Two weeks after I gave birth by myself, my mother sent me a message: “I need $2,600 to buy new iPhones for your sister’s kids. Christmas is important for them.”
I stared at the screen, reading the text over and over again.
My newborn daughter was asleep in my arms.
$2,600. For iPhones.
From the same mother who hadn’t called me once during my entire pregnancy. The same woman who ignored my calls when I went into labor at 3 a.m. and had to take an Uber to the hospital because I had no one else.
And now she wanted money.
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