The Empty Delivery Room
The fluorescent lights of St. Mary’s Hospital in Chicago flickered slightly as I held one of my newborn twins, the other resting in the bassinet beside me. My body ached, my mind raced, and yet the silence in the room was deafening. No family members came to see me. Not my mother, not my sister, not even my husband. Weeks of anticipation, and now I faced the miracle of life completely alone.
Mocked By Family, Ignored By Husband
When I finally managed to speak to David on the phone, hoping for a visit, his mother, Evelyn, answered instead. Her voice was sharp, dripping with sarcasm.
“Twins? How convenient… but are you sure they’re his?” she sneered. “Maybe a DNA test is needed. You know how unpredictable… some things just don’t run in the family.”
I froze. My heart sank as I realized they were not just ignoring me—they were mocking me, humiliating me, and questioning the legitimacy of my children. David’s father chimed in, echoing Evelyn’s words, and even his sisters laughed over Facetime, painting me as unworthy and uncertain.
