After five years of no contact, my daughter Elena suddenly came back with her fiancé Darren and his baby daughter, Chloe, who was only six months old. I was shocked to see them.
We had just started talking again when, the next morning, I woke up to find they were gone. They had left Chloe, a diaper bag, and a short note that said, “Sorry.”
I raised Elena by myself, and we were very close until she went to college and changed. When she called to say she was visiting, I was hopeful we could fix things. But the visit turned into confusion. She never told me that Darren was a widower or that he had a baby. That night, she lovingly bathed Chloe and said she loved them both. I shared my worries, but she brushed them off.
The next day, they had disappeared. I took care of Chloe, kept calling Elena’s phone with no answer, and eventually contacted social services.
A social worker quickly found emergency care for Chloe. A few days later, I got a shocking phone call: Chloe’s real mother, Jenna, was alive. She was in a psychiatric hospital, dealing with postpartum depression and the death of her parents. Darren had lied to everyone.
I went to visit Jenna, and she cried when she learned Darren had left Chloe. She had no idea what happened. I offered to take care of Chloe until Jenna was ready to care for her again.
The court gave me temporary custody. Over the next year, Jenna and I grew close, sharing our pain and love for Chloe. When Jenna was healthy enough to take her daughter back, I returned Chloe to her — it was both sad and proud for me. Now, Jenna and Chloe visit me every Sunday, and Chloe calls me “Nana.” Elena never came back.
I still don’t know if Elena was tricked or if she helped with everything. But even though I lost my daughter, I gained a new one in Jenna — and a granddaughter in Chloe. Out of heartbreak, I found a new family.