When I married Toby, I considered myself incredibly lucky. Not just because I had found the love of my life, but because I had also won the mother-in-law lottery. Julia wasn’t just Toby’s mom—she became mine, too. She welcomed me with open arms and treated me like her own daughter.
“I told you,” Toby would say with a smile whenever I gushed about Julia’s kindness. “She’s loved you since the beginning, Larissa.”
Despite her age, Julia was full of life. She moved in and out of our house like a breeze, never needing an invitation. She always had an apron on, ready to take over the kitchen.
“I just want to feed you guys,” she’d say when I tried to make her sit down while I cooked for her.
“Mom, you should let Larissa cook for you once in a while,” Toby would joke, shaking his head.
Julia would just chuckle. “I have nothing else to do besides meet the ladies for drinks. Let me have this!”
And so, we spent countless evenings together, cooking, laughing, and filling the house with warmth. My own parents lived across the country, and while phone calls and video chats kept us close, nothing compared to having someone physically present. Julia filled that void for me, and I adored her for it.
After three years of marriage, Toby and I decided it was time to expand our family.
“I’m ready if you are,” Toby told me one evening, taking my hand. “I think it’s time now.”
I squeezed his fingers and smiled. “I’m ready.”
But as much as we wanted it, pregnancy didn’t come easy. Month after month, we were met with disappointment. And with each passing negative test, my heart sank a little more. Reality crept in—what if we just weren’t meant to have biological children?
“What do you want to do?” I asked Toby one night. “Should we keep trying?”
He nodded without hesitation. “Only if you want to. But I do. I really do.”
I knew he would never pressure me, but I also knew how much he wanted to be a father. And so, desperate and torn, I turned to Julia for guidance. She listened to my worries with gentle eyes and then took action in the most Julia-like way possible.
“Come on, we’re going to see someone,” she said one afternoon, dragging me to meet with a wellness coach.
She booked fertility massages for me, insisting they would help. Then, she did something unexpected—she bought us a brand-new mattress.
“Maybe your body just needs better rest,” she said with a shrug. “Maybe you need to give yourself the best chance possible.”
“Do you think that was a little unnecessary?” I asked Toby that night as we lay on our new mattress.
“Normally, I’d say yes,” he admitted. “But maybe Mom has a point. Our old mattress was terrible. Maybe this will help.”
And somehow, it did. Less than a month later, I found out I was pregnant.
At first, I was too nervous to tell anyone. A part of me felt like acknowledging the pregnancy would jinx it. But keeping it a secret felt just as wrong.
“Toby,” I whispered one night, holding up the positive test.
His eyes widened, and then he scooped me up into his arms. “Thank goodness! Finally!”
Once we made it to the second trimester, we shared the news with our families. Julia was ecstatic. And before we knew it, our beautiful daughter, Maddie, was born.
Julia threw herself into helping us adjust to parenthood. She cooked, cleaned, and even took over Maddie’s early morning feedings so I could rest. With my parents unable to visit yet, having Julia around felt like a blessing.
Until the night Toby found something that changed everything.
One evening, Maddie had a diaper blow-out—one of those legendary ones that no amount of wipes could fix.
“You take care of the baby,” Toby mumbled sleepily. “I’ll sort the bed.”
I took Maddie to the bathroom for a bath, cooing at her as she giggled and pressed her tiny hands to my face.
“Sweet girl, you just have to make life difficult for Mom and Dad, huh?”
Meanwhile, Toby was stripping the bed—only to uncover something strange.
By the time I returned, Maddie already drifting off to sleep in my arms, Toby stood frozen, holding something in his hands.
“Oh, honey,” he said, his voice laced with unease. “We cannot use this mattress anymore.”
I frowned. “What do you mean? Did Maddie’s mess get through to the mattress?”
He shook his head and lifted the mattress so I could see. “No. It’s not that.”
I stepped closer, confused. “Then what is it? It’s just a mattress, Toby. We’ll clean it—”
“No, Larissa,” he interrupted, his voice rising slightly. “It’s not just a mattress. Look what I found.”
He handed me a small silk bag. I turned it over in my hands, puzzled. Inside were various dried herbs, wrapped tightly together.
“What is this? Where did you find it?” I asked.
“It was pinned to the mattress, under the protector. We never noticed it before.”
“Okay, but… what is it for?”
“It has to be fertility herbs!” Toby exclaimed, his voice tinged with realization. “Mom must have put it there.”
“No way,” I said immediately. “She would never do something like that.”
“Then where did it come from?” Toby asked flatly.
That night, he refused to sleep on the bed. Instead, we stayed in the guest room, the same room Julia used when she slept over. But sleep evaded me. I kept staring at Maddie, peacefully nestled between us. She had my hair, Toby’s eyes. She was ours in every sense of the word.
But there was no denying that she had come into our lives shortly after Julia had gifted us the mattress.
The next morning, I woke to the smell of burning.
I rushed outside to find Toby standing over a bonfire—our mattress engulfed in flames.
“Toby! What are you doing?” I gasped.
“We couldn’t keep it, Larissa. We just couldn’t.”
Later, when Julia came over, Toby didn’t hesitate.
“Mom,” he started, his voice firm. “Why didn’t you tell us about the herbs?”
Julia’s face crumpled. “I just wanted to help. I knew you were struggling. I thought if it worked, you wouldn’t care how. I never meant to hurt you.”
“What else did you do? What’s in the bag?” Toby pressed.
“Nothing! Just dried herbs! I can even take you to the store I got them from. It’s a natural wellness shop next to my dentist.”
I exhaled, my emotions tangled. I loved Julia. I knew she had good intentions. But why hadn’t she told me?
“You should have just told us,” I whispered. “How do we know if Maddie is a miracle or just an outcome of your herbs?”
“Does it matter?” Julia asked, her eyes brimming with tears. “Maddie is here. And she’s ours.”
Toby sighed, his stance softening. “Mom, if you ever do something like this again, you have to tell us. We need to know what’s happening in our own home.”
Julia nodded, smiling weakly.
As Toby searched for a new mattress, Julia baked us a tart for lunch. And I? I held Maddie close, knowing one thing for sure—no matter how she came to be, she was ours, and I wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world.
