Last year, my son and daughter-in-law had twins, and from the moment I found out, I was over the moon. It’s every grandparent's dream to be involved in their grandchildren’s lives. When they came to me, asking me to quit my well-paying nanny job to watch the twins, I didn’t hesitate. I was already making a good living, and the thought of spending every day with my new grandchildren seemed like a gift I couldn’t pass up. They told me they didn’t want daycare for the babies; they wanted a family member to take care of them. I could sense their concern over the expense of daycare and the fact that they both had demanding careers.

It didn’t take long for me to make the decision. I loved my job, but I loved my son’s family more. We discussed how much they'd be able to pay me, and while it wasn’t even close to what I was earning as a nanny, I agreed to it. After all, it was family, and I was happy to help. They swore that it would only be until the twins turned three. I thought to myself, "How hard could it be?" I'd already raised my own children, and I had a wealth of experience with kids. Plus, I was already prepared to take on this role wholeheartedly.

For the next 18 months, I was there every single day. I became their primary caregiver—feeding them, changing diapers, teaching them the ABCs, colors, and shapes. I took them to playgroups, helped them with their first steps, and even learned how to soothe them during their crankiest moments. It was exhausting but rewarding. Seeing those little faces light up when they saw me was the most fulfilling thing in my life. I poured my heart and soul into this job, and I loved every minute of it.

But everything changed last week.

I was in the middle of playing with the twins, watching them giggle as they stacked their blocks, when my son and daughter-in-law asked me to sit down. There was something in their eyes that made my heart sink. I knew something wasn’t right.

“Mom, we’ve been talking,” my son started, his voice unusually serious. “And we’ve decided daycare is the better option for the twins. It’s just going to be easier for all of us.”

I was stunned. My mind raced as I tried to make sense of what they were saying. Daycare? After all the time I’d spent with them? The countless hours I’d sacrificed? I felt like my heart had just been ripped out. My son continued, “We’ve looked into it, and it’s just what we think is best. We’re giving you two weeks’ notice.”

Two weeks. Just like that.

I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. How could they do this to me? I had quit my career to help them out, rearranged my entire life, and now they were telling me it was all for nothing. I swallowed hard, trying to hold back tears, but my voice trembled as I said, “This is really going to hurt me financially. I quit my job for you. I gave up my income to help with the twins, and now I have to scramble to find something else.”

My son didn’t even seem to understand the gravity of what I was saying. “We have to think of ourselves now,” he said. “This is what’s best for the twins.”

It was like a slap in the face. I had always put them first. I gave them everything, and now, when I needed understanding, I was being brushed aside.

I reminded him about the student loans I’d been helping him pay off. I’d been paying his loans for years, trying to give him the financial stability to build his future. But when I brought it up, he just shrugged. “You don’t need to remind me about that,” he said, his voice rising. “You always act like you’ve done so much for us. It feels manipulative, Mom.”

Manipulative? How could he say that? The pain of his words hit me harder than anything else. I never expected this. I thought the love I had shown my family would be enough. But now, it seemed like it was just a burden to them.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned, replaying the conversation over and over in my head. It felt like betrayal, pure and simple. I had been there for them when they needed me most, and now, they were tossing me aside like an old coat.

The next day, I went to my bank account and transferred the last bit of money I had allocated for my son’s student loans. I decided that was the last time I would help him. If they couldn’t see what I had sacrificed, then I couldn’t continue to support them. It hurt deeply to make that decision, but I knew it was the right thing to do.

Over the next few days, I tried to process everything. My mind kept coming back to the twins. How could they choose daycare over me? Was I really that replaceable? It felt like a slap in the face, but I also tried to convince myself that it wasn’t about me—it was about them trying to do what was best for their family. Maybe they thought daycare would give them more time together as a couple. But no matter how I tried to rationalize it, it didn’t change the fact that I felt hurt.

I started applying for nanny positions again, but nothing seemed to compare to the bond I had built with my grandkids. I didn’t know where I was going to go from here, but I couldn’t stay in the same place, emotionally stuck. I had to find a way to move on.

As the days passed, I noticed a shift. My son wasn’t reaching out as much anymore. He didn’t call to check in like he used to, and when I did speak with him, he was distant. My daughter-in-law had been quiet, too. She hadn’t responded to my texts or calls. It felt like the family I had once known was slipping away.

Finally, after a week of silence, my son called. “Mom, I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “I know I hurt you. I didn’t realize the full extent of it at the time, and I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to feel like you didn’t matter. We’re just trying to balance everything, and I made a mistake in how I handled it.”

I was quiet for a long time, letting his words sink in. He sounded genuine, but part of me wasn’t sure if I could forgive him just yet. I’d given up so much, and the pain was still fresh.

“I know,” I finally said. “But it’s going to take time for me to trust that things are going to be different. I need to think about myself for a while, too.”

I hung up the phone feeling a bit lighter but also conflicted. I knew that this wasn’t the end of our relationship, but it was a wake-up call. I had to stop sacrificing my own happiness for others, even if they were family. This was the start of me putting myself first—something I hadn’t done in years.

Days turned into weeks, and I began to rebuild. I found a new job, one that gave me more flexibility. I started seeing friends I hadn’t spoken to in ages. And though I missed the twins deeply, I knew that I had to move forward. Sometimes, you have to let go of the people who take you for granted to find your own peace.

And as for my son and daughter-in-law, I hoped they would one day understand what it meant to be selfless, and that love isn’t always about giving everything until there’s nothing left. I had given them everything, but now it was time to give something back to myself.