Mom straps baby in carseat and tosses her out second-story window just seconds before taking her final breaths. Full story in the comments 

Nothing really beats mother’s love, don’t you think so? When a woman gives birth, her whole life changes and all that matters is the well-being of her bundle of joy. There is literally nothing a mom wouldn’t do for her child, and this sad and heartwarming story is just another proof of that.

Shelby Ann Carter, a 21-year-old woman from Wyoming, Ill, gave birth to a beautiful baby girl in January 2017. She and her boyfriend couldn’t be happier with the new addition to their family. Things just felt perfect for these new parents.

But you know what they say. Things don’t always turn out the way we want and expect. Sadly, the life of this loving family turned upside down as a result of a devastating tragedy.

On January 30, the mom and her baby were staying at Shelby’s mother’s house where they lived when suddenly the place caught fire.

The flames were spreading so quickly that the whole house got filled with heavy smoke and there was no way out.

Firefighters came at the scene as quickly as they could and did all in their power to put the flames under control, but unfortunately, it was already way too late for Shelby to be saved. She died due to carbon monoxide poisoning.

In the midst of the panic, Shelby tried to save her baby girl and everyone was left stunned when they realized what this mother did before she lost her life.

Firefighters came at the scene as quickly as they could and did all in their power to put the flames under control, but unfortunately, it was already way too late for Shelby to be saved. She died due to carbon monoxide poisoning.

In the midst of the panic, Shelby tried to save her baby girl and everyone was left stunned when they realized what this mother did before she lost her life.

Once she realized it was impossible for them to get out of the house, Shelby put the baby into the carseat, made sure she was secured with the belts, and then dropped her from the second-floor window. This woman didn’t care for her own life as long as her daughter would survive. This is sort of sacrifice only a mother can make.

The moment the firefighters spotted the little soul, they rushed her to the hospital, praying she didn’t suffer any serious injuries from the fall. Luckily, baby Keana was completely unscathed thanks to her mommy’s love and quick-thinking.

“It’s just incredible that she was able to pull her thoughts together to save her baby… I’d say it’s nothing short of a miracle the way it ended up”, Chief of the Wyoming-Speer Fire Protection District Ed Foglesonger told The Washington Post.

The loss of the young mother was a real tragedy that left the residents of Wyoming grieving. A baby was left without her mommy, and a family was broken forever.

Members of the community gathered to express their condolences and were willing to help Shelby’s family rebuild their house. After the word about the tragic and heartbreaking event spread, kind-hearted people helped raise almost $40,000 in just a few weeks.

We are deeply sorry for the loss and we feel sad Keana will never get the chance to meet her heroic mother who saved her life.

Once she realized it was impossible for them to get out of the house, Shelby put the baby into the carseat, made sure she was secured with the belts, and then dropped her from the second-floor window. This woman didn’t care for her own life as long as her daughter would survive. This is sort of sacrifice only a mother can make.

The moment the firefighters spotted the little soul, they rushed her to the hospital, praying she didn’t suffer any serious injuries from the fall. Luckily, baby Keana was completely unscathed thanks to her mommy’s love and quick-thinking.

“It’s just incredible that she was able to pull her thoughts together to save her baby… I’d say it’s nothing short of a miracle the way it ended up”, Chief of the Wyoming-Speer Fire Protection District Ed Foglesonger told The Washington Post.

The loss of the young mother was a real tragedy that left the residents of Wyoming grieving. A baby was left without her mommy, and a family was broken forever.

Members of the community gathered to express their condolences and were willing to help Shelby’s family rebuild their house. After the word about the tragic and heartbreaking event spread, kind-hearted people helped raise almost $40,000 in just a few weeks.

We are deeply sorry for the loss and we feel sad Keana will never get the chance to meet her heroic mother who saved her life.

After I restored the motorcycle my father had gifted me, he took it back — so I found a way to get my revenge

I caught them effortlessly, but I was confused.

“What’s this for?” I asked. They didn’t look like car keys, and I already had my mom’s old car anyway.

My dad nodded toward a dusty tarp in the corner of the garage. It had been there for as long as I could remember, covering up something that I was told not to touch.

When I pulled the tarp off, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was my dad’s old Harley, a ’73 Shovelhead. It was the stuff of my childhood dreams, the bike that had always seemed just out of reach.

All I had wanted to do when I was younger was steal my dad’s leather jacket and sit on the motorcycle. But he always shouted at me whenever I tried to touch it.

“If there’s one scratch on it, Seth,” he would say, “I’ll take all your spending money away.”

That was enough to keep me away from the dream bike.

“You’re giving me the Harley?” I asked, my voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.

My father shrugged it off like it was nothing.

“Yeah, why not, son?” he declared. “It hasn’t run in years, to be honest, so good luck with that. Consider it a late birthday gift, Seth.”

I could barely believe it.

I was finally going to ride that bike, and feel the engine roaring beneath me, the wind in my hair. It was going to be everything I had dreamt of and more. I was finally going to be like my dad.

I ran my hand over the cracked leather seat, taking in the gift.

“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

The moment those keys were in my hand, that motorcycle became my new obsession.

“Jeez, son,” the mechanic said when I took the Harley over in a friend’s old pickup truck. “There’s a lot to be done here. But I can do the big things for you, and you’ll be able to sort out the smaller things if you’re confident enough.”

I saved every penny from my barista role at the café. I was extra polite to all my customers, hoping for large tips, ready to go straight into the motorcycle restoration fund.

Soon, my nights, weekends, and any and all free time I had were spent outside with the motorcycle. I tore it down and put it back together, better than ever, restoring old parts. I watched countless YouTube tutorials and read every manual I could find.

“What are you doing now?” my roommate, Brett, asked when I was hunched over my laptop on the couch.

“I’m looking at forums online for tips about the motorcycle,” I said.

“That’s all you do these days, buddy,” he said, chuckling.

Fourteen months later, the day finally came. I polished the last piece of chrome, stood back, and admired my work. The Harley gleamed under the garage lights, looking like it had just rolled off the assembly line.

“Good job, Seth,” I muttered to myself.

I could hardly contain my excitement as I thought about showing it to my parents, especially my dad. I imagined the pride on his face, the way his eyes would light up when he saw what I’d done.

I hoped that he would finally be proud of something I had done. But nothing prepared me for what was to come next.

I rode it over to my parents’ house, the engine purring beneath my legs like a big cat. As I parked in the driveway, I felt a rush of nerves. I hadn’t felt this anxious since I was waiting for my acceptance letter for college.

“Mom? Dad?” I called, walking into the hallway.

“We’re in the kitchen,” my mom called.

I walked into the kitchen, and there they were. My dad was drinking a cup of tea, and Mom was busy putting together a lasagna.

“I’ve got something to show you!” I said. “It’s outside.”

They followed me outside, their eyes going wide when they saw the motorcycle.

“Oh my gosh, Seth,” my dad exclaimed. “Is that the Harley? My old Harley? She looks beautiful!”

“Yes,” I said, grinning. “I’ve spent the last year working on it. What do you think?”

Before they could answer, my dad moved closer to the motorcycle. His eyes narrowed as he took it in. He ran his hands along the chrome as though he couldn’t believe his own eyes.

“You did all this?” he asked, his voice tight.

“I did!” I said, beaming proudly. “Every spare moment and extra cash went into this project. And now she’s perfect.”

For a second, I thought I saw pride flicker in his eyes, but then his expression changed. His face darkened, and I felt something change in me.

“You know, Seth,” he said slowly, “this bike is worth a hell of a lot more now. I think I was too generous when I gave it to you.”

I blinked, not understanding.

“What do you mean, Dad?”

My father cleared his throat, not meeting my eyes.

“I’m going to take it back,” he said, his tone final. “And I’ll give you $1,000 for your trouble.”

“Are you serious?” I asked, barely containing my anger.

He nodded.

“It’s only fair, Seth.”

I wanted to yell, to tell him how unfair he was being, how much time and money I’d poured into that bike. But I knew that arguing wouldn’t get me anywhere. My father was too stubborn.

“Sure,” I said. “Whatever you think is fair.”

He looked surprised that I didn’t fight him on it, but I wasn’t done with my revenge. If he wanted to play dirty, then fine. I could play that game too. I just needed to be smarter about it.

A few days later, I saw my father posting on social media about his “newly restored” motorcycle and that he was taking the Harley to an upcoming bike meet with his old biking buddies.

“Now it’s on,” I said to myself.

When the day of the meet arrived, I watched from a distance as my father rolled up on the Harley, looking every bit the proud owner of a beautiful bike. He revved the engine, drawing the attention of everyone in the parking lot.

But what he didn’t know was that I’d made a little modification of my own.

Under the seat, I’d installed a small switch—it was nothing fancy. But it was a precaution in case the Harley was ever stolen. The switch, when accessed, would cut off the fuel line with a quick flick of the remote, which was firmly planted in my hand.

I waited until he was right in the middle of the crowd, basking in the admiration, and then, from a distance, I pressed the button.

The Harley sputtered, the engine dying with a weak cough. Soon, my father’s smug grin disappeared as he tried to restart it, but the engine wouldn’t give.

The murmurs began, making their way through the crowd, and a few of his buddies laughed under their breath.

“Need a hand, Dad?” I asked when I made my way over to him.

He glared at me, but I could see the desperation in his eyes. He nodded, too embarrassed to say anything. I knelt down, pretending to fiddle with the bike for a moment before “fixing” the problem by turning off the switch.

The engine roared back to life, but by then, the damage was done.

The look of embarrassment on my dad’s face was worth every second of the work I had put into the Harley.

He handed me the keys, his jaw clenched tightly.

“It’s yours,” he said, walking away.

I smiled, knowing the Harley was mine, and so was my father’s respect, even if he couldn’t say it.

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