Help!

Ava refused to acknowledge me as her mom, rejecting my attempts at affection with a scowl or a harsh word. It tore at my heart, knowing that the child I loved from the moment I laid eyes on her was now a stranger in my own home.

I sat down with my parents seeking guidance in their comforting presence. They understood the pain I was going through, having witnessed Ava's rejection firsthand. Her grandparents, my sister, Olivia and her husband, Pete, were the only family Ava had known for most of her life. Olivia was a warm and nurturing presence, while Pete was always busy with work, unable to devote as much time to Ava as he would have liked. Olivia was a housewife, she gave up her job over seven years ago, so that they could start their own family. The disappointment meant that it

"Emma," Mom said gently, "we know this is difficult for you. But Ava has been through a lot. She's been with us for a while, and it's going to take time for her to adjust."

I nodded, wiping away a stray tear. "I just want her to see me as her mom, to feel the love I have for her."

Pete sighed, leaning forward in his chair. "Emma, it's not that Ava doesn't love you. It's just that she's been used to a different routine, a different set of people taking care of her. I work long hours, and Olivia has been there for Ava every step of the way. It's hard for her to let go of that."

"But she's my daughter," I said, my voice quivering. "I want to be there for her, to take care of her."

Mom reached out and placed a comforting hand on mine. "We know, Emma. And we're here to support yo. But Ava needs time to adjust. She's been through a lot of changes already."

Pete nodded, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination. "And we need time too, Emma. Olivia and I have been trying to have a child of our own for years now. We were finally blessed with the news that Olivia is pregnant, and now she’s gone…”

I felt a lump forming in my throat as the weight of their words settled in. They had longed for a child, and it finally happened and a drunk driver took away the joy they’d  longed for in so many years. The universe had played a cruel game on them. One that they didn’t deserve, at all.

Days turned into weeks, and the divide between Ava and me only seemed to grow wider. Every attempt I made to reach out to her was met with resistance. The rejection stung, leaving me feeling lost and defeated.

One morning, as I watched Ava play in the backyard, I mustered up the courage to approach her once again. I took a hesitant step forward, my heart pounding in my chest. But before I could utter a word, Pete appeared beside her.

"I can't do this, Ava," he said, his voice filled with regret. "I can't be the father you need right now."

Ava's face crumpled with confusion and hurt. She extended her small hand toward him, but Pete recoiled, stepping back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "But it's for the best."

And with that, Ava turned and ran, tears streaming down her face. It was as if a fragile thread connecting us had snapped, and I was left standing there, feeling the weight of her pain and my own intermingling.

I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces as I watched Ava disappear into the distance. She sank to her knees, the weight of it all becoming too much to bear.

I couldn't do this alone; I needed help. My parents had to assist me. They had refused once before, which is why Olivia stepped in and took over. My parents even saw it as an opportunity for Olivia to practice until she could have the child she desired so desperately. I knew they were in deep debt, as revealed before the funeral, due to Olivia's costly IVF treatments.

Pete couldn't handle raising Ava on his own; he was grieving and had a demanding job. Pete's behavior towards Ava, unlike his usual nature, indicated that he wouldn't have acted that way if she were his biological child. I had to let my parents know that I needed a job and to move back here.

I couldn't handle it alone; I needed their help. It would only be for a short while, then they could go back to their jet-setting lifestyle or spend their days watching TV.

Either way, it didn't matter to me as long as they offered me support for a few weeks.