New Nanny Loves My Kid

Once my postpartum recovery period ended, my mother-in-law announced that she was feeling unwell and needed to return home to recuperate.

I realized she was planning to go back on her word. I felt a pang of disappointment.

Before I got pregnant, she had been urging me to have a child, promising that she would take care of me and the child. Yet, after just a month, she wanted to back out?

1

If I hadn't had the baby, perhaps I wouldn't have seen through my mother-in-law's true colors.

If I hadn't raised a child, maybe I wouldn't have discovered my husband's true nature.

I was born in a small town. Though not outstanding, I had always been well-behaved and sensible. My grades weren't top-notch, but they were decent.

My life had been uncomplicated and predictable, studying, graduating, working, and getting married.

I had a stable job, though it was not high-paying. So, I settled down in this small town. Little did I know this was the beginning of my hardships.

I had imagined that after getting married, I could spend a few blissful years with my husband. But my mother-in-law frequently urged us to have a child, convincingly assuring us that she would help take care of the baby. I just needed to give birth, and she would handle the rest.

Being young, I felt pressured by her constant urging.

My husband, who initially wasn't keen on having a child, gradually changed his attitude. He often suggested that we should listen to his mother while she was still young and had the energy to help take care of the baby. In a few years, she might not be able to.

After much deliberation, I decided that since we would eventually have a child, there was no point in opposing them. I didn't want to end up being blamed for everything later. So, I got pregnant.

When they heard the news, they were delighted. My mother-in-law frequently visited me, brought me treats, and cooked her specialty dishes.

My husband was attentive to me, taking me to prenatal check-ups and running errands without complaints.

Knowing some of my friends' miserable experiences, I was quite satisfied with my husband's and his mother's support during my pregnancy.

The only downside was that my parents hadn't retired yet and couldn't come to care for me. They called often to remind me of various precautions.

Since my mother-in-law and husband were reliable, I didn't mind that my parents couldn't come to care for me. Instead, I felt proud of my decision to defy my parents' wishes and stay in this city to marry my husband.

It proved that my judgment was sound and my choice wise.

During phone calls with my mom, I often proudly shared my husband's thoughtfulness and care. Sometimes she was happy, but other times she sighed, saying, "Marriage is a long journey. You're just at the beginning."

I didn't take her concerns to heart, as I had faith in my husband.

After months of pregnancy, I endured the excruciating pain of childbirth and gave birth to a little girl with rosy skin.

I had heard that newborns were usually not very attractive, but when the nurse placed her beside me, I was filled with joy, feeling she was the most beautiful child I had ever seen.

When my husband and mother-in-law came in, I beamed through tears, saying, "We have a daughter!"

My husband nodded with a smile, and my mother-in-law held my daughter, smiling slightly. I didn't notice anything unusual.

During the postpartum recovery period, my mother-in-law would occasionally tease the baby, saying, "Sweetheart, in a couple of years, when your mom gives birth to a boy, you'll become an older sister!"

I frowned at her words, and my husband couldn't help but say, "She's just born. Why talk about such a thing?"

I knew she wanted a grandson, but I was still in my postpartum recovery period. Why hint at it like that? It made me uncomfortable.

My mother-in-law didn't do much during my postpartum recovery period. She just cooked meals. Fortunately, my husband was attentive and genuinely loved our girl, which made me more at ease.

However, it was unexpected that as soon as my postpartum recovery period ended, my mother-in-law didn't want to take care of the baby anymore. I confronted my husband, "Your mom promised to help us with the baby. It's been only a month, and now she's going to break her promise. Can you accept that?"

My husband avoided my gaze, but men would always take their mothers' side. "My mom isn't feeling well. Let her rest for a while. Maybe she'll come back to help us in a few days when she feels better. You still have maternity leave, don't you?"

2

After the postpartum recovery period, my husband's paternity leave ended, leaving just me and the baby at home. I was busy every day, running on a tight schedule.

Feeding her, changing diapers for her, taking her for walks, soothing her to sleep, and cooking. Each task seemed simple, but doing them day after day was exhausting, especially with exclusive breastfeeding. I had to feed her every two hours. The speed she drank was slow, and each feeding took a long time. It was manageable during the day, but at night, how could I get a good night's sleep?

Moreover, my husband moved to the guest room because the baby's cries disturbed his sleep, affecting his work the next day. I thought it was fine since he couldn't help much at night anyway.

But when the baby cried in the dead of night, and I was the only one soothing her, I felt a profound sense of isolation and heartache.

The baby wasn't just mine, yet I bore most of the responsibility just because I was the mother.

I could endure the hardships and exhaustion, but with my return to work approaching, I urged my husband to ask his mom if she could come and help with the baby.

He agreed readily but never followed up on my request, often brushing it off, "I promise."

As my return-to-work date loomed, I grew anxious and lashed out at my husband.

Seeing the usually gentle me lose my temper, he was taken aback and angrily retorted, "It was you who gave birth to the baby, not my mom. How can you expect her to help you all the time? Don't you have your own mom?"

I was left speechless at his words. Just because I was the child's mother didn't mean I should be burdened with motherhood.

I loudly countered, "But it was your mom who insisted on me having the baby! Now she wants to go back on her words. Since that's the case, how about the baby taking my family's surname? Can you accept that?"

My husband stormed out, leaving behind a crying baby and an angry me.

Even in my anger, I had to clean up the mess and comfort the child.

I finally came to terms with the situation. I couldn't rely on my mother-in-law, and although my husband admitted his mistakes, many things were no longer the same.

I tried to comfort myself with the fact that life after marriage was bound to have its ups and downs.

Next, my husband and mother-in-law suggested I quit my job to become a full-time housewife.

My husband proudly said, "My mom said she's getting too old to have the energy to care for a child, but she'll give us some money every month. You should quit your job since your salary isn't that high anyway. I'll support you and the child."

"You support me?" I let out a cold smile inwardly. So, I should be grateful for being at home and getting exhausted from taking care of the child while he supported me?

My salary might not be high, but it increased every year, and my job was relatively easy with harmonious relationships among colleagues.

Working was much more relaxed than staying home with the baby.

But in my husband's eyes, staying at home with the child was a great favor from him and his mother.

In a man's eyes, if his mother cared for the child, it was exhausting. But if his wife did it, she was living off him, enjoying a relaxed life.

It was such a blatant double standard. And it existed in real life.

I made up my mind to hire a nanny. My husband, seeing my determination, let me go ahead.

A few days later, we had a new nanny, a woman in her fifties, who appeared clean and tidy, worked efficiently, and had a bright smile.

I didn't have much experience, but she seemed alright, so I kept her on.

3

When my mother-in-law heard I was hiring a nanny, she grumbled a lot, but I treated it as nonsense, not taking it seriously. After all, she wasn't my biological mother. I couldn't expect her to truly care for me.

In the first few days, I stayed with the nanny, whose name was Sophia Curry, and the child, observing how she interacted with the baby. After some observation, I found her to be exceptionally gentle and fond of my girl.

My worries eased. Moreover, I had installed surveillance cameras when I decided to hire a nanny, just to be safe. The cameras were discreetly placed among the decorative flowers by the door, making it hard for outsiders to notice. The cameras covered the entire living room and the balcony connected to it.

Sophia was diligent, not only helping with the child but also doing housework whenever she had time.

I told her several times that she didn't need to do the chores, just focus on the child, as my husband and I would handle them when we were home.

She smiled warmly and said it was no big deal. She did the chores in passing.

After a few days, I felt much more relaxed.

Chatting with Sophia, I learned that she was from a village on the outskirts of the city. Her husband had passed away due to illness, and she had a daughter about my age, who stayed at home and didn't work, which worried her.

I lamented that many young adults today were pampered from a young age and didn't want to work when they grew up, living off their parents, which shouldn't go on for long.

I advised Sophia to find a way to persuade her daughter to work, as staying home too long could lead to a decline in motivation.

Sophia's eyes showed a hint of discomfort, and after hesitating for a while, she sighed, "Alas! Let her be. I've done all I can."

Since Sophia said so, I could only sigh inwardly, thinking she was too soft-hearted and indulgent with her daughter.

Overindulgence often led to spoiled children, but ultimately, it was her family matter. And nothing I said would help.

When the topic of my mother-in-law's desire for a grandson was broached, Sophia expressed her disagreement, saying, "She's a woman herself, yet she looks down on women. That's unreasonable. What's wrong with girls? They're more caring and family-oriented than boys."

It was clear Sophia genuinely liked girls, which reassured me.

A few days later, I returned to work. When I had time, I would check the situation at home through my phone, seeing Sophia happily entertaining my girl, diligently changing diapers for her, and cleaning her body.

After observing her working for a while, I gradually felt at ease.

However, I often noticed that when I took care of my girl at noon or in the evening, she would often cry. Yet, when Sophia was with her, she seemed quite well-behaved.

I often marveled at how amazing Sophia's knack for soothing children, while we, with our limited time at home, were often flustered when dealing with the baby.

This made Sophia start to share her parenting tips, suggesting that taking the child out more often would expend their energy, making them naturally more obedient.

I nodded in agreement, thinking it made sense. But then I remembered my girl was only four months old, still being carried around, unlike a toddler who could walk and truly expend energy. At this age, she couldn't spend much energy when going out.

This thought flickered through my mind.

On weekends, when my husband and I were home, my girl was particularly noisy, sometimes making us feel grateful for having a nanny. Otherwise, our days would be a whirlwind of chaos, making us feel more strained.

After half a month, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. After thinking it over, I realized that when in the living room, although Sophia was happily entertaining my girl, she rarely made a sound as if asleep.

But if my girl was asleep, why would Sophia be talking to her?

And if she was not asleep, why was there so little sound?

Once suspicion crept in, everything seemed more suspicious and frightening.

Even at work, I felt uneasy and restless.

After asking a favor from my colleagues, I left early and headed home. Knowing Sophia wasn't in the living room at that moment but in her bedroom, I quietly opened the door and went straight to the nanny's room window. The curtains blocked most of the sight inside, but I could still see the room's interior through the uncovered part.

At that moment, Sophia and my girl were lying on the bed, with Sophia's arm protectively around my girl's back.

Seeing this scene, I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking perhaps I was just being paranoid.

As I was about to leave, my girl woke up and started crying loudly.