After Aria recovered from childbirth, I thought it was finally time to return to my own life.
But she clung to my hand, eyes wide and pleading.
"Mom, please, just a little longer. Jonathan is under so much pressure supporting us alone. I want to go back to work to help."
She sighed, putting on a pitiful expression. "Mrs. James isn't in good health, so I can't ask her. You're all we have, Mom. Please, just for a while."
Looking into my daughter's desperate eyes, my resolve crumbled. My heart softened, just as it always did.
That "little while" turned into three agonizing years.
I went from a retiree enjoying her golden years to this household's live-in servant. Grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, childcare—my days began before dawn and ended long after dark. I didn't have a moment to breathe.
My entire pension vanished into this household's expenses. My health deteriorated along with my bank account.
Lately, the toll had become undeniable. Migraines plagued me daily, and my lower back throbbed so violently I couldn't sleep. Every time I turned over or took a step, it felt like needles driving into my nerves.