Rejected By My Husband, Desired By My Doctor

Evelyn

I woke up to pain.

Not the dull ache that had become familiar over the past few months. Not the occasional cramp that every doctor had assured me could happen during pregnancy.

This one was different.

A sharp, brutal pain ripped through my lower abdomen, so sudden and intense that it stole the air from my lungs.

I gasped and sat upright in bed.

Another wave followed immediately.

It felt as if invisible claws were digging into my womb and tearing through me from the inside. My stomach tightened painfully before another cramp twisted through my body.

"Ah..."

A whimper escaped my lips.

My hands instinctively moved to my belly.

No.

No, no, no.

Please.

The room was dark except for the faint moonlight slipping through the curtains. Beside me, Adrian slept peacefully, unaware that my world was already beginning to crumble.

Then I felt something warm and wet trickling down my thighs.

My entire body froze.

My heart stopped.

Slowly, almost mechanically, I lowered my gaze.

Blood… so much blood. The white bedsheets beneath me had already been stained red.

My hands began to shake violently.

"No..."

Another cramp tore through me as fresh tears flooded my eyes.

"No! No! No!"

Not this one.

Not another pregnancy.

Not another miscarriage.

A broken, desperate sob broke through my throat.

Why? Why was this happening again?

I had done everything right.

Everything.

Doctor John had given me hope.

After my third IVF treatment had finally worked, he had looked me straight in the eyes and told me that this was the most promising pregnancy I'd had so far. The odds were clearly in my favor, he had said.

Nearly seventy percent.

And I had put in my best.

God knew I honestly had.

I took every single medication exactly on time, attended every appointment, and avoided stress.

I followed every dietary recommendation, spent weeks on bed rest when he suggested it, prayed, hoped, and believed.

I had done everything right.

So why?

A fresh wave of pain twisted through my abdomen. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I couldn't lose this baby.

Not this one.

I couldn't.

My trembling hand reached for Adrian and shook his shoulder desperately.

"Adrian!"

His eyes slowly opened. For a moment he looked confused, then he saw my tear-filled face. Instinctively, he looked down and saw the bloodstained bedsheet.

Everything changed.

The sleep vanished from his expression instantly. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened. And in that single moment, he understood.

Without a word, he climbed out of bed and walked straight to the wardrobe to change, like it had become a routine for him.

My chest tightened. The silence somehow made everything feel more real and terrifying.

I forced myself out of bed. The pain nearly buckled my knees. I grabbed the edge of the nightstand for support. With shaking fingers, I quickly changed into one of my loose gowns.

Every movement hurt.

Every second felt endless.

Please let my baby be okay.

Please.

By the time I stepped out of the bedroom, Adrian already had the car keys in his hand, his grip so tight his knuckles had gone pale. He didn’t look at me—just swallowed hard, like he was forcing something down in his throat.

Adrian didn’t speak the entire drive. His hands stayed locked on the steering wheel, jaw clenched so tightly I thought it might break. At one point, I saw him exhale sharply, like he was trying not to fall apart—but he still didn’t look at me. The city lights blurred beyond the window as tears continuously rolled down my cheeks.

I clasped my hands together tightly.

Praying.

Begging.

Pleading.

God, please save my baby. Please let there be a miracle.

People talk about miracles every day. Maybe this could be mine. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the bleeding would stop.

Maybe my baby was strong enough.

Maybe—

Another cramp stole my breath.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Please. I don't need anything else.

Just let me keep this child.

The hospital finally came into view. Everything after that happened too fast.

Wheelchairs, nurses, questions, examinations, machines, voices, waiting… endless waiting.

The kind that slowly destroys a person from the inside. Then came the moment I had feared from the very beginning.

Dr. John entered the room, and one look at his face told me everything. My heart shattered before he even spoke.

His expression was gentle and sympathetic. The expression of someone who hated what he was about to say.

"I'm sorry, Evelyn. This round of IVF failed… There is no heartbeat."

“No…” I whispered.

He looked at the screen again, then back at me.

“The pregnancy stopped developing around nine to ten weeks.”

For a moment, the room tilted.

My breath broke apart.

“No… no, that’s not possible,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “I saw the heartbeat before. It was fine. You showed me on the screen. You said everything was fine.”

My voice cracked violently.

Tears blurred everything.

“It was fine…”

“It was fine…”

My hands moved instinctively to my stomach, as if I could hold my baby inside me by force.

“Please…” I whispered. “Check again. Please check again.”

No one spoke or moved. My vision blurred completely as reality finally broke through.

Something inside me broke completely.

I covered my mouth as a sob escaped.

No.

Please no.

My child was gone… again.

I stared blankly ahead while tears poured down my face.

What had I done wrong? What exactly had I done to deserve this life?

Six miscarriages.

Three failed IVF treatments.

Countless fertility medications.

Hormone injections that left bruises across my skin.

Specialists, procedures, alternative treatments… Everything… Absolutely everything… all in the space of five long, agonizing years, and yet every road led back here.

Back to this hospital bed.

Back to this pain.

Back to another child I would never get to hold.

I laughed bitterly through my tears.

Maybe the universe hated me.

Maybe fate had singled me out for punishment.

Maybe I had offended someone somewhere.

Maybe I was paying for sins I couldn't even remember committing.

What else could explain this endless cycle of hope and heartbreak?

I looked around the room. Even the nurses looked devastated. One of them quietly wiped tears from her eyes, and somehow that made everything hurt even more.

They knew me.

They had been there for three months.

They had celebrated when the IVF implantation worked.

They had hugged me when the pregnancy test came back positive.

They had joked endlessly about who would become the ‘hospital godmother’ of my baby.

Nurse Sandra had claimed the title first.

Nurse Hayley had argued she deserved it more. The two of them had spent weeks playfully fighting over it.

And every single time, I had laughed because I had imagined there would actually be a baby.

My baby.

God.

Everything hurt.

My body.

My heart.

My soul.

I pressed my hand against my chest.

It genuinely felt like someone was stabbing my heart over and over again.

I had wanted this child so badly.

More than anything.

More than I had ever wanted anything.

I just wanted to be a mother… Was that really too much to ask?

More tears slid down my face. I stopped trying to wipe them away. What was the point?

For several moments, nobody spoke or moved. Even the machines seemed quieter.

Eventually, I lifted my head, my vision blurred with tears. Instinctively, my eyes searched the room. Then the realization hit me.

Adrian.

Where was Adrian?

He should be here with me.

He hadn't said a single word on our way to the hospital, and when the doctor and nurses gathered, he seemed to have disappeared.

"Where's my husband?" I asked weakly.

No one answered immediately.

I looked toward Dr. John.

"Doctor... where's my husband?"

Something flickered across his face. The nurses behind him avoided my gaze. Neither of them met my eyes.

My heartbeat quickened.

Why were they acting like that?

"Dr. John?" I pressed, my voice trembling.

The doctor sighed heavily. For a brief moment, he pinched the bridge of his nose as though searching for the right words. Then he looked at me.

"Mr. Parker left the hospital. He left shortly after I told him the result of the examination.”