Romans & histoires Male Pregnant Stories

I asked him. He glanced at me a second time, I could sense the fear in his eyes. He started to speak very carefully: "We ran several tests. "For what? Food poisoning?" "No." He said, shaking his head. "Then what?" He hesitated. “You are pregnant.”

Aria’s POV The doctor used the word rest six times in ten minutes. By the seventh time, I wanted to scream. “I am resting,” I insisted. The woman on the screen gave me a patient look during the video consultation. “With respect, Miss Collins, emotional stress affects pregnancy more than most people realize.” I sat curled into the corner of the couch, trying very hard not to look irritated. Across the room, Damien stood near the dining area speaking quietly with Marcus while pretending not to listen. Pretending badly.

I’m 32 years old now and I’m living a shitty existence in downtown Portland, making equally shitty coffee and waiting tables. The coffee shop was the best I could do on short notice. Three years later, I’m still working there, because no one else would hire me. Not after the scandal. Not after the tabloid posts and the newspaper articles, painting me as the “the ungrateful slut wife, who made a sex tape with another man.”

The people at the diner knew I was alone and pregnant and worked hard, and that was enough of a story for them. What none of them knew — what I still hadn't let myself sit with fully, even eight months out — was what Ada had said in the grass that night, breathless, her hand locked around my arm like she thought I might bolt before she got the words out. It wasn't about her.

It was actually my idea to go for that prenatal checkup. Compared to other women six months along, my belly was far too big—almost the size of someone carrying twins. I looked it up online. A baby that grew too large could make delivery dangerous for both mother and child. That was why I suggested another hospital visit, just to be safe. I never expected that this marriage, or James' six years of persistence in chasing me, was nothing but a complete lie. I was never his wife. I was just the substitute carrying the child he wanted for himself and Natasha.

"Death compensation? I never even saw the so-called death notice the firm supposedly sent to me! In the second month after you disappeared, Molly kicked me out. She'd racked up gambling debts and wanted to sell me off to Jim to pay them back! "I was pregnant and hiding from her in a leaking basement apartment. I didn't even have money for regular checkups—I had to borrow some for every appointment! "I thought you were dead, Ian, and even then I was willing to die to protect your child. And what were you doing? You chose to believe that cruel woman and that scheming psychiatrist over me. You never once thought to come back and see me with your own eyes!"

"I got pregnant, and he was terrified. He kept pressuring me to get rid of the baby. When I refused, he pushed me down a flight of stairs..." She placed a hand on her now-flat stomach. Hatred blazed in her eyes. "I killed him for revenge. And while I was at it, I helped you get rid of a worthless piece of trash." The floating comments exploded. [I knew it! I knew Herman was cheating!] [That plot twist just gave me chills!] The baby sniffled miserably. [Mommy, I'm sorry. I didn't know...] I gently stroked my stomach, trying to comfort the baby.

Grace's heart pounded as she looked at Ava. "So, how is it?" Grace asked desperately as she rose from the seat. Ava cautioned her to calm herself. "Grace, I have some incredible news for you," Ava said, her voice filled with happiness and excitement. "You're pregnant!" Grace's eyes widened, and she felt her breath catch in her chest. A mix of emotions swept over her - joy, relief, disbelief. She couldn't believe that after months of trying, she had finally conceived. Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized that her dream of becoming a mother was coming true.