My sister demanded I give her my baby when he’s born

She grabbed Carly’s arm and tried to pry it off the baby. “Let him go! This is crazy. Just let him go.”

Carly’s head snapped toward Jordan and her face twisted into something ugly. She let go of me with one hand and slapped Jordan across the face hard.

The sound cracked through the air. “You!” Carly hissed.

“This is all your fault. If you had just been what I needed, if you had just been a boy. 14 years of disappointment. 14 years of looking at you and feeling sick. And now you’re trying to take this from me too!”

Jordan didn’t back down. She grabbed Carly’s arm again, harder this time.

“I’m not letting you do this!” “Get off me!”

Carly tried to shake her loose but Jordan held on. And in that moment of distraction, Zach moved.

He wrapped both arms around the baby and pulled. Carly screamed as the baby was ripped from her grip.

Zach stumbled backward, clutching our son against his chest, and then he was handing him to me, pressing him into my arms. I was holding my baby.

I was holding him. He was safe.

He was here. He was mine.

Carly lunged for us but Zach stepped in front blocking her path. She tried to get around him, clawing at the air, screaming things that didn’t even make sense anymore.

“He’s mine! You can’t do this! He’s supposed to fix everything! Give him back!”

Sirens in the distance getting closer. Carly heard them too.

For a second, something like panic flashed across her face. Then it was gone, replaced by that cold certainty I’d seen before.

“This isn’t over,” she said.

“I’ll get him back. I’ll find a way. You can’t watch him forever. You can’t.”

The police cars pulled up, lights flashing red and blue across the front yard. Two officers got out and started toward us.

Carly saw them first. She straightened up, wiped her face, and something shifted in her expression.

The crazy melted away and suddenly she looked like a scared, concerned mother. “Officers, thank God you’re here!”

She pointed at me. “That’s her! She broke into my house and she’s trying to take my baby!”

I was shocked and offended all at once. “What?” “She’s been threatening me for months,” Carly continued, her voice shaking with fake tears.

“She’s obsessed with my son. She thinks he belongs to her. I don’t know what’s wrong with her but please, please help me get my baby back!”

The officers looked at her then at me. I was standing there in my pajamas, hair a mess, still bleeding from giving birth 5 days ago, holding a screaming newborn.

“That’s not true,” I said.

“She’s lying. This is my baby. She broke into my house.” “She’s delusional,” Carly said.

“Ask anyone. She’s been stalking me. She’s been harassing me. My whole family can tell you.”

The worst part about that was that our parents would somehow find a way to prove her right and my life would be ruined forever. One of the officers held up his hand.

“Okay, everyone calm down.” “Ma’am—” he looked at Carly.

“You’re saying this is your child?” “Yes! His name is Michael. He’s 5 days old.”

My blood ran cold. She knew how old he was.

She’d been watching us. “His name is not Michael,” I said.

“His name is Theo. And I gave birth to him. You can check the records.” “She’s lying!” Carly screamed, the mask slipping for just a second.

“Why would I lie about my own baby?” The officer looked between us.

“Do either of you have identification?” “I do.” Zach stepped forward.

“I’m the father. I have my ID and I have pictures from the hospital. My wife gave birth 5 days ago. This woman—” he pointed at Carly.

“—is her sister. She’s been harassing us for months trying to take our baby.” “That’s not true!”

Carly was crying now. Real tears or fake ones, I couldn’t tell anymore.

“He’s not the father! He’s lying! They’re all lying!”

The other officer was looking at Jordan, at the red mark on her face. “What happened to you?”

Jordan’s voice was steady. “She hit me. Just now when I tried to stop her from taking the baby.”

“She’s my daughter,” Carly said quickly.

“She’s troubled. She makes things up. She’s been in therapy for years. You can ask anyone.” “I’m not making anything up,” Jordan’s voice cut through the night.

“She broke into their house with a key she’s had since before they changed the locks. She went into the nursery and took the baby out of his crib. I heard her. I woke them up. And when I tried to stop her she hit me, just like she’s been hitting me my whole life.”

“Jordan, stop it!” Carly hissed.

“Tell them the truth!” “I am telling them the truth. For the first time in 14 years I’m telling the truth.”

The officers exchanged a look. One of them spoke into his radio, confirming our address, asking for backup.

The other one turned to Carly. “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to step away from the baby.”

“No, you don’t understand! He’s mine!” “Ma’am—” “I’ve been waiting my whole life for him!”

The mask was gone now. Completely gone.

“Do you know what it’s like to want something so badly and watch everyone else get it? She doesn’t even want him! She didn’t even cry when she found out she was pregnant! But I would be a good mother! I would be the best mother! He’s supposed to fix everything!”

She lunged toward me and the officers grabbed her. She fought.

She kicked and scratched and screamed, calling me every name she could think of, telling the officers they were making a mistake, that the baby belonged to her, that she’d been waiting her whole life for him, that I stole him, that everyone was lying, that Jordan was a troubled child who made up stories.

They had to force her arms behind her back. Had to put her in handcuffs.

She was still screaming when they put her in the back of the police car. Still screaming as they closed the door.

I watched the car pull away, lights still flashing, my son pressed against my chest and I felt him breathing. It was over.

Carly was charged with breaking and entering, attempted kidnapping, and assault. The prosecutor added child abuse charges after Jordan testified about everything she’d been through.

My parents tried to defend Carly at first, tried to say she was confused, that she needed help, not prison. But when Jordan took the stand and told the court about the head shaving and the yellow dress and the night she spent locked outside in November and every other thing Carly had done to her for 14 years, they went quiet.

They didn’t testify on Carly’s behalf. They didn’t testify at all.

Carly was sentenced to 20.