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From the moment my son Ethan was born, my mother-in-law, Margaret, was overly involved. She always brushed off my concerns with a laugh. “You're a new mom,” she'd say. “I know what's best.” Reluctantly, I let her babysit when I returned to work. She adored Ethan, though sometimes her affection felt… territorial. One Friday, my meeting ended early, so I decided to surprise them with cupcakes. As I entered the house, Margaret's voice drifted from the nursery. “DON'T WORRY,” she said, her tone low and soothing. “SHE WON'T FIND OUT WHO YOU REALLY ARE.” I froze. My heart raced as questions filled my mind. What did she mean?
From the moment my son Ethan was welcomed into the world, my MIL showed affection towards him, but that affection could easily be mistaken with obsession.
She convinced me she could take care of him better than I could because I was an inexperienced new mom. I didn’t think much about it and I didn’t get mad because I knew she loved him and wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.
Over time, however, her comments started bothering me. She criticized the way I fed him and kept repeating that he looked exactly like her son.
One day, she said Ethan resembled someone she had known forever. These words gave me chills, but I tried not to think about what she had to say.
When I was about to return to work and said I needed to hire a babysitter, my husband’s mom offered to babysit him. Although I felt uneasy, I still agreed because I knew that beside her awkward behavior around him, she loved him.
One day, I finished work earlier than usual and decided to buy some cookies and go home to my MIL, Margaret, and Ethan.
As I approached the nursery, I saw her cradling him in the rocking chair. But just as I was about to greet them, I heard her saying, “Don’t worry… She won’t find out who you really are.”
I felt chills going down my spine. What was she talking about?
“You’ll always be safe with me,” she continued. “I won’t let her ruin this. She doesn’t know, and she never will.”
“Margaret,” I said. “What have you just said?”
“Oh, I was just talking to Ethan,” she answered, aware I heard her words.
“What do you mean I won’t know who he really is? Tell me right away.”
Margaret felt overwhelmed. Realizing I wouldn’t let go, she reached to her purse and handed me an old photo of two newborn babies wrapped in matching blankets.
“Who are these babies, Margaret,” I asked in confusion.
It was then that my MIL told me my husband had a twin brother who only lived for three days.
The photo showed my husband, Peter, and his late twin brother James.
“But Peter never told me he had a brother,” I said. “That’s because he doesn’t know that. I didn’t want him to live with that pain,” Margaret said.
She believed Ethan was her late son James. She claimed he came to her again and asked me not to take that from her.
“You don’t understand. I lost James. And now, I have him back,” she said.
I told her her relationship with my son wasn’t a healthy one, but she wouldn’t listen.
Not knowing what to do, I asked her to leave and told Peter everything that night.
He was shocked. It was the first time he heard he had a twin brother. We both agreed that Margaret needed professional help.
The next day, we invited her over and told her she needed to start seeing a therapist if she ever wanted to be around Ethan again.
Both Peter and I were aware that my MIL carried her grief in her heart for so long.
“When I look at Ethan, I see James. I can’t help it. It’s like… it’s like he’s back,” she said, but agreed to start teraphy.
It took some time before Margaret was able to face her issue. The weight she carried began to lift, and she slowly saw Ethan for who he truly was.
Eventually, I was confident with leaving Ethan with her.
Margaret thanked me for giving her a chance to heal.
