I always dreamed of becoming a mother, and finally, my dream was coming true. But the joy of expecting a child was overshadowed by my husband’s unexpected business trip and the arrival of a stranger who turned out to be connected to my past.
My husband David and I had been preparing and planning for a child for a long time, but for many years, nothing worked out. We had tried everything we could think of, and the constant disappointment was heartbreaking.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
But eight months ago, everything changed. I finally saw those coveted two lines on the pregnancy test. This pregnancy was the best thing that had ever happened to me.
The joy I felt was indescribable. I knew I would never abandon this child as someone once did to me. Even though I was adopted when I was a year old, and my adoptive parents were wonderful, learning that I was adopted broke me at the time.
It felt like a part of my identity was missing. But now, I was eagerly awaiting our baby, ready to give them all the love I had received and more.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
David and I decided to have a partner birth, so I knew it would be a special moment for both of us.
One evening, when David returned from work, he looked very tired and worried. I tried to find out what had happened, but he only responded that everything was fine.
We had dinner in silence, and I felt he wasn’t telling me something. The tension in the air was thick, and I could see he was struggling with something.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“David, please talk to me. It’s hard for me to see you like this,” I said, my voice soft but insistent.
David sighed heavily and rubbed his nose, looking down at the floor. “Alright,” he began slowly. “I’ve been sent on a business trip in ten days. I’ll be paid very well for it, and I thought it was a good opportunity since the baby is coming soon.”
“That’s great. Why do you look so sad then?” I asked, feeling a knot form in my stomach.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Because they don’t know how long they’ll need me there. They said to expect anywhere from two weeks to a month,” David said, his voice strained.
“But the birth could happen during that time,” I said, placing a hand on my stomach, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over me.
“I know. That’s why I’m in this state,” David replied, his eyes filled with worry.
“Then refuse,” I suggested, trying to keep my voice steady.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I can’t. It will affect my future work, and we could use the extra money,” he explained, frustration evident in his tone.
“But you might not be there for the birth,” I said, my voice breaking slightly.
David got up and came over to me, hugging me tightly. “That’s why I found a doula for you. I want you to have support while I’m away,” he said, his voice gentle.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I want to give birth with my husband, not some stranger,” I said, dissatisfied.
“I know. But Martha is very good, and many people recommended her to me,” he tried to reassure me.
“I don’t like this idea,” I said, shaking my head.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’ll try to return as soon as possible, but I want us to have some backup. Let me arrange a meeting with her while I’m still here. If you don’t like her, we’ll look for other options,” he offered, trying to find a compromise.
“I don’t want other options. I want you to be with me,” I insisted, feeling tears well up in my eyes.
“I want to be with you and the baby too,” David said, placing his hand on my belly. “That’s why I feel awful about having to leave. But we’ll get through this, and I hope to be back before you start giving birth, okay?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Okay,” I said softly.
That evening, we just lay together, hugging, as if not wanting to let each other go for even a moment. The fear of him not being there for the birth was heavy in my heart, but I knew we had to face this together, even if it meant being apart for a little while.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Two days after that conversation with David, I was on my way to meet the doula, Martha. To be honest, I wasn’t very positive about this meeting because I didn’t fully understand how a stranger could support me during such an important moment.
I parked near the café where Martha and I had agreed to meet and went inside. The café was warm and inviting, with the rich smell of coffee filling the air. I looked around, not knowing which of the people there was Martha.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Suddenly, a woman sitting alone at a table waved at me, and I realized it was her. She looked older than I expected, around 50, with kind eyes and a gentle smile. I approached and sat at the table.
“Hi! I’m Martha, and you must be Sheila,” she said, her smile warm and inviting.
“Yes, but how did you know it was me?” I asked, a bit surprised.
“You looked confused… and pregnant,” she added with a gentle laugh.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Right, I just feel like this belly has always been with me,” I said, laughing too.
“I understand, but believe me, you’ll feel such relief when it’s gone,” Martha said, nodding.
“I can only imagine,” I replied, trying to picture that moment.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Martha and I talked for two hours. She explained what her work would involve and how she could help me. She spoke about different techniques for pain management, relaxation, and support during labor.
I described how I envisioned the process, emphasizing the importance of a calm and supportive environment. It turned out our views were very similar, and we immediately found common ground.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Martha’s experience and empathy reassured me, and I was grateful to David for coming up with this idea.
As the conversation was ending, Martha asked, “Do you have any more questions for me?”
“Yes, I don’t want to be tactless, but do you have children?” I asked, feeling a bit awkward.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“No, I decided to dedicate my life to medical school and then to working in this field, but now I’m here,” Martha said, smiling. “But I have given birth,” she added softly.
“Oh…” I said, sensing it might have been something very personal and possibly traumatic for her.
We stood up from the table, and Martha came over to hug me goodbye. As she hugged me, I noticed her looking at the large birthmark on my shoulder.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“In my teenage years, I thought about removing it because I didn’t like it, but now I consider it my unique feature,” I said, trying to make light of it. Martha looked at me, puzzled. “I’m talking about the birthmark,” I added for clarity.
“Oh, yes. It’s very nice,” Martha said, rushing off. I didn’t understand her behavior but decided to ignore it. Maybe she remembered she was late for something.
As I left the café, I felt a mix of relief and curiosity, wondering more about this woman who would be by my side during such an important moment.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Time passed, and my due date was approaching. It was hard without David during this period, but Martha was very supportive. She visited almost every day and even helped with household chores.
Her presence was comforting, and she always knew how to calm my nerves. I felt like Martha understood me like no one else. It was as if we were related, and I couldn’t shake that feeling.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
David was supposed to fly back home that day, and I just hoped he would make it before our baby started to arrive. Martha and I were checking my hospital bag, probably for the tenth time, due to my anxiety.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure everything you need is there. If anything is missing, I’ll definitely bring it,” Martha said, her voice calm and reassuring.
“I know, I just want everything to go perfectly,” I replied, trying to hide my anxiety.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, dear. This is childbirth; it can’t be perfect. But your baby will be, and that’s what matters,” she said, smiling.
“Thank you, Martha,” I said, feeling a bit better. I went to the kitchen to pour myself some cold juice. As I approached the fridge, I felt something was wrong. I realized my water bag had broken. I immediately went to Martha.
“My water broke,” I said, panicking, my voice trembling.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Quick, sit down,” Martha said, helping me to the couch. Within seconds, I felt the first contraction and screamed.
“Breathe, remember how I taught you to breathe,” Martha said. But the pain was too intense for me to think clearly. “Breathe, Amber, breathe,” she said, and it snapped me out of my panic.
“What did you call me?” I asked, confused.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I meant Sheila, sorry, I made a mistake,” Martha said quickly. “But you need to focus on your breathing now.”
“When I was born, they named me Amber. But my mother abandoned me, and my adoptive parents renamed me when I was a year old, right after they adopted me. Don’t tell me this is a coincidence,” I pressed her, my heart racing.
“Sheila, it truly is just a coincidence,” Martha said, her face serious.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“What happened to the baby? You said you gave birth but have no children. What happened to that baby?” I asked, my voice rising.
“I gave her up for adoption,” Martha answered quietly.
“It was me, wasn’t it? I felt something was off. I noticed we were too similar,” I said, my voice shaking.
“Sheila, you need to focus on your baby now,” Martha said, trying to keep me calm.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“It was me?!” I shouted, feeling a mix of anger and confusion.
“Yes,” Martha admitted.
“And how long have you known?” I demanded.
“Since our first meeting when I saw your birthmark,” Martha said, her eyes filled with regret.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I can’t believe you’ve been lying to me all this time!” I cried, feeling betrayed.
“Sheila, I wanted to do the right thing,” she said, her voice breaking.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to see you,” I said, struggling to get up from the couch, grabbing my hospital bag, and heading to the car.
“What are you doing?” Martha shouted after me.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’m driving myself to the hospital, and you can leave. I don’t want to see you,” I replied.
“That’s dangerous!” she shouted, but I ignored her. The contractions were coming fast, but I couldn’t think about anything other than getting to the hospital and being away from Martha.
I got into the car, feeling intense contractions but trying to drive anyway. The pain was overwhelming, making it hard to focus on the road. The drive to the hospital felt endless, each bump and turn amplifying the agony.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
I kept trying to call David, but he wasn’t answering his phone. He was probably still on the plane. I prayed he would make it in time.
When I finally reached the hospital, nurses surrounded me with concern. They asked me many questions I couldn’t answer in my state. They quickly put me in a room, and a doctor told me I would give birth within two hours.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
My labor was progressing rapidly. David still hadn’t called me back, and the worry added to my pain. My whole body was in agony, and I felt like I couldn’t bear it any longer.
Suddenly, I saw the door to the room open, and Martha walked in.
“I don’t want to see you!” I screamed, my voice filled with pain and anger.
Martha calmly approached me. “I called David. He was leaving the airport and should be on his way here,” she said. “I know you’re angry, but I can help you until David arrives.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t need anything from you!” I shouted, but then another contraction began, making me cry out in pain. Martha breathed with me and applied a cold compress to my head.
I decided to stop arguing. I really needed support, even if it was from the woman who had abandoned me and then lied. An hour later, the pushing began, and the doctor said it was time to give birth.
“I don’t want to give birth without David!” I cried. “He should be here soon.”
“Sweetheart, the baby is the priority now, and we can’t delay,” Martha said gently.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“No! I want my husband by my side!” I pleaded, but they didn’t listen. The doctor and nurses gathered around me. “Please, wait for David!”
Suddenly, the door to the room opened, and a breathless David walked in. “It’s okay, I’m here,” he said, taking my hand. Relief washed over me as I felt his strong grip.
David and Martha supported and helped me as much as they could. Martha held my hand and reminded me to breathe while David stayed by my side, encouraging me.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, my daughter was born. It was the best and happiest moment of my life. Her first cry filled the room, and tears of joy streamed down my face.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
A few hours after the birth, Martha came to me. David was asleep in a chair, holding our daughter.
“I’m sorry for abandoning you and lying, but—” Martha began, her voice soft and filled with regret.
I interrupted her, “I don’t want to talk about this now. But we will discuss it later, and you will explain everything to me.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
I didn’t want to spoil this day with unpleasant conversations. Martha nodded sadly and was about to leave the room.
“Can you bring me some cold juice? I didn’t get to drink it,” I asked her, trying to keep things light.
Martha smiled. “Of course,” she said and left the room. As I watched her go, I thought that now that I was a mother myself, maybe I could understand why she did what she did.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
I Asked My Neighbor to Clean Up After She Used My BBQ — The Next Day She Stuck Rules for My Property on My Door and Demanded I Follow Them
Camilla lets her new neighbor, Claire, use her grill… until she returns home to a backyard disaster. When she asks for basic respect, her neighbor demands that Camilla follow her rules. But when Camilla exposes the truth online, the fallout is far worse than anyone expected. Some lessons are only learned the hard way.
When my new neighbor, Claire, moved in six months ago, I thought she was normal. Like just a woman who would stay in her lane and not disturb the neighborhood too much.
A moving van and boxes | Source: Midjourney
I mean, she was in her 40s, lived with her 16-year-old son, Adam, and at first, she seemed chill. Friendly, even. I lent her a ladder, a garden hose, even let her use our outdoor grill station when we weren’t home.
I didn’t think much of it. It’s just being neighborly, right?
Wrong.
One weekend, my husband, David, and I took the kids to visit my parents.
A smiling woman with her son | Source: Midjourney
“We can have a date night while your parents take over with Grandma and Grandpa duty,” David said, packing snacks for the two-hour drive.
I had to admit, I was ready to get out of town for a while. I had been feeling restless, and I just wanted a change of scenery before I started to feel suffocated.
We were gone for two days.
And when we got back?
Containers of food on a kitchen counter | Source: Midjourney
My God.
Our backyard looked like it had survived a frat house BBQ apocalypse.
There were empty beer bottles littering the patio, my potted plants were turned upside down, and the kids’ toys were thrown everywhere. Grease stains covered the deck. Our once-beautiful grill station looked like it had barely survived an explosion.
I stood there, staring at the mess, my eye twitching.
A trashed deck | Source: Midjourney
Deep breaths, Camilla, I told myself. Maybe there’s an actual explanation for this.
So, I went next door and knocked. Claire answered, still in pajamas, looking completely unbothered.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, laughing. “That was Adam’s birthday party. You know kids, right? It’s just what they do.”
I blinked. My brain felt like it was ticking away.
A woman standing in her doorway | Source: Midjourney
That’s just what kids do? Was she mad? Didn’t she see the mess? What the hell?!
“My backyard isn’t a public park, Claire. You could’ve at least cleaned up.”
“Oh, don’t be so uptight, Camilla,” she said, shrugging. “It’s just a little mess. You’ll get over it. Surely, you and your husband can use a hose? A little bit of water will clear that up.”
A woman with her hands on her hips | Source: Midjourney
I could have thrown something at her.
Oh, I’ll get over it? Um, sure.
I went back to my home, trying to figure out what to do. I could be reasonable, or I could be erratic and make Claire pay.
“What’s that look on your face?” David asked as I walked into the kitchen. “Found the culprit?”
An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney
“It was Adam’s birthday party. Apparently, that’s how he spent it.”
“Isn’t he, like, sixteen?” David asked, making me a cup of tea.
“Something like that,” I said, getting the jar of biscuits. “Oh my goodness. Underage drinking! There are so many beer bottles out there.”
David looked at me and laughed.
A frustrated woman | Source: Midjourney
“Every kid does it at least once, Cami,” he said. “But, I mean… you could use that as leverage, right? To scare the kid?”
I nodded.
“But I want Claire to feel something, too. She told me that we could just hose down the mess and that I’d get over it.”
We had our tea in silence while I tried to figure out what to do.
A jar of biscuits and a cup of tea | Source: Midjourney
Okay, Cami, I thought. Let’s try being reasonable first.
I grabbed a notepad and wrote down three simple rules:
- If you use something, clean it and put it back.
- Respect my property.
- Clean up after your child.
The next morning, I went over to Claire and handed it to her. I expected a mature response. But what I got in return was anything but.
A woman holding a sheet of paper | Source: Midjourney
The next day, I woke up to a list of her rules taped to my front door.
It was not a joke. It was Claire’s rules. For my property. My property.
I nearly choked on my coffee as I read the note.
A woman holding a piece of paper | Source: AmoMama
Dear Neighbors!
To keep things fair and neighborly, I’ve put together some simple rules:
Please follow these to avoid any issues.
- No grilling past 7 PM. The smell keeps me awake.
- No spicy seasonings when you’re cooking. My son doesn’t like the smell.
- If I’m using the grill, please stay out of the yard. It is distracting, and I don’t like when strangers watch me cook.
- Notify me before grilling so I know who’s using it. Schedules are key.
- Your garden hose is for community use. I may need it for washing my car and watering my garden.
- Patio furniture is for everyone!
- When you mow your side of the lawn, do mine too. It looks so much better that way.
- Be patient if my son leaves trash in your yard. Kids will be kids, and it’s not a big deal!
- Sometimes I need extra parking space. I might use your driveway when needed.
- Also, if you ever have concerns about these rules, feel free to discuss them with me. But please remember, I know what’s best for our community!
I’m looking forward to a harmonious neighborhood!
A woman reading from a piece of paper | Source: Midjourney
I read it twice to make sure that my eyes weren’t deceiving me.
This woman really thought she had just annexed my backyard into her personal kingdom. Then my eldest kid, Olivia, came running up, phone in hand.
“Mom, you need to see this,” she said. She showed me a video.
A girl holding her phone | Source: Midjourney
Claire’s son, Adam, had been posting TikTok videos.
From our backyard!
In the clips, he and his friends laughed about using our space like it was their personal hangout. And then they trashed the place on camera.
Oh. Oh.
I grabbed my phone immediately.
A close up of a shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
I walked to my backyard and filmed everything. The litter, the grease-stained grill, the beer bottles still rolling on the patio. I zoomed in on the ridiculous list of rules Claire had taped to my door.
And then I posted it on my socials.
As for the caption?
Glad my neighbor and her kid enjoy my backyard more than I do! Check out the rules she gave me!
Within three days, the video had 5 million views, with people sharing it like wildfire.
A phone opened to social media | Source: Midjourney
People flooded the comments:
Excuse me? Her rules?! For YOUR house?!
No way, put up a fence ASAP. These people are insane.
What game is she playing at?
Tell me you have an entitled neighbor without telling me you have an entitled neighbor.
Comments on a social media post | Source: Midjourney
Then someone offered to help.
A man in the comments said that he specialized in building chain-link fences. By the end of the week, my backyard was sealed tighter than Fort Knox.
There were no more:
Oops, my son and his friends needed a place to hang out!
I just needed to wash my car real quick, Camilla.
A fence dividing two houses | Source: Midjourney
If Claire wanted access to my space… too bad, because she wasn’t getting it. And she noticed the fence immediately.
She stormed over, holding a wooden spoon, and pounded on my door.
“You’re breaking my rules!” she screeched. “Goddammit!”
I smiled sweetly.
A woman standing at her front door | Source: Midjourney
“What’s with the spoon?” I asked. “What have you been baking?”
She looked at me like I was mad.
“I said that you’re breaking my rules, Camilla!”
“Oh, sorry,” I said, my voice dripping with fake innocence. “I just thought since we had different house rules, it was best we keep things separate.”
An upset woman holding a wooden spoon | Source: Midjourney
She fumed.
I sipped my coffee and smiled.
My water bill improved overnight. Suddenly, Claire didn’t have access to my hose anymore. My driveway stayed empty because there was no more free parking for her.
And then…
Two days later, there was a knock on the door around dinnertime.
A woman reading a book | Source: Midjourney
Not Claire.
Adam.
The 16-year-old looked absolutely miserable.
“Ma’am, please,” he muttered. “Please… you’re ruining my life.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
A teenage boy standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
“Those videos that you made,” he groaned. “Now I have trouble at school because of you! At first, I thought it was cool and that nobody would notice anything. But then people realized that it was me. And now they won’t let me live it down.”
Oh, so he outed himself and he was mad about it?
I tilted my head.
Students sitting in a classroom | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, that sounds rough, buddy,” I said. “But you know, actions have consequences. Do you understand that you should have just cleaned up after yourself? There was no need to trash the place. I was fine with you using it. I was fine with you having your friends around. But what you did…”
“Yes, I do understand,” he said quietly.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll delete the videos. But please remember, do not use someone else’s property as your own. Don’t take advantage of a good thing.”
A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
He nodded and walked away.
The night air was cooler than usual, and the quiet hum of the neighborhood felt almost… peaceful.
I stepped outside, tightening my robe around myself as I walked toward the trash bins. The motion sensor flicked on, casting a harsh yellow glow over my yard.
And that’s when I saw her.
A woman holding a bag of trash | Source: Midjourney
Claire.
She was leaning against the side of her house, a cigarette dangling between her fingers.
Her shoulders were curled inward, and her hair was messy and unbrushed. She looked nothing like the smug, entitled woman who had taped her ridiculous rules to my door.
For a second, I considered ignoring her.
A woman smoking outside | Source: Midjourney
But then she exhaled slowly, tilting her head toward me.
“You win,” she muttered, her voice hoarse.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
She took another drag from her cigarette and then laughed quietly to herself.
A woman holding a cigarette | Source: Midjourney
“You heard me, Camilla,” she said, waving the cigarette in the air. “You won. Congratulations. You should see what people are saying about me…”
I stared at her, trying to decipher her tone. It wasn’t mocking. It wasn’t even angry. It was just… tired.
Defeated.
I dropped the trash into the bin, dusting off my hands.
“Not really sure what you mean, Claire,” I said. “I didn’t realize this was a competition.”
Two outside bins | Source: Midjourney
She scoffed.
“Oh, come on, Camilla,” she muttered. “We both know what this is. You didn’t like how I did things, so you went nuclear. You put my kid on blast, for goodness’ sake. You ruined his life.”
I crossed my arms.
“Adam ruined his own life,” I said flatly. “I didn’t force him to throw a party in my yard. I didn’t force him to post videos bragging about it. And I sure as hell didn’t force you to act like my backyard was yours.”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
Her nostrils flared, but she didn’t argue.
For once.
She exhaled again, staring out at the darkened street.
“Do you know how hard it is to raise a teenage boy alone?”
I blinked slowly. That was… unexpected.
A woman standing outside | Source: Midjourney
I stayed silent.
She let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head.
“Adam doesn’t have a dad,” she said. “Never did. It’s just been us. And I tried to give him a good life, I did. But…” she shrugged. “Kids are kids, right? He made a stupid mistake.”
I narrowed my eyes.
A teenage boy sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“Claire, this wasn’t just a stupid mistake.”
She didn’t answer. She just took another slow drag.
“You know,” I said, my voice calm but firm. “I could have taken things a lot further.”
That got her attention. Her head snapped toward me.
“What?”
A woman standing outside | Source: Midjourney
“Seriously, Claire. You gave me rules for my own house. You let your kid treat my property like his playground. And when I asked for basic respect, you laughed in my face.”
She just stared at me.
“I could have taken legal action. I could have pressed charges. I could have gone to the police. I had enough proof. But I didn’t. I’m not a bad person, Claire. I just don’t like being walked all over.”
The exterior of a police station | Source: Midjourney
For the first time since I met her, she looked small. She turned away, flicking the ash from her cigarette.
“Yeah,” she muttered. “I get that now.”
I watched her for a second, letting the moment sit between us.
Then I nodded.
“Good.”
And with that, I turned and walked back inside, leaving Claire in the dark.
A woman walking back to her home | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
When Brooke returns home from a weeklong work trip, she’s eager to unwind with her favorite snack. But her peanut butter jar is mysteriously half-empty. Her husband, Aaron, is allergic, so who ate it? Determined to uncover the truth, Brooke turns to their security cameras and discovers a shocking secret: Aaron had been hiding a guest. What starts as suspicion unravels into an emotional journey neither of them expected.
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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