Can You Breastfeed While Taking Medication?

May Austin is left to care for her sick younger sister, Lily. Struggling to afford Lily’s medical treatment, May signs a surrogacy contract with the powerful Stones family, agreeing to bear a child for Damien Stone, the ruthless and handsome CEO. The procedure is impersonal—they never meet, and Damien only glimpses her in dimly lit rooms. May gives birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The family takes the boy, leaving May to flee with her daughter and sister, disappearing abroad to build a new life. For five years, she raises her daughter Aria while Lily grows healthy and excels academically. Their paths cross unexpectedly at an airport when Aria bumps into Damien. He feels an instant, inexplicable attachment to the girl, unaware she is his daughter. Sparks fly as Damien encounters May professionally when she returns as a director at his company. Attraction, tension, and unresolved pasts begin to surface. Meanwhile, their children play a pivotal role in reconnecting their parents. Damien’s grandfather, Daxton Stone, disapproves due to class differences and manipulates circumstances to challenge May and Damien, while Damien’s parents wholeheartedly support May. Corporate intrigue, sabotage, and a vindictive fiancée create further tension, especially as May’s son, Aiden, suffers domestic abuse and entrusts May to protect him. Alongside a parallel romance between Damien’s boyfriend, David, and May’s best friend, the story weaves love, resilience, and family into a gripping tapestry. As truths emerge and past grievances confront them, Damien and May must navigate threats, heal old wounds, and embrace the family destiny they never imagined. One Pregnancy, Two Babies is a story of love, sacrifice, second chances, and the unbreakable bonds of family, where children are the bridge that reconnects hearts separated by fate.

In the bedroom, I am being manipulated into various positions. A strange man reaches out toward me and fondles my body roughly with his callused hands. He leans in closer and tells me to relax because it will help release the milk quickly. The man before me is my husband's best friend. He was hired to be my lactation therapist. His hands roam across my waist slowly and pause right at my chest. I can hear him saying in a hoarse voice, "I'm going to start massaging here." I can't help but shudder before closing my eyes tightly.

A few days before my postpartum period ended, I found two plane tickets to Mirelia tucked inside Daryl’s wallet. I was secretly delighted. I thought he had planned a surprise for me. But on the very day I was supposed to recover, he told me that his company had suddenly sent him on a business trip. I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep—only to see his first love post on social media. [Finally fulfilled our promise to kiss at Saint Vyron Cathedral. Thank you, God. After all this time, it’s still you.] The photo showed the two of them holding hands and kissing. I didn’t confront him right away. Instead, I turned to look at my sleeping daughter beside me, then picked up my phone. [Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll take over the family business.]

To cure our daughter's pancreatic cancer, I made a deal with the System, trading the rest of my life for a miracle drug. My husband called me insane to my face, but secretly gave the medicine to his mistress to treat her facial scar. When I was falling apart in despair, he had the audacity to explain: "Vicky has dreams of becoming a star. She's already 24, she can't wait any longer. "Besides, didn't you get that drug by sleeping around? How could a housewife like you possibly get such high-end medicine on your own? If you want to save our daughter, why don't you go whore yourself out again? It's not like it'll kill you, right?" But the truth is, I really don't have another life to trade for another dose.

I'm at the amusement park with my husband and our daughter when my blouse—still damp from breastfeeding—catches the eye of a father from my daughter's kindergarten class. He secretly takes pictures of me and starts blackmailing me, demanding a taste. My husband and our daughter are close by, but he grows bolder by the minute and orders me to undo his belt.

I am born with a body that draws men in, but the moment I marry, I develop a terrifying allergy to them. Every time my husband and I try to be intimate, my skin erupts in violent rashes, and I nearly suffocate. Still, I want a child so badly that one night I climb into his bed in secret, willing to gamble with my life. Strangely, nothing happens—no hives, no swelling, no shortness of breath. My husband even takes me to a clinic, where the baby is confirmed healthy. For the first time, I believe life can return to normal. Eight months in, we share a bed again. The allergic reaction hits instantly, worse than ever, and I'm rushed to the hospital. When the procedure ends, he is nowhere to be seen. I step into the hallway and hear him talking with his friends. "Did you see her face? Swollen like that. Ridiculous." Leonard Carter swings a vial of the custom serum he has been giving me and snorts. "I engineered this formula myself. It makes her break out the second a man touches her. It keeps her off me. "She wanted a baby so badly. Fine. She's carrying mine and Hannah's. That should make her feel accomplished. "When she gives birth, I'll let her spend the rest of her life calling herself Mrs. Carter." Blood drains from my face. The child I've been cherishing isn't even mine.