A mother sold her old stroller to feed her four children, only to find it returned to her doorstep the next day with a note inside

A pregnant mother of three needs to sell her stroller to feed her three children after she was abandoned by her husband.

Anne Sargent sat on her kitchen floor and cried. It was past midnight, and it was the only time she could allow herself to show her pain — when her three children were asleep upstairs.

Anne felt the baby move and placed a tender hand on her belly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to her unborn child. “I’m doing my best, but it’s just not good enough…”

Just two months ago, Anne had been a radially happy wife and mother, confidently expecting the birth of her fourth child, and confident in her place in the world and her husband’s love. That woman was gone.

Derek had come home one night and told her he was leaving, just like that. “But why?” asked Anne. “I don’t understand, I thought we were happy!”

“YOU were happy!” Derek cried. “YOU, not me! All you did was have babies and fuss over them, now there’s one more on the way!”

“But you WANTED children!” Anne protested. “You were happy every time I was pregnant…”

A family is built on understanding and mutual respect.
“Happy?” screamed Derek. “Happy that you gave all your love and attention to the kids? All I was to you was a paycheck! Well, that’s OVER!”

So three months after Anne announced her fourth pregnancy, Derek was gone. Anne immediately went out and found herself a part-time job at a local grocery store.

The owner would have been willing to give her a full-time job, but for that, Anne would have needed to pay a sitter for her three boys and that would have consumed most of her salary, so she carefully stretched her salary. But even with the child support check Derek sent, it just wasn’t enough.

Anne started selling some antique china she’d inherited from her grandmother and that paid for the utilities for a few months. Then she sold a silver brush-and-mirror set she’d had since she was a little girl, and that paid for groceries. Little by little, as her belly grew, Anne sold her treasures to keep her family safe and fed.

Then one day, there was nothing left to sell except bric-a-brac. Anything of greater value was gone. Anne looked at the old stroller she’d brought up from the cellar.

It had been hers when she was a baby and had been used by each of her children in turn. It was very old, probably from the sixties, but it was in mint condition.

She ran her hand over the roses painted on the side and bit back her tears. She needed it for the new baby, but she needed the money even more.

She thought about getting a good price for it down at the flea market. Vintage items were always popular… And so she took the stroller to the flea market, and one of the dealers gave her $50 for it. Not much at all, but every cent helped.

Anne walked away, sure she’d never see the stroller again, but she was wrong. Two days later, she opened the front door and saw the stroller on the porch!

There was an envelope inside and Anne opened it and read: “Please call me.” The message was followed by a phone number. Anne called the number ad a woman answered her.

“Hello?” Anne said. “Are you the person who left the stroller? How did you know who it belonged to and where I live?”

“Derek told me,” the woman on the other side said. “I’m Grace Robbs. I think we should meet.”

An hour later, Grace was sitting on Anne’s sofa sipping tea. She was a pretty woman, six or seven years younger than Anne, and she looked very unhappy. Her pale skin was blotched and her eyes were swollen as if she’d been crying.

“How do you know Derek,” Anne asked, even though in her heart she already knew the answer.

“I was his girlfriend,” Grace said.

“Was?” asked Anne. “You broke up?”

“Today, as a matter of fact,” Grace said and started crying. “I didn’t know…I didn’t know about you or the children, or the baby… I found out I was pregnant, and I didn’t know how to tell him…”

“So I went to the flea market with a friend and saw this darling stroller and I bought it. I put it in the middle of the lounge and tied balloons to it with a message: ‘Hello Dad!’”

“But he wasn’t happy like I thought he’d be. He started screaming and asking where II got the stroller and if his stupid wife had given it to me. He asked if it was a joke.”

“He told me to take it right back, that he didn’t want to know about your baby. So I told him: ‘It’s for OUR baby.’ and that’s when he went crazy.”

“He accused me of wanting to trap him and said he already had three brats with you and one more on the way, and he didn’t want my baby. He told me to get out and come to you.”

“He said: ‘Might as well have all the breeding cows under the same roof.’ I’m so sorry, I didn’t know about you, I guess I didn’t know him at all!”

Anne got up and put her arm around the crying girl. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, you’ll see.”

“He’s kicked me out,” Grace said quietly. “I have no family here and nowhere to go. I have a job, but with the rents in this city, I can’t afford to live alone, and who is going to want a pregnant roommate?”

“I will!” Anne said firmly. “I need a tenant because what I earn isn’t enough, and I can’t work full-time because I can’t afford a babysitter for after school.”

“But…” Grace’s face lit up. “I work online! I can take care of the kids after school. I love kids!”

“So I can take a full-time job?” asked Anne, delighted. “The owner of the grocery store wants me to manage it for him. With your help, I can! And you don’t have to worry about stuff for the baby. After three kids I have enough for an army.”

Grace smiled through her tears. “And we have the stroller too…” she pointed out. “Are you sure? It’s Derek’s baby…”

“No,” Anne shook her head. “It’s YOUR baby, and my children’s sibling, that is all that matters.”

The two women settled into a new life together, and when Anne’s baby was born, Grace was there. When it was Grace’s turn four months later, Anne held her hand. They became a real family and raised their five children together.

As for Derek, he had several failed relationships and eventually came knocking on Anne’s door. He was shocked when he saw Grace there and asked to speak to Anne. “What do you want, Derek?” Anne asked.

“I miss you, babe…” Derek said.

Anne stared at him for a long moment then said, “Sorry, so not interested!” And she closed the door in his face.

What can we learn from this story?

If we work together, we can overcome any problem. Anne and Grace couldn’t survive alone, but together they were an unbeatable team.
A family is built on understanding and mutual respect. Anne and Grace forged a family out of their friendship and mutual support.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

My Husband and His Mom Ate All the Food I Cooked for Me and the Kids

Sometimes you have to remember your worth and stand up for yourself — this is what I learned after giving birth to my fourth child. Although the lesson came at a cost, I realized the alternative would have had far worse consequences.

Life has been overwhelmingly busy lately. Four months ago, I gave birth to a beautiful boy, Dylan, who joined his three siblings, all under eight. As you can imagine, managing a newborn, along with three other young children is exhausting but fulfilling in a way that’s hard to describe.

A mother and her newborn. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A mother and her newborn. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Becoming a mother has been the most significant role of my life. While pregnant with our first child, Tray, my husband George and I discussed whether I should return to work. We initially agreed that I would stay home for a year before resuming my career. However, when the time came, I realized I wanted to be a full-time mom.

This feeling of profound responsibility towards our children grew stronger with the arrival of each new family member. First Tray, then our daughter Lily, followed by Justin, and finally Dylan. Each addition reinforced my decision to focus on raising them.

A mother spending tim with her kids. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A mother spending tim with her kids. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

However, things at home began to change with Dylan’s birth. My mother-in-law started showing up at our house unannounced. She wasn’t coming to help with the children or the household.

She would say hello, then disappear into the kitchen to help herself to whatever she found, leaving dirty dishes behind. This happened several times, and each instance chipped away at my patience.

A woman sitting in the kitchen enjoying a meal and looking at her phone. For illustration purposes only | Source: Freepik

A woman sitting in the kitchen enjoying a meal and looking at her phone. For illustration purposes only | Source: Freepik

The situation escalated one morning after a particularly trying doctor’s visit with Dylan, who had just received his vaccinations. He was fussy, and I was running on little sleep.

All I craved was a soothing cup of coffee when we returned home. As I settled Dylan in his crib and finally headed to the kitchen, I heard the front door open and the familiar cheer, “Hi, dear! Just came to check on all of you!”

A cup of coffee. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A cup of coffee. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

It took a while to soothe Dylan, and by the time I reached the kitchen for my much-needed coffee, I discovered not only was the pot empty, but I also had no coffee filter left. My mother-in-law, oblivious to my need, casually took the last cup.

Watching her take that last sip, I felt a surge of frustration. Just then, Lily burst into the kitchen, her presence a brief distraction from my brewing anger. “Mommy, can we watch ‘Peppa Pig’?” she asked.

Young girl with her mother in the kitchen. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Young girl with her mother in the kitchen. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Masking my irritation, I smiled and nodded, asking if her brothers wanted to watch too. Once she scampered off, I turned back to face my mother-in-law, who, sensing the tension, quickly left.

When George came home, I told him about the ongoing issues and asked him to speak with his mother. He acknowledged that she had overstepped boundaries but failed to address it with her. That weekend, the unresolved tensions came to a head.

A couple discuss an issue in their relationship. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A couple discuss an issue in their relationship. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

After a night of little rest, overwhelmed by the unending demands of parenting, I managed to gather enough energy to make homemade pizzas with the kids.

They were thrilled with the activity, eagerly anticipating eating their creations for dinner. I put Dylan down for his nap right as dinner time approached, hoping for a peaceful end to the day.

A sliced pizzza. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A sliced pizzza. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

To my dismay, when I returned to the kitchen, I found the pizzas gone. George and his mother were in the lounge, nonchalantly enjoying the last slices.

My exhaustion turned to anger, and I confronted them loudly, asking why they had eaten the children’s dinner. Their shocked faces only increased my frustration. George tried to calm me, but it was too late; I was too upset to listen.

An angry woman. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

An angry woman. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I retreated to our bedroom, slammed the door, and broke down. Why was I the only one trying? Why couldn’t they see how hard I was struggling? Lily’s soft knock on the door pulled me from my despair. “Mommy, where is our pizza?” she asked innocently.

That moment crystallized my resolve. I had to stand up for my children and myself. After reassuring Lily, I confronted George and my mother-in-law again. They attempted to justify their actions by implying concern about my weight. That was the last straw.

A woman confronts her husband and mother-in-law. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A woman confronts her husband and mother-in-law. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Get out, both of you,” I said calmly, my voice firm. They left, and George spent the night at his mother’s house. The relief I felt after they left was palpable.

I ordered pizza for the kids and myself, and as we ate, I made my decision. The next morning, I asked my sister to watch the kids while I filed for divorce. I placed the divorce papers in an empty pizza box on the coffee table for George to discover.

Divorce documentation. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Divorce documentation. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

After informing my parents of the situation, they offered unconditional support. Staying with them allowed me to focus on healing and planning for the future. Within a short time, I regained my strength and prepared to face whatever came my way.

Now, I’m proud of standing up for what’s right for myself and my children. I’ve shown them what strength looks like and taught them the importance of self-respect and making tough decisions for the betterment of one’s future.

A woman enjoying life. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A woman enjoying life. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Had I not come to this realization, my kids would have grown up thinking it’s okay not to get support, care, or real love from those who claim to love you. Now they know their worth, and I will ensure they never forget it.

Like me, Lanie had a similar experience, but at least my husband didn’t insist I wash the dishes without leaving me anything to eat after tending to our newborn.

Five weeks after Lanie became a first-time mom, her mother-in-law also turned her life upside down. MIL made herself a constant fixture in their home, and it didn’t take long for things to unravel since she wasn’t really there to help Lanie and her husband acclimatize to their new responsibility.

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.

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