Pexels

Together, they pooled their savings, pinched every penny, and finally bought a small house. Holding the keys to their new house, they stood in the doorway, teary-eyed and grateful.

“Can you believe it, John?” Mariam whispered. “We did it. We made it.”

John kissed her forehead. “This is just the beginning, Mariam.”

But Mariam didn’t know then that life was waiting to take everything back in an instant.

It all happened on an ordinary Tuesday evening.

A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney

Mariam was seven months pregnant when she walked into the hospital for a routine scan. She had been there countless times before, but something about that day felt different.

The doctor glanced around the room. “Where’s your husband today, Mariam?”

“Oh, he couldn’t come,” Mariam replied with a smile. “He’s working a double shift. He wanted to be here, but we need the money.”

The doctor nodded, continuing with the ultrasound as Mariam lay there, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing outside.

A doctor doing an ultrasound scan | Source: Pexels

A doctor doing an ultrasound scan | Source: Pexels

An hour later, as Mariam stepped out of the hospital and into the bright afternoon sun, her phone rang. The number on the screen was unfamiliar, but she answered it.

“Hello?”

“Is this Mariam?” A voice on the other end asked, serious and clipped.

“Yes. Who’s this?”

“I’m calling from the STSV Hospital. Ma’am, your husband, John, has been in an accident. You need to come here immediately.”

Mariam froze. The ground seemed to shift beneath her feet.

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

“N-N-No, you’ve got it wrong,” she stammered, clutching the phone tightly. “My husband just called me… an hour ago. It can’t be him. You’re mistaken!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we need you to come as soon as you can,” the voice repeated.

Her heart slammed against her chest as she staggered backward, her legs giving way beneath her. A dull ringing filled her ears as the phone slipped from her hands. People hurried past, staring, but Mariam didn’t see them.

Everything around her blurred into nothingness.

The hallway of a hospital | Source: Pexels

The hallway of a hospital | Source: Pexels

When she opened her eyes again, Mariam was lying in a sterile white hospital room. The hum of machines surrounded her.

And then she felt it as her hands drifted to her stomach. Her bump was gone.

“No!” she cried out, bolting upright. “Where’s my baby? Where’s my baby?”

A nurse rushed to her side. “Calm down, Mariam. Your baby is safe.”

“Safe? What happened? Where is she?”

“You collapsed outside the hospital. We had to perform an emergency C-section to save the baby. She’s premature, but stable in the NICU.”

A newborn baby's feet | Source: Pexels

A newborn baby’s feet | Source: Pexels

She felt relieved, but the feeling faded as soon as she thought of John.

“Where’s John?” she whispered hoarsely. “Where’s my husband?”

The nurse hesitated. “He’s… he’s safe, Mariam. He’s in a nearby hospital. He’s been injured, but you’ll be able to see him soon.”

As soon as she was strong enough to leave her bed, Mariam demanded to see John. A doctor escorted her to the hospital where he’d been taken.

A woman standing in a hospital room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a hospital room | Source: Midjourney

That’s where she learned something that turned her world upside down.

“Mrs. Green, I’ll be honest with you,” the doctor said gently. “Your husband’s injuries were severe. The accident damaged his spine… he’s paralyzed from the waist down.”

When she met him in the hospital room, the look on his face told her he knew everything. So, she decided to stay strong for him and told him everything was going to be okay.

She told him they’d manage everything even if he couldn’t walk.

A woman in a hospital | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a hospital | Source: Midjourney

But John just stared at the wall as she talked to him. He didn’t even respond when she told him about baby Heidi.

After a few weeks, she brought John and Heidi home.

John sat silently in his wheelchair, his once-bright smile replaced by a heavy frown. The man who had once worked tirelessly for their future now barely spoke.

Mariam didn’t blame him. How could she? But she knew she had no choice. With John unable to work, it was up to her to keep their family afloat.

A man in a wheelchair | Source: Pexels

A man in a wheelchair | Source: Pexels

A week later, she was back at the warehouse, working long shifts to earn whatever she could. Sleepless nights caring for Heidi were followed by grueling days on her feet, but Mariam kept going.

One afternoon, as she counted the last few crumpled bills in her purse, she knew she had to buy something for her baby girl. She wanted to buy a stroller because carrying her baby everywhere was wearing her down.

So, she decided to visit the flea market that day.

A flea market | Source: Pexels

A flea market | Source: Pexels

The market bustled with life as Mariam walked slowly with Heidi in her arms. Soon, her gaze landed on a baby stroller tucked between an old rocking chair and a stack of dusty books.

The frame was sturdy, the wheels still turned, and the faded fabric looked clean enough. It wasn’t brand new, but it would do.

“How much?” she asked the vendor.

“Ten dollars,” the man replied.

Mariam exhaled in relief. She handed over her last ten-dollar bill.

A woman giving a $10 bill to another person | Source: Pexels

A woman giving a $10 bill to another person | Source: Pexels

Then, she brushed Heidi’s hair with her fingers and smiled.

“Ah, finally, sweetie,” Mariam cooed. “Mommy got you a new buggy. We’ll go home, clean it up, and then you can rest in it, alright?”

Once home, Mariam set Heidi on the couch and carefully inspected the stroller. It needed a good dusting, so she grabbed a rag and started wiping it down.

As her cloth ran over the padded seat, she heard the sound of something crackling.

An old stroller | Source: Midjourney

An old stroller | Source: Midjourney

“What is that noise?” Mariam muttered, stopping. She ran her hand over the seat again and heard the same faint crunching sound.

“Is there something… inside?”

Mariam’s fingers dug into the edges of the padded seat, tugging it free. Her breath hitched when she felt something hard tucked beneath it.

“What on earth?”

John, seated nearby, glanced at her curiously. “What’s going on?”

“I… I don’t know.” Mariam’s voice trembled as she pulled out an envelope. It was thick, crinkled, and sealed tightly.

Her eyes widened as she read the words scrawled across it.

A sealed envelope | Source: Pexels

A sealed envelope | Source: Pexels

From one poor mother to another.

Mariam’s hand trembled as she tore open the envelope.

“Oh my…” she said as her gaze landed on what was inside.

The envelope had ten $100 bills.

Behind them was a folded piece of paper. When Mariam unfolded it, she realized it was a letter.

A woman reading a letter | Source: Pexels

A woman reading a letter | Source: Pexels

“You probably bought this stroller because you’re not experiencing the best times in your life,” she read aloud. “Well, everybody has hard times, but you need to have hope because no storm is permanent. Here’s a little help from me to you. If you don’t wish to take it, you can always think of others in need of this money more than you. Decide wisely, and if you still do not want this money, then send it to the homeless shelter’s address mentioned here.”

John wheeled closer and looked at the $100 bills.

A man holding $100 bills | Source: Pexels

A man holding $100 bills | Source: Pexels

“There’s a lot of money here,” he said quietly. “Who leaves money in an old stroller?”

“I don’t know,” Mariam replied, shaking her head.

Then, her gaze landed on her baby girl, and she thought of keeping the money for a moment.

But then a pang of guilt gnawed at her heart.

“At least I have a home and something to eat,” she murmured. “There are people who need this more than I do.”

“What are you talking about?” John frowned. “Mariam, we can’t just give it away. Do you know what this could mean for us?”

A man in a wheelchair | Source: Midjourney

A man in a wheelchair | Source: Midjourney

“I know, John,” she said. “But I also know there are families out there with nothing. I’ll send it to the shelter tomorrow. It’s the right thing to do.”

The next morning, Mariam tucked the envelope into her purse and mailed it to the address in the note. She returned home with a strange peace in her heart, though John’s disappointment lingered silently between them.

Weeks passed. Life continued, hard as ever, until one afternoon, there was a knock on the door. Mariam opened it and gasped.

A close-up shot of an open door | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of an open door | Source: Pexels

Standing on the doorstep was an older woman in expensive clothes, her presence striking and unexpected.

“Hello there,” the woman said with a kind smile. “I’m Margot.”

“Uh, hi,” Mariam said. “Can I help you?”

“I hope you like the stroller you bought.”

“The stroller?” Mariam asked with wide eyes. “How did you know?”

“I had that stroller before,” Margot said. “And I put the $1,000 in it.”

“It was you?” Mariam asked. “Oh my God… Thank you so much for your kindness, but I didn’t keep the money. I—”

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

“I know what you did with it, Mariam,” Margot said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Please come in,” Mariam said, unsure of how the woman knew her name.

As Margot stepped inside the house, she glanced around at the peeling paint and old furniture. Then, she told Mariam why she was there.

“You see, dear, my husband and I tried for years to have a child,” Margot began. “When we finally had our daughter, she was the light of our lives. But she was taken from us far too soon. I thought I’d never find purpose again after losing her… and then my husband passed, too.”

A close-up shot of a woman crying | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of a woman crying | Source: Pexels

“I’m so sorry,” Mariam whispered, her heart aching for the woman.

“Before my husband died, he told me, ‘Darling, don’t let the world blind you. Not all that glitters is gold. There are people out there with true hearts of gold.’” Margot continued. “Those words stayed with me. So, I began a little experiment. I hid money in timeworn items at flea markets, leaving notes behind to see who would take it.”

“You did all that to… test people?” Mariam asked.

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“No,” Margot said. “I did that to find someone who’d prove that honesty still exists. And you did that.”

“But I just did the right thing,” Mariam said.

“And that’s exactly why I’m here,” Margot announced. “I run one of the largest apparel brands in the country. I’ve been looking for someone trustworthy, someone deserving, to help run my company. You’ve proven you’re that person.”

Run her company? Mariam thought. Am I dreaming?

A woman looking straight ahead, thinking | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead, thinking | Source: Midjourney

It was only a matter of a few moments that Mariam realized Margot wanted to hire her because of her honesty. She told Mariam there would be a training program after which Mariam would be able to join the company.

Margot even offered a pay that Mariam thought was too good to be true.

“Here are my contact details,” Margot said as she extended her visiting card to Mariam. “Call me when you’re ready, okay?”

“Thank you,” Mariam said. “I’ll definitely call you.”

A woman standing in her living room, looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her living room, looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

And that was the day Mariam’s life changed for the better. She accepted the offer and soon enrolled in the training program that would lead her to her dream job.

She couldn’t believe how a stroller and a little bit of honesty changed her life for the better.

If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: When my mother-in-law destroyed the stroller we bought for our newborn son, I was furious and heartbroken. I thought it was one of her usual stunts until she revealed the chilling reason behind her actions.

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.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*