Rapid Pregnancy Story

By month four of my IVF treatments, my husband's childhood sweetheart posted a picture of herself cradling her baby bump. The caption? [Having a happy ending with my first love. A family of three.] And there he was—his hand in the shot, making a cutesy heart with hers. Oh, and the cherry on top? He was still wearing his wedding ring.

I have a premature rupture of the membrane when I'm 38 weeks pregnant. I have no choice but to undergo an emergency C-section. To my surprise and dismay, the anesthesiologist is my ex-boyfriend, with whom I broke up eight months ago. God, save me! Could I please have another anesthesiologist? It's my ex-boyfriend's child I'm giving birth to, and I suddenly don't want to bring the child into the world anymore!

After five years of marriage, Zac Saunders felt the need to protect his son with his mistress. Not only did he pressure me into terminating the pregnancy, but he also conspired with the board of directors to remove me from my position as vice president. He held Jemma Jacobs close, wearing a wicked grin."Samantha Lewis," he sneered, "since you won't obey...""...Jemma take your place from now on," he continued.I pushed his hand away, pulling Jemma in front of me. Ignoring her struggles, I firmly grabbed her hair and forced her to tilt her head back."Come on," I urged, "tell him, who do you belong to?"

After I landed in the hospital—again—from working myself into the ground, Jacob swore he was done playing house stockbroker. "Starting tomorrow, I'll do anything. Haul bricks, deliver pizza, whatever. I'm not letting you carry this alone." His eyes were glassy as he stormed out of the exam room like he was about to save the day or something. Then the doctor walked in and handed me a report. I was pregnant. Again. Heart racing, I chased after Jacob... and froze. He was standing outside some super VIP room. The same guys who used to bang on our door for money were suddenly all respectful. "Mr. Klein, should we block her door again tomorrow?" Jacob twirled our engagement ring around his finger. "No need. She already lost one baby paying off those debts. The test's over. Time she knew who I really am." Then my best friend—Lillian Morvain—strolled out and wrapped her arms around his waist like she belonged there. "Jacob, don't go soft. Your tests usually last at least five years. What if she's just another gold digger? Plus... I'd miss you." He hesitated. Smirked. "Fine. We'll do it your way. She's not going anywhere anyway." I stood there, clutching my stomach, sliding down the wall like the air had been punched out of me. Later, I pushed open the office door. "Dr. Spencer, I need a termination. Three days from now."

Three months into my pregnancy, I was resting at home to ensure the baby’s health when a typhoon struck. My husband, Adam Quinn, received a call and rushed out to meet his childhood sweetheart. As a result, I experienced severe abdominal pain. The ambulance taking me to the hospital was involved in an accident, and I lost the baby. Adam arrived much later, only to blame me, saying, "Mona Thomas, why are you so useless? You couldn’t even keep the baby!"

My husband has a dangerous condition - Jacob's syndrome, a rare genetic disorder where men carry an extra Y chromosome (XYY). But it's not just the genetics - he has an uncontrollable rage that turns him into a monster. It all started when I saved his life. After that, he became obsessed with me, relentlessly pursuing me for three years. He deliberately ran his car into my childhood sweetheart, leaving him permanently disabled. Then he threatened to kill my entire family unless I married him. For seven years after our marriage, his controlling behavior became pathological. He even had a tracking chip implanted in my body and completely controlled my freedom. Yet at the same time, he showered me with endless love and catered to my every wish. When my mother-in-law pointed her finger at me while speaking, he snapped it without hesitation. When my sister-in-law's child disturbed my afternoon nap, he threw them both out of the house and severed all family ties. I refused to have a child, terrified of what darkness might be passed down, so he invested his entire fortune into developing cutting-edge genetic screening technology, making it possible for me to conceive a healthy baby. But on the very day I discovered I was pregnant... My mother-in-law stormed into our home with a group of people, accusing me of having an affair and carrying another man's child. They beat me until I lost the baby. As I lay there barely clinging to life, my husband finally arrived. My mother-in-law thrust a doctored video in his face and said, "Troy! Your wife had an affair and got pregnant with another man's child. Look, here's the proof!"

Waking up hungover next to my arch-nemesis – the city's most notorious fuckboy? Worst. Morning. Ever. I handled the walk of shame with icy dignity, but fate had a bigger curveball: one month later, two pink lines. My baby. My rules. His involvement? Zero. My flawless plan hit a snag when morning sickness ambushed me in the office restroom. He walked in. His eyes locked onto my still-flat stomach, darkening with something dangerous. Before I could blink, he had me pinned against the cold tile wall. "Who's the father?" he growled. I met his glare with a frosty smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know? Definitely not you." Then it happened: a hot tear hit my neck. His voice cracked, raw and desperate. "Don't... don't leave me. Please." Me: ...Dude. Seriously? THIS IS YOURS!

Out of the blue, my younger sister posted the result of her pregnancy test. The caption? "Thank you my dear brother-in-law for helping me when I needed help the most and fulfilling my dreams of becoming a mother!" Shocked and furious, I couldn't resist leaving a snide comment. "Congratulations. Maybe you can keep my husband too?" My husband's reaction? He blew up and dismissed me. "I just donated my seed to Cara! Don't make a scene, Barb!" Oh, I'll make a scene.

You spend a whole year carefully prepping for pregnancy… only to find out your husband cheated on you with his stepsister—and got her pregnant. 💔 So, you divorce that piece of trash and decide to have a baby on your own. But plot twist… the sperm donor you chose? Turns out he’s a freaking foreign prince?! 👑😱

The underprivileged student I've been sponsoring suddenly shows up at my birthday party, swaggering in and waving around a pregnancy report. "Look—Pheebs is pregnant with my baby! You'd better be smart and divorce her already!" I point at the report, stunned and confused. "Are you sure it's Phoebe who's pregnant with your child?" Victor Thompson, my beneficiary, smirks proudly as he fiddles with the pregnancy report. "Duh! We conceived the baby last month on our cruise trip!" The entire room falls into a stunned silence. My ex-wife, Phoebe Jackman, has been dead for three years.