Carrie and Craig Kosinski responded positively when a long-lost family friend requested them to watch her infant twins.
Carrie and Craig offered to temporarily assume custody of the adorable girls.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and eventually the girls were a permanent part of the family.
For Carrie and Craig, having children had always been a dream, but they had no idea how their journey would turn out.
The births of Adalynn and Kenna occurred on February 28, 2014. The twins were born via emergency C-section, and at the age of three months, the Kosinkis were granted legal custody of the infant girls.
After a few years of parenting their adoptive twins, Carrie and Craig got a call from their original mother, who revealed that she was dealing with yet another tragic circumstance.
She was battling to make everything work while dealing with serious challenges in her life. She asked the couple if they would be open to adopting her two younger kids, Cece and J.J., twins who are two years old.
The younger twins were biologically related to Kenna and Adalynn.
From Union Grove, Wisconsin, Carrie and Craig had to consider their options carefully.
The couple had made numerous unsuccessful attempts to become pregnant before beginning the adoption process with Kenna and Adalynn.
They sought medical attention because they had no idea what was wrong for a while, and the doctor broke some devastating news.
The medical professional informed Carrie that due to her severe endometriosis, she was unable to conceive naturally. Therefore, having biological children was essentially out of the question; this is why they initially turned to adoption.
“It was a difficult decision. We were trying to get pregnant ourselves. But they were siblings so that was definitely was part of our consideration — we wanted to keep the siblings together,” Carrie told The Journal Times.
Carrie and Craig, however, put aside their private worries and informed the mother that they would be delighted to adopt the younger twins.
But not long after welcome Cece and J.J. into the family, Carrie started to feel off and knew she needed to see a doctor.
An ultrasound in September 2015 confirmed Carrie’s own pregnancy. Actually, there were two fetuses visible on the screen! In the past five years, she and Craig have welcomed three sets of twins.
”We were in shock, but super happy,” Carrie Kosinski explained.
Craig and Carrie understood their pregnancy was a gift from a higher power, despite their first overwhelm. All six of the children would be raised in a secure, loving home, the parents resolved.
But destiny would soon bring the family back, and their medical professionals could hardly believe what had transpired.
Unbelievably, the other two sets of twins’ birth dates, February 28 and March 1, were shared by biological twins Karraline and Clarissa.
”We were very shocked. We were like ‘oh my God we are going to have three sets of twins. What are we going to do with ourselves?’”, Carrie recalled.
The fact that all of Carrie and Craig’s kids have the same birthday is proof positive that this was meant to be, according to the delighted parents.
The Journal Times quotes Carrie as saying, “God certainly has a sense of humor.”
In week 25 of her pregnancy, Carrie used in vitro fertilization to give birth to Karraline and Clarissa. Sadly, their biological twins had to stay in neonatal intensive care for several months. Karraline and Clarissa, however, were in good health and shape when they were finally permitted to return home.
Three pairs of twins living under one roof is obviously expensive, but several members of the neighborhood have offered financial assistance.
Kind strangers from across the nation provided the family with financial assistance to cover their rising bills and expensive charges through fundraising websites like GoFundMe and AdoptTogether.
”I have to be very organized and keep to a schedule, or things get out of hand,” Carrie says.
Craig and Carrie believe that someone from above had a particular plan for their family because all six of their children were born on the same day: Cece and J.J. on February 28, 2013, Adalynn and Kenna on February 28, 2014, and Karraline and Clarissa on February 28, 2016.
”We believe that because God adopted us into His family that we were meant to adopt these children into our family,” Carrie said. ”It’s such a huge blessing to us. We love all our children the same. We wouldn’t want our lives to be any different.”
Today, this family is enjoying life, and to see all these beautiful kids grow up must be such a blessing for Carrie and Craig.
My parents forced me to pay for my own dinner while they covered the bill for everyone else – Their justification was absurd
Jennifer’s parents caught her off guard during a family dinner by unexpectedly asking her to cover the cost of her meal, while they paid for everyone else. Jennifer’s resentment brews as the sting of unfairness deepens, setting the stage for a confrontation the family won’t forget.
The night I got the text from Mom about a “special family dinner,” I nearly choked on my microwaved ramen. It had been ages since we’d all gotten together, and even longer since it felt like my parents actually wanted me there.
love my family, but being the middle child is like being the bologna in a sandwich where everyone’s fighting over the bread.
I stared at my phone, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Part of me wanted to make up some lame excuse, but then I thought about Tina and Cameron, my perfect older sister and my can-do-no-wrong little brother.
They’d be there, basking in Mom and Dad’s approval, like always. And I’d remain the perpetual afterthought if I didn’t show up.
“Count me in,” I typed, hitting send before I could change my mind.
Mom replied instantly. “Great! Le Petit Château, 7 p.m. next Friday. Don’t be late!”
Le Petit Château. Fancy. I whistled low, already mentally tallying up my savings. This wasn’t going to be cheap, but hey, maybe it was a sign things were changing. Maybe they actually wanted to spend time with me, Jennifer the Forgettable.
That Friday, I arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early, feeling nervous. Just as I was about to go in, Mom and Dad showed up. Mom was all smiles, while Dad wore his usual concerned expression.
Inside, we found a cozy table, and soon after, Tina and Robert joined us. Tina looked stunning, as always, making me feel like a potato by comparison. Finally, Cameron arrived, late as usual, and complaining about traffic.
Now we were all settled, Mom wasted no time in making me feel insignificant.
“So, Jennifer,” Mom said, peering at me over her menu, “how’s work going? Still at that little marketing firm?”
I nodded, trying not to bristle at the ‘little’ part. “Yeah, it’s good. We just landed a pretty big client, actually. I’m heading up the campaign.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Mom said, her attention already drifting back to Tina, who was regaling Dad with tales of her son’s latest soccer game.
That stung, but the atmosphere improved while we ate. The food was great, and soon we were talking and laughing like we used to when I was a kid.
I was enjoying the meal and the rare feeling of being part of the family, but then the check came.
Dad reached for it and started going over the bill, like he always did. But then he frowned, looking directly at me.
“Jennifer,” he said, his voice oddly formal, “you’ll be covering your portion tonight.”
I blinked, sure I’d heard him wrong. “What?”
“You’re an adult now,” he continued, as if explaining something to a child. “It’s time you start paying your own way.”
“But…” I started, my voice small, “I thought this was a family dinner. You’re paying for everyone else.”
Dad’s frown deepened. “Your sister and brother have families to support. You’re single, so it’s only fair.”
Fair. The word echoed in my head, mocking me. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. Without a word, I pulled out my credit card and handed it to the waiter, praying it wouldn’t get declined.
The rest of the night was a blur. As I drove home, the hurt began to curdle into something else. Something harder, angrier.
The next morning, I woke up with a headache and a heart full of resentment. I spent the day alternating between moping on the couch and pacing my apartment like a caged animal. By evening, something inside me had shifted.
I wasn’t just going to let this go. Not this time.
An idea started to form. Crazy at first, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I was going to give them a taste of their own medicine.
I invited Mom and Dad over for dinner and then spent days perfecting the menu. I cleaned my apartment until it sparkled, bought fancy candles, and even splurged on a tablecloth that didn’t come from the dollar store.
The night of the dinner arrived, and I was eerily calm. I had a plan, and I was sticking to it.
The doorbell rang at 7 p.m. sharp. I took a deep breath and opened the door with a smile plastered on my face.
“Mom, Dad! Come in!”
Dad handed me a bottle of wine. “Place looks nice, Jennifer.”
“Thanks,” I said, ushering them to the living room. “Dinner’s almost ready. Can I get you something to drink?”
As I poured their wine, Mom settled onto the couch, her eyes roaming over my bookshelf. “So, how have you been, dear? We haven’t heard much from you since… well, since our last dinner.”
I forced a light laugh. “Oh, you know how it is. Work’s been crazy busy.”
We made small talk for a while, the conversation stilted and full of long pauses. Finally, the oven timer beeped, saving us all.
“Dinner’s ready!” I announced, perhaps a bit too cheerfully.
I’d outdone myself with the meal: herb-crusted salmon, roasted vegetables, and a quinoa salad that had taken forever to get right. Mom and Dad made appropriate noises of appreciation as they ate.
“This is delicious, Jennifer,” Mom said, sounding genuinely impressed. “I didn’t know you could cook like this.”
I shrugged, tamping down the flare of resentment at her surprise. “I’ve picked up a few things over the years.”
The dinner progressed smoothly, almost pleasantly. I almost forgot why I’d invited them over in the first place. Then Dad started with one of his lectures about financial responsibility, and I knew it was time.
As I cleared the plates and brought out a fancy tiramisu for dessert, I steeled myself. This was it.
“So,” I said casually, setting down the dessert plates, “I hope you enjoyed the meal.”
They both nodded, smiling. “It was wonderful, dear,” Mom said.
I smiled back, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Great. That’ll be $47.50 each, please.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Mom’s fork clattered against her plate, and Dad’s face went through a rapid series of emotions – confusion, disbelief, and then anger.
“I’m sorry, what?” he sputtered.
I kept my voice calm, channeling Dad’s tone from that night at the restaurant. “Well, you’re both adults. It’s time you started paying your own way.”
Mom’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “But… but this is your home. You invited us.”
“Yes,” I said, my voice hardening slightly. “Just like you invited me to Le Petit Château. And then made me pay for my meal while covering everyone else’s.”
Understanding dawned on their faces, quickly followed by shame.
“Jennifer,” Dad started, his voice gruff. “That’s not… we didn’t mean…”
“Didn’t mean what?” I interrupted, years of pent-up frustration finally boiling over.
“Didn’t mean to make me feel like I’m worth less than Tina or Cameron? Didn’t mean to constantly overlook me? Or did you just not mean to get called out on it?”
Mom reached out, trying to take my hand, but I pulled away. “Sweetie, we had no idea you felt this way.”
I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Of course you didn’t. Do you have any idea what it’s like to always be the afterthought in your own family?”
Dad shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“We love you just as much as your siblings, Jennifer.”
“Do you?” I challenged. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. I’m just as successful as Tina, just as hardworking as Cameron. But somehow, I’m always the one who’s expected to ‘act like an adult’ while they get a free pass.”
The room fell silent again, but this time it was heavy with unspoken words and long-ignored feelings.
Finally, Dad cleared his throat. “We… we owe you an apology, Jennifer. A big one.”
Mom nodded, tears in her eyes. “We never meant to make you feel less valued. You’re our daughter, and we love you so much. We’ve just… we’ve done a terrible job of showing it.”
I felt my own eyes welling up, but I blinked back the tears. “I don’t want your apologies. I want you to do better. To be better. To see me.”
Dad stood up, his movements stiff. For a moment, I thought he was going to leave.
Instead, he walked around the table and hugged me. It was awkward and a little too tight, but it was more genuine than any interaction we’d had in years.
“We see you, Jennifer,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “And we’re so, so proud of you. We’ve been blind and stupid, and we’ve taken you for granted. But that ends now.”
Mom joined the hug, and for a minute, we just stood there, a tangle of arms and unshed tears and long-overdue honesty.
When we finally broke apart, Mom wiped her eyes and gave a watery chuckle. “So, about that bill…”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell you what. This one’s on the house. But next time we go out? We’re splitting the check evenly. All of us.”
Dad nodded solemnly. “Deal.”
As they left that night, things weren’t magically fixed. Years of feeling overlooked and undervalued don’t disappear in one conversation. But it was a start. A crack in the wall I’d built around myself, letting in a glimmer of hope.
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