**A Terrible Mother**
“Youre nothing but a useless cow, thats what you are!” her mother-in-law raged down the phone. “Dumping your daughter and her baby on me like unwanted kittens! And you call yourself a mother…”
Emma clenched her jaw. For the past week, shed barely slept four hours a night, picked up extra shifts, and shouldered the sudden weight of her fractured familynow she had to justify herself too?
“Margaret, my nestling is a grown woman. She flaunted that independence like a trophy. Let her live with the consequences. I gave her adviceif she hasnt the sense to take it, shell have to manage on her own.”
Emma hung up. The conversation was pointless. She knew the family would paint her as a monster now. She couldnt stomach another word.
It hadnt always been this way. Once, Emma had been left alone too. Her mother died when she was eighteen; by nineteen, her husband was gone. Only her little girl remained.
“Hold on. Im here. Call if you need anything,” Margaret had said back then.
But calls were all she ever offered.
“Emma, love, Id help if I could, but Im exhaustedI work too,” Margaret would say whenever Emma begged her to watch the baby, even for an afternoon.
Money? None came. None of the family lifted a finger. Sympathy flowed freely, but only in words.
Emma survived alone. Some nights, shed howl at the moon, teeth gritted against the exhaustion. But she made it. She knew better than anyone what it meant to be a single mother.
So when her daughter Sophie got a boyfriend at sixteen, Emma tensed. Daniel had a reputationtroublemaker, sneering at girls, running with a rough crowd. Whispers said hed already dabbled in things the law frowned upon.
At first, Emma tried to reason with Sophie. “There are better lads out there.”
But Sophie wouldnt hear it.
“You dont understand! I love him!” shed shriek, even when Emma spoke calmly.
Emma couldnt fathom it. Daniels romance amounted to plastic roses on Valentines Day and the occasional reckless motorbike ride through town. One such ride stretched into the night, Sophie ignoring every call. She stumbled in after ten.
Emma, wide awake, erupted.
“Have you lost your mind? I nearly called the police! Next time, Ill have himand youcharged! Hand over your keys. Youre grounded.”
Sophie didnt even flinch.
“Im keeping them! You cant lock me up! Im an adultIll go where I want. Try stopping me, and Ill report you for harassment.”
Emmas eyes flashed at the audacity, but she held steady.
“Youll be an adult at eighteen. Until then, youre my responsibility.”
That night, Emma realised: Sophie knew her rights inside outbut duties? Those were someone elses problem. She craved freedom, but only if someone else paid the price.
“Youre a terrible mother!” Sophie spat during another row.
*Yes. Terrible. A good mother wouldnt have raised a daughter like you.* The thought stung. Emma had failed somewhere. But how could she have done better, working two jobs just to keep a roof over their heads?
When Sophie announced her pregnancy, her mothers hair greyed a shade more. The girl had barely started universitythis was the last thing she needed.
“Mum… Im pregnant.”
Something inside Emma snapped, heavy as a stone dropped down a well. She didnt scream, though she wanted to. Instead, she inhaled, sat, and spoke evenly.
“What are you planning to do?”
“Keep it, obviously. What else?”
“And live on what? Daniels never worked a day in his life. You wont either.”
“Hes got a job nowwarehouse work, two months in. Were serious.”
Emma saw it then: Sophie was lost in a fantasy. Those rose-tinted castles would crumble the moment dirty nappies and sleepless nights hit.
“Sophie… Neither of you has skills, experience, or prospects. Have you even held a newborn? Babies cost moneytime, too. Youve neither.”
Sophie scowled. Emma cut off the coming tirade with a raised hand.
“Im not your enemy. I want to help. But I know what its like, raising a child so young.”
“Yeah, well, you were alone”
*You will be too,* Emma almost said. But she bit it back.
“I was. And why? Because life doesnt care about plans. One day I had a husband; the next, I didnt. At thirty, its easier to cope alone than at twenty.”
Sophie faltered, irritation fading to confusion.
“So what do I do?”
“Ill give you money. See a doctorIll go with you. Then focus on your degree. If you and Daniel last till graduation, build your life then. If not? Therell be others. Well manage.”
Sophie agreed, took the cash. Emma breathed easyher daughter had snapped out of the fairy tale.
But by the fourth month, Sophies belly swelled. Emmas hope curdled to dread.
“What have you done?” she gasped.
“My life, my choice!” Sophie snapped.
“At seventeen, its my responsibility too!”
“By the time its born, Ill be eighteen. So its *not your business.*”
Emma knew then: the burden would fall on her. Arguing was pointlesslike stepping into a bear trap.
Daniel, meanwhile, quit his job.
“Too hard. Not for me,” he said, leaching off his parents instead.
His mothers response was ice.
“Your mess. Sort it yourselves.”
And she wasnt wrong.
The problem grew daily. Sophie had no plan. Daniel made no moves to marry her, and Emma refused to house them. Not that son-in-law seemed eager to move in.
He appeared at the hospital, posed for photos, visited twicethen vanished. Emma warmed bottles, changed nappies, dragged herself to work red-eyed while Sophie whined:
“Youre better at it. He cries when I hold him.”
It was like reliving her past. But this cross? She couldnt bear it twice.
She begged Sophie to file for child support. “No need. Well sort it.”
*Why lift a finger when Mum will fix everything?*
The final straw came when Sophie vanished one dayoff clubbing with friends, leaving the baby with Emma.
“You were home anyway. Whats the harm?” she said when Emma finally reached her.
That was it. When Sophie returned, Emma gave her a week to find a new place.
“Youd throw your own grandchild onto the streets?” Sophie wailed.
“I want peace. You said it wasnt my businessyou were right. I did all I could to steer you clear of this. You ignored me. Now youre on your own.”
Sophie left the next daybut the storm didnt end. She spun tales to Margaret, relatives, friends. None defended Emma. They called her heartless, though few offered Sophie a bed.
Emma swallowed the bitternessuntil a year later, over tea with her friend Sarah.
“Harsh? Maybe. But fair. Youve done your time. If youd caved, shed have dumped a second baby on you. Now? Shell sink or swim. But its *her* lifenot yours.”
*Her life.* The words cut deeper than any accusation. Once, Sophies screams”Its my life, I decide!”had wounded her. Now, they brought relief.
It was bitter, but true. Emma couldnt live it for her. Maybe Sophie would grow up, maybe not. But some burdens werent hers to carry.
