How To Get Rid Of Braxton Hicks

What hurts more than falling in love with a person who could never love you back? Eloise Rivers, being in dire need of money for her brother’s hospital fees, agrees to marry multi-millionaire Vaughn Ryder and become his surrogate. The catch? Vaughn gets to stay with his long-term girlfriend and divorce Eloise after she gives them the baby. However, in the worst circumstances, Eloise falls in love with Vaughn when Vaughn could never love her back. And now that she is pregnant, Vaughn suddenly wants to call off their deal? “I’m pregn—” “Let’s get a divorce,” Vaughn coldly said. “What?” Eloise looked at him with wide eyes. “Let’s call off the deal while you’re still not pregnant. Alina already said that she’s willing to start a family with me.” ‘But I already am,’ she wanted to say. But in the end, Vaughn had already made his decision. He didn’t want the baby.

When Emily hears that her childhood sweetheart and contract husband, Carlos, wants a divorce, her world starts crashing down. She's hurt and heartbroken. And if that isn't bad enough... She's pregnant.

At nine months pregnant, I was in the final stretch of my term, and my body heavy with a baby due any day. But my husband, Vito Falcone, underboss of the family, had locked me away. He held me in a sterile underground medical room and injected me with a labor suppressant. As I screamed in agony, he coldly told me to endure it. Because his brother's widow, Scarlett, was expected to go into labor at the exact same time. A blood oath he'd made with his late brother declared that the firstborn son would inherit the family's lucrative West Coast territory. "That inheritance belongs to Scarlett's child," he said. "With Daemon gone, she is utterly alone and destitute. You have my love, Alessia. All of it. I just need her to deliver safely. Then it's your turn." The drug was a constant, agonizing torment. I begged him to take me to a hospital. He grabbed me by the throat, forcing me to meet his icy gaze. "Stop the act! I know you're fine. You’re just trying to steal the inheritance." "To get ahead of Scarlett, you'll stop at nothing." My face was ashen. My body convulsed as I managed a desperate whisper. "The baby's coming. I don't care about the inheritance. I just love you, and I want our child to be born safely!" He sneered. "If you were really that innocent, if you had an ounce of love for me, you wouldn't have forced Scarlett to sign that prenup, waiving her child's inheritance rights." "Don't worry, I'll be back for you after she's given birth. you're carrying my own flesh and blood, after all." He kept a vigil outside Scarlett's delivery room all night. It was only after seeing the newborn in her arms that he remembered me. He finally sent his second in command, Marco, to release me. But when Marco finally called, his voice was shaking. "Boss... the missus and the baby... they're gone." In that moment, Vito Falcone shattered.

The contractions were ripping me in two. My vision was going dark. My husband, Don Vittorio, the man who ruled Chicago, squeezed my hand. His dark eyes burned with love. "Just a little longer, mia cara. You'll meet our baby soon." Sweat poured down my face. I still found the strength to smile for him. Then a nurse walked in. She held a syringe. I thought it was to stop the pain. But Vittorio’s hand fell away. He took a single step back. The needle sank into my arm. I heard Vittorio’s voice. It was cold steel. "Dose her carefully. She holds on until midnight. Not a minute sooner. Not until after Ornella delivers." And then I knew. He thought I married him for the money. He was stopping my labor. All for a sick Falcone family rule: the first son born is the next heir. Pain tore through me. I reached for him. Tears streamed down my face. I begged him to stop. He bit his lip. His voice was pure ice. "My brother is dead. Ornella carries his only heir. You will do as you are told. You and your child will not steal his birthright." The drug hit my veins. The violent squeeze in my belly, like some invisible hand, just… stopped.

Six months into my pregnancy, I heard my baby's cry for help. 'Mommy, save me. Please, do the C-section early. I have a congenital breathing condition. If you don't get me out now, I'll suffocate.' I listened to my baby's desperate pleading, gritted my teeth, and agreed to an early cesarean. In the end, my daughter and I both died. Right before I went, I heard the doctor say, with real regret, that the baby had been perfectly healthy. There'd been nothing wrong with her at all. When I opened my eyes again, I was pregnant once more, and once again I heard my baby crying for help. Only this time, another voice answered—soft and sweet, like a much younger child. 'Mommy, don't believe that voice. They want you to deliver early so they can give my umbilical cord blood to his illegitimate son. That boy has a blood disease, and without cord blood this month, he'll die. That's the only reason that lowlife husband of yours is so desperate to rush you into labor.'

I was nine months along and ready to give birth, but my husband, Sean Conner, had me locked in the basement storage room and told me to hold the baby in. He said it was because his late brother’s wife, Quinn Faber, was also due today. Years ago, Sean and his brother had agreed that the first child born to the Conners would be raised as the heir and inherit the family inheritance. “Quinn’s baby must come first,” Sean said as if it were nothing. “She lost her husband and has nothing. You already have my love. It’s only right that the inheritance goes to her child.” The pain from the contractions folded me over, and I cried, begging him to take me to the hospital. He wiped my tears with a dangerously calm voice. “Stop the act,” he snapped. “I always knew you didn’t love me. All you care about is money and status. You forced labor to happen early so you could steal my nephew’s place… How can you be so cruel?” White-faced and shaking, I managed to whisper, “I can’t control when a baby comes. It’s a coincidence. I swear I don’t care about the inheritance. I love you!” He let out a cold laugh. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have pushed Quinn to sign that contract relinquishing her child’s inheritance. Fine. Once she has her baby, I’ll come back for you. After all, the child in your belly is my blood.” Sean stayed outside Quinn’s delivery room. Only after the newborn arrived did he remember me. He ordered his secretary to take me to the hospital, but the secretary’s voice trembled as he said. “Madam… and the baby… They’re both gone…” At that moment, Sean lost his mind.