My Husband, Her Eggs, My Womb Novels & Stories

"They say I have no womb, They say I've never been pregnant. They say I'm barren." Dr. Hayes went very still. "You were there," I said and the tears were running down my face now and I couldn't stop them and I didn't try. "You were in that room with me. You held my hand when they told me he was gone. You told me he had his father's jaw." My voice cracked all the way through on that one. " I need you to run another test. Run it right now. Check me yourself and tell me—" I grabbed his arm and I was not ashamed of how desperate it came out. "Tell me my womb is okay. Tell me I'm not wh at that paper says I am….Please."

achievable. "What kind of therapy are we talking about?" I ask. "An injection of human chorionic gonadotropin or HCG for short. It would trigger your ovulation and make your body produce more eggs to grow in the ovaries... I do not want to undermine the work of your previous doctor but from what I see your endometriosis is only a stage II and there have been cases of women getting pregnant naturally, your problem lies within the eggs you produce, and with this therapy, I firmly believe you will be a mother one day." Her words lifted a weight off my chest and replaced it with a sense of tranquility. I could become the mother of Adam's babys. He would be the father of my kids.

She rubbed my back trying to calm me down. Bart sat up and crossed his arms over his chest. “Its fine, Jo. Pregnancy…” He paused a moment and huffed under his breath. “Pregnancy happens when the woman’s egg is fertilized by the man’s sperm. Once they join together, they fuse in woman’s womb and then implantation happens. Over a series of weeks, the fertilized egg grows into a baby. That’s the short version…” Bart explained matter-of-factly. I have eggs? Like a chicken? Okay but how does the egg get fertilized? I felt confused still and apparently it showed. “Pregnancy can only result when you have sex…” I looked down at the ground as I started to understand. We had a lot of sex… So… What am

I feel like that was the case. The more I struggle to get pregnant over time, the fewer words he speaks to me. His sentences get shorter and shorter, even though we practically spend the entire day together. But I can't complain. Winston had nothing to do with it; my body was to blame. My body is so insanely healthy that I will not die for hundreds of years yet, but why is my womb not working properly no matter how much I care for it? I can't conceive! I promise to treat our next child better, to give him everything he deserves, but why isn't the world giving me that chance?

My eyes squinted but I didn't respond. “Kian, the deed has been done. I removed my womb. So what? Can we not live like a normal couple without a child?” She asked like a foolish person that she was. My heart squeezed in my chest. Whenever she talked about this, I only hate her more. Taking out your womb without your husband's permission was an abomination, not just to me but the entire pack. How on earth does she plan to get an heir? Instead of responding to her, I mind linked Paul, “Get your fat ass here and take this woman out of my sight”

“Sometimes, when you fall asleep on my chest, I stay awake just to feel you breathe. It reminds me you’re real.” I swallowed, a tiny ache blooming under my ribs. “You know, a normal husband's snoring. They don’t say things like that.” He grinned. “Normal husbands don’t get you.” I pressed my lips to the back of his hand. “Good, I never wanted normal, anyway.” ---

I had taken him from her, and stripping that away from him was like robbing me of my own identity. This was all about her baby, and the fact that she found me childless only elevated her status. But I was determined to pop that inflated ego. As soon as my useless husband and his equally useless mother left the cottage, I dialed my IVF doctor to schedule my insemination. “Mrs. Norwood, your husband called a few weeks ago and asked me to dispose of his sample,” he informed me. My eyes widened in shock as I leapt from my chair. “What? When? Why didn’t you contact me!” I yelled.

Over and over again I felt each one, heard each breath he was taking, felt his muscles in his body relax and contract like he was having a full body orgasm. I thought back to the picture I had sent to my husband earlier. It was dark, but you could clearly make out the torn diaphragm lying in the garbage can at the bar. I knew as soon as he pulled his cock out of me in the bathroom that he had pushed his cock right through the old, worn, slightly brittle device that was inside of me, preventing any of his sperm from entering into my womb and searching out the egg that was sure to be there.

“The-the results. Those are the results.” “Explain it to us. Layman terms.” “Impaired fecundity,” Dr Igor started. Alek banged his fist on the table. Camilla gulped. “Layman terms, doctor.” “Well,” Dr Igor murmured, his brows crunching. “In simpler words, yes? She has the um, the, you know, the womb—” “The what?” Alek gritted out. “Her womb is similar to that of a fifty-year-old woman,” Dr Igor rushed out.

He said and went upstairs. “ I know it's this witch you call your wife that is controlling you, how can you put your baby in this dirty room and allow the one who is never pregnant to be in the master's bedroom with you?” She hissed and went into the room. “ Tell someone to bring my bags for me, they are still at the entrance where I left them.” She spoke from inside. “ No one is available to bring your bags, kindly go outside and bring them in yourself.” I smiled and went upstairs too.