The nurse checked Lucy’s twins before sending them home, but Lucy was shocked when the nurse brought them back. Instead of a boy and a girl, as Lucy had given birth to, the nurse brought two baby girls.
Lucy and her husband, Ross, had tried for a long time to have children, and they were thrilled when they found out they were expecting twins.
An ultrasound had shown they were having one boy and one girl, so the couple was eagerly waiting for their arrival. But when the nurse returned with two girls after the examination, Lucy’s face went pale.

Source: Pexels“Where is my son? What have you done with him? And who is this other baby girl?” Lucy demanded, looking straight at the nurse who had just brought the babies back.
“They’re both your daughters,” said the nurse, Savannah, her eyes glued to the paperwork. “I checked everything twice, and there’s no mistake.”

“Are you serious?” Lucy snapped. “I have reports showing I was supposed to deliver a boy and a girl. And after the delivery, I was told the same. There’s no way they’re both girls!”
Lucy saw the fear in the nurse’s eyes as she looked up from her papers. She was about to confront her further when Dr. Linda Carter walked in. “Could you please keep your voice down, ma’am? This is a hospital,” she said calmly.

“Keep my voice down? Your nurse brings me the wrong child and tells me she’s sure of it! Is this how your hospital runs? Should I contact the head doctor about this?” Lucy shot back.
“I agree with my wife,” Ross, Lucy’s husband, added. “We don’t want to make a scene, but if our son isn’t returned to us, we’ll call the police!”
“Please, sir, calm down,” Dr. Carter responded. “I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding. Savannah has been with us for years. Maybe she grabbed the wrong paperwork. Savannah, may I see the documents?” Dr. Carter asked. Savannah hesitated and then stammered, “No need, ma’am…I mean, I checked them. They’re correct.”
Dr. Carter sensed something odd and said gently, “It’s okay. Just let me take a quick look.” But when she reviewed the papers, she realized Lucy was right.
“Please give me a moment,” Dr. Carter said. “It seems Savannah brought the wrong reports. Another patient named Lucy Matthews also delivered twins, and it seems Savannah got confused.”
“I’m glad you finally saw the mistake,” Lucy said coldly. “Perhaps next time, your hospital could hire more careful staff.”

“I’m truly sorry, ma’am,” Dr. Carter said, turning to Savannah. “Come with me, Savannah. We need to get the correct records.”
Lucy noticed the tears in Savannah’s eyes as she followed Dr. Carter. Something seemed strange, so she decided to follow them quietly.
She watched as they entered Dr. Carter’s office, where Savannah started to cry. The door was slightly open, so Lucy listened in.
“What were you thinking, Savannah?” Dr. Carter said firmly. “Lucy Matthews delivered twins: a boy and a girl at 10:30 a.m. today. The reports confirm it. Why aren’t you telling the truth?”
“I didn’t have a choice,” Savannah sobbed. “The other baby girl belongs to my sister. Her husband abandoned her when he learned of her pregnancy, and sadly, she passed away after giving birth. I wanted to adopt her, but my husband refused.”
“Why don’t you place her in a foster home?” Dr. Carter suggested. “She’d be taken care of there.”
“I can’t,” Savannah replied, still crying. “My sister’s last wish was for her daughter to grow up in a loving family. When I saw Mr. and Mrs. Matthews today, I thought they’d be a wonderful family for her. So I swapped Mrs. Matthews’ son with my sister’s daughter and took him to the nursery.”
“But that’s not right, Savannah,” Dr. Carter said gently. “You need to return their son now. We’ll keep this confidential. I’ll help you find a solution.”

Hearing this, Lucy felt a mix of emotions. Savannah had no ill intentions; she simply wanted her niece to be part of a loving family. Lucy quietly returned to her room.
A few minutes later, Dr. Carter brought Lucy’s son back and apologized. Having overheard the situation, Lucy chose not to complain. But that night, she couldn’t stop thinking about the other baby girl and her innocent face.
The next morning, Lucy confessed her feelings to Ross. “I can’t stop thinking about her,” she said. “I dreamt about her last night. She was in our home, living happily with us. It doesn’t make sense, but I can’t shake it.”
“It’s because of yesterday, honey,” Ross said, trying to comfort her. “Maybe you need a distraction. How about we go somewhere?”
“No, Ross,” Lucy replied. “I want to adopt her.”
“But honey!” Ross exclaimed. “Are you sure? We already have two newborns. A third would be a lot to manage!”
“I understand, but I can’t ignore this feeling,” Lucy insisted. “Can we please go to the hospital today?”
“Alright, if this is what you want,” Ross agreed. “I’m with you, but I just want to make sure it’s not too much for you.”
Ross eventually changed his mind when he met the baby. She had warm brown eyes with a hint of green and stared at him innocently. He couldn’t resist her charm.
“I’m so glad you’ve decided to adopt her,” Dr. Carter said. “She’s lucky to have found a loving family.”
“Well, doctor,” Lucy said, smiling, “after so much time trying for kids, we can’t ignore this chance now. Just let us know when we can bring her home.”
“As soon as the paperwork is ready,” Dr. Carter assured them.
In time, everything was arranged, and Lucy and Ross took the little girl home. They named her Amelia, and it felt like their family was finally complete.
Savannah often visited them to check in, grateful beyond words. She became a regular visitor, spending weekends with the twins, Sia and Mark, and Amelia.
My Parents Gave Me $10,000 to Pay for College — I Was Shocked to Find Out What They Wanted in Return

My Parents Gave Me $10,000 to Pay for College — I Was Shocked to Find Out What They Wanted in Return
I am about to graduate high school and I have been applying to universities and going on tours. My parents decided to gift me $10,000 to cover college costs. I was excited about this gift until they told me what they wanted in return. I refused their terms and walked away but now they are calling me ungrateful.

Parents giving cash gift to daughter | Source: Getty Images
Growing up in a small state with big dreams, I always envisioned my future in New York pursuing my dreams. My vibrant brushstrokes, which had been a part of me almost all my life, kept my dream going.
My room was a kaleidoscope of colors, filled to the brim with paintings that spoke volumes of my journey through high school. I won art competitions and its perks were evident in the array of accolades adorning my walls.

A young woman painting | Source: Getty Images
But art wasn’t just about the trophies; it was about the stories behind each brushstroke, each piece holding a piece of my heart. Among these masterpieces, a subtle hint of my side gig lingered, paintings created with love, for lovers, whispering tales of romance and passion.

A room with framed artwork | Source: Getty Images
Painting was more than a hobby to me, it was my passion and my identity. My parents, on the other hand, saw it as a fleeting interest, something that would never sustain a ‘real’ career. They encouraged me to explore more ‘practical’ fields, but my heart was set on pursuing an art degree in New York, a city that pulsed with creativity and opportunity.

A woman painting her room | Source: Getty Images
One evening, amidst my college applications and tours, the dinner table conversation started off innocently enough. My parents had a surprise for me, a gesture so generous it left me speechless. “We’ve decided to give you $10,000 to help pay for college,” my mom announced, her smile as warm as the summer sun.
I was over the moon. “Thank you so much! This means I can apply to my dream art schools in New York!” I exclaimed, visions of bustling city streets and inspiring art galleries dancing in my head.

A happy daughter receiving cash gift from parents | Source: Getty Images
But the warmth quickly faded as my dad cleared his throat, signaling the onset of conditions I hadn’t anticipated. “There are two rules,” he said sternly. “First, you can’t leave the state for university. And second, you can only choose from the degrees we approve of — medicine or law. We don’t think an art degree is the right path for you.”
My heart sank. “But I’ve been painting my whole life. You know how much this means to me,” I countered, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

A daughter sad at her parents terms | Source: Getty Images
“We’re doing this for your own good, Ruth. Stop being ungrateful. We just want you to have a secure future,” my mom chimed in, her voice softer but no less firm.
The argument that ensued was not just heated; it was a clash of dreams and practicalities, each word sharp with the tension of unmet expectations. “How can you call it help if it comes with strings that strangle my dreams?” I cried out, my voice cracking under the strain of emotion. My parents, steadfast in their stance, responded with equal fervor.

A mother repremanding daughter | Source: Getty Images
“Ruth, we’re not trying to strangle your dreams, that is an ungrateful thing to say. We’re trying to ensure you have a future that’s not dependent on whims,” my dad countered, his tone laced with frustration and concern.
“Art isn’t a whim! It’s who I am. Don’t you understand? By restricting me to medicine or law, you’re asking me to give up a part of myself,” I shot back, desperation creeping into my voice. Each word felt like a plea for them to see me, to really see the person I was and the dreams I harbored.

Very upset parents scolding their daughter | Source: Getty Images
My mom sighed, her usual composure faltering. “We’ve seen too many struggles in fields like art. We don’t want that life for you. Can’t you see we’re doing this out of love?”
“But love shouldn’t come with conditions that force me into a mold I don’t fit,” I argued, my heart aching with the need to be understood. “I appreciate the gift, I really do. But if it means sacrificing my passion, my dreams, then what’s it worth? Isn’t my happiness and fulfillment important too?”

Angry father with daughter | Source: Getty Images
The room fell silent, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. I stood there, feeling more alienated than ever. It was clear that the gap between us wasn’t just about the money or even about my career choice; it was about recognition, about them not validating my identity and aspirations.
Unable to bear the weight of their expectations and the pain of feeling so fundamentally misunderstood, I stormed out, the sound of my departure echoing through the house.

A daughter leaving home | Source: Getty Images
The door slammed shut behind me, a symbolic closure to a conversation that left me feeling more lost and alone than before. The gift that was meant to pave my way to the future now felt like chains binding me to a path I couldn’t walk, a future I couldn’t accept.
In the weeks that followed, I sought refuge at my friend’s place, a sanctuary where I could escape the stifling atmosphere of my home. It was a time of reflection and, surprisingly, of understanding. I realized that my parents’ intentions, albeit misguided, came from a place of love. They wanted me close, and safe in a career they deemed secure.

A sad daughter | Source: Getty Images
But a fire still burned within me, a desire to follow my dreams. I started working on a presentation, pouring my heart into every slide. I gathered testimonials from successful artists, statistics on the demand for creative professionals, and a detailed budget plan to manage my expenses beyond the $10,000 gift. My aim was to show not just the viability of an art degree but the depth of my commitment to my passion.

A daughter thinking about her future | Source: Getty Images
With the presentation ready, I reached out to my parents, asking for a chance to discuss my future. They agreed, and on the day of the meeting, a mix of nerves and determination filled me. As I walked into the hotel lobby to meet my parents, a knot tightened in my stomach, and my palms grew clammy with nerves.

Nervous woman walking | Source: Getty Images
Despite my determination, fear gnawed at me, whispering doubts and uncertainties. The weight of the impending conversation pressed heavily upon me, each step forward feeling like a leap into the unknown. Yet, amidst the fear, a flicker of hope persisted, driving me forward with the belief that this meeting could change everything.

Nervous daughter presenting to parents | Source: Getty Images
“Mom, Dad, I understand your concerns, but I need you to see things from my perspective,” I began, as soon as we were done with the pleasantries. Clicking through slides that represented my dreams and plans. I spoke of compromise, of understanding, of a future where passion and pragmatism could coexist.

A woman presenting | Source: Getty Images
“Pursuing art is not just an urge; it’s my passion, my calling. I need the freedom to explore this path fully,” I said meeting my parents’ gaze with determination.
Acknowledging their worries, I continued, “I know you want what’s best for me, and I appreciate that. So, here’s what I’m proposing, regular check-ins and updates on my progress. You’ll see firsthand how committed I am to making this work. Please, trust me to follow my dreams.”

Parents listening to their daughter | Source: Getty Images
As I talked, I saw the change in their expressions, from skepticism to contemplation, and finally, to understanding. “We never realized how much this meant to you,” my dad admitted, his voice softer than I’d heard in weeks. “Your presentation… it’s clear you’ve thought this through.”

Happy parents with daughter | Source: Getty Images
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