Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Three Baby Thieves The Chilling Confessions That Still Haunt Me After All These Years #66

Episode Date: July 28, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales  #truecrime #darkconfessions #hauntingmemories #babytheft #unsettlingtruths  “Three Baby Thieves: The Chilling Confessions That Still Haunt Me After All These Years”A haunting recount of dark secrets and disturbing confessions surrounding the theft of innocent lives. Years later, the weight of these truths lingers, casting long shadows over the narrator’s mind. This gripping tale exposes a twisted crime that continues to torment and haunt, blending elements of horror, guilt, and unresolved trauma.A chilling story about the past that refuses to let go. horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales,  truecrimehorror, darkconfessions, hauntingstory, babytheft, unresolvedtrauma,  guiltandfear, darksecrets, chillingmemories, psychologicalhorror, pasthaunts,  nightmaretruths, twistedcrime, emotionalhorror, hauntingconfession, terrifyingtruth

Back when I was in school, I worked as a research assistant. You'd think it was all textbooks and boring data entry, but my job was way more intense than I ever expected. My main task was combing through police interrogation transcripts, tagging parts that were relevant to our research. Sounds dry, right? But let me tell you, some of those transcripts still stick with me to this day, and not in a good way. I remember three of them in particular. Three different women. Three totally separate cases. All of them tried to abduct newborn babies. I've read hundreds of these things, but those three still pop into my mind out of nowhere sometimes,

like a creepy song stuck in your head that you didn't ask for. Let's start with the first woman. She was young, maybe 22 or 23. Her whole life was in disarray. She didn't have a stable place to live and mostly got by through welfare, panhandling, and picking up the occasional odd job. She seemed very clearly mentally unwell. Her interrogation was hard to read. Not because it was graphic or violent, but because it was so sad and delusional. She kept insisting the baby she tried to take was hers. She believed with every fiber of her being that the hospital or the government or someone

had taken her child from her right after birth and now she had finally found him again. She said she was rescuing her son. The police and doctors found no records of her ever being pregnant. No stretch marks, no medical visits, no birth records, nothing. Her friends and people who knew her didn't remember her ever being pregnant either. And the parents of the baby she snatched. They had everything documented, birth certificate, photos from the hospital, the whole nine yards. But none of that mattered to her.

She genuinely believed the baby was hers. There was something hollow about her responses, like she was in her own world where she couldn't hear anything else. She didn't fight the cops. She didn't even seem to understand why she was being questioned. She was calm, weirdly peaceful, like she thought she had just completed some great mission. It was heartbreaking in a way that didn't let me sleep that night. Now, the second woman, she was a whole different story. On the surface, she looked totally normal.

Middle-aged, held down a part-time job at a clothing store, lived with a couple of roommates. Nothing unusual or sketchy about her at all. She didn't have any major criminal background, just a few minor traffic violations and some decades-old incident involving alcohol and a teenager in her family. Nothing that screamed, baby kidnapper. When the cops asked her why she took the baby, her answer was painfully honest. She said she couldn't have kids. She'd always wanted one, but never found the right person to settle down with.

IVF was too expensive. Sperm donation. Same story. She said she tried hooking up with guys in one-night stands, hoping to get pregnant that way, but never found anyone she thought would make a good dad and who also was willing to go without protection. So she decided to just, take one. like picking up something at the store you forgot to pay for. She said she specifically picked a family with several kids because she thought losing one

wouldn't wreck them too badly. Said she actually preferred older kids because they were easier, more independent. But she grabbed the youngest on purpose. Her logic. The baby wouldn't be as bonded to the parents, and the parents wouldn't be as attached either. Easier all around. She said these things so matter. of factly, like she was explaining why she picked a particular brand of cereal. It was chilling.

She even said people hoard babies the way they hoard land. That the law was stupid. Compared baby abduction to smoking bans, yeah, you heard that right. She thought laws telling people not to steal other people's kids were just as dumb as laws telling people where they can or can't smoke. And then there was the third one. This one was grimy from the start. She was part of a very different kind of situation. She and her boyfriend were both deep into drugs. They hopped from one crappy job to another, living in motels with other addicts. The boyfriend came up with this brain-dead plan, steal a baby, adopted out, and used the cash to score more drugs.

She agreed. Just like that. She said the plan was to find a baby, take it, and sell it to someone who really wanted a kid. She kept saying they would have made sure the baby went to a good home. Like that made it all okay. When they asked her why she thought she had any right to do this, she snapped back that the real parents must not care much if their baby wasn't being watched closely enough to stop her. The most haunting part.

When she was asked how she would have felt if the baby got hurt, or worse, because of what she did. Her answer. That it would have been the parents' fault. Not hers. Because, according to her logic, it's on them to protect their child from people like her. Unbelievable. These weren't even the most violent or dramatic transcripts I read. There were cases involving murder, torture, gang violence, you name it.

But those three, they're the ones that haunt me. I think about them more often than I'd like to admit. It's not just the crimes themselves. It's the bizarre logic behind them. The fractured worldviews. The justifications that sound like something out of a surrealist play. It's like watching three separate glitches in the human operating system. The first woman, I pity her.

She was clearly sick, and it's terrifying how someone can live like that without ever getting help. No one believed her story, but she believed it with everything she had. That scares me. The second one. She makes my blood run cold. It's one thing to act out of desperation or mental illness, but she seemed so, rational about it. Calculated. Like she'd thought it all through and just decided that her need trumped everything else.

Her interview was a slow descent into some kind of entitled madness. And the third one? That was just dirt and chaos. The bottom of the barrel. She didn't even pretend there was a good reason. It was about drugs and money and not giving a damn. I wonder what happened to them. The transcripts never include the full aftermath.

Once the cops get their confession, the documents stop. I don't know if they went to prison, if they got help, if they vanished into the system. I don't know if the babies they tried to take are okay now. I hope they are. Sometimes I think about how fragile life is. How one random moment, one twist of fate, one stranger's bad decision could change. everything. A baby in a shopping cart. A stroller parked too far from the table. A mom glancing at her phone for two seconds. That's all it would have taken. Reading those transcripts made me realize

how thin the line is between normal life and total chaos. It made me think about all the people walking around with broken wiring and no signs on the outside. You pass them in the grocery store, sit next to them on the bus, maybe even work with them. And you never know. I don't really talk about those cases much. Most people don't want to hear this kind of thing. It messes with your peace of mind. But I needed to let it out somehow.

Maybe writing this will keep the memories from clawing at me tonight. Because those three stories, they're like shadows in my brain. They hide in the corners and come out when the room gets quiet. and no matter how many other things i read or how many years go by they're still right there still watching still whispering still waiting to be remembered the end