The nurse checked Lucy’s twins before sending them home, but Lucy was shocked when the nurse brought them back. Instead of a boy and a girl, as Lucy had given birth to, the nurse brought two baby girls.
Lucy and her husband, Ross, had tried for a long time to have children, and they were thrilled when they found out they were expecting twins.
An ultrasound had shown they were having one boy and one girl, so the couple was eagerly waiting for their arrival. But when the nurse returned with two girls after the examination, Lucy’s face went pale.
Source: Pexels“Where is my son? What have you done with him? And who is this other baby girl?” Lucy demanded, looking straight at the nurse who had just brought the babies back.
“They’re both your daughters,” said the nurse, Savannah, her eyes glued to the paperwork. “I checked everything twice, and there’s no mistake.”
“Are you serious?” Lucy snapped. “I have reports showing I was supposed to deliver a boy and a girl. And after the delivery, I was told the same. There’s no way they’re both girls!”
Lucy saw the fear in the nurse’s eyes as she looked up from her papers. She was about to confront her further when Dr. Linda Carter walked in. “Could you please keep your voice down, ma’am? This is a hospital,” she said calmly.
“Keep my voice down? Your nurse brings me the wrong child and tells me she’s sure of it! Is this how your hospital runs? Should I contact the head doctor about this?” Lucy shot back.
“I agree with my wife,” Ross, Lucy’s husband, added. “We don’t want to make a scene, but if our son isn’t returned to us, we’ll call the police!”
“Please, sir, calm down,” Dr. Carter responded. “I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding. Savannah has been with us for years. Maybe she grabbed the wrong paperwork. Savannah, may I see the documents?” Dr. Carter asked. Savannah hesitated and then stammered, “No need, ma’am…I mean, I checked them. They’re correct.”
Dr. Carter sensed something odd and said gently, “It’s okay. Just let me take a quick look.” But when she reviewed the papers, she realized Lucy was right.
“Please give me a moment,” Dr. Carter said. “It seems Savannah brought the wrong reports. Another patient named Lucy Matthews also delivered twins, and it seems Savannah got confused.”
“I’m glad you finally saw the mistake,” Lucy said coldly. “Perhaps next time, your hospital could hire more careful staff.”
“I’m truly sorry, ma’am,” Dr. Carter said, turning to Savannah. “Come with me, Savannah. We need to get the correct records.”
Lucy noticed the tears in Savannah’s eyes as she followed Dr. Carter. Something seemed strange, so she decided to follow them quietly.
She watched as they entered Dr. Carter’s office, where Savannah started to cry. The door was slightly open, so Lucy listened in.
“What were you thinking, Savannah?” Dr. Carter said firmly. “Lucy Matthews delivered twins: a boy and a girl at 10:30 a.m. today. The reports confirm it. Why aren’t you telling the truth?”
“I didn’t have a choice,” Savannah sobbed. “The other baby girl belongs to my sister. Her husband abandoned her when he learned of her pregnancy, and sadly, she passed away after giving birth. I wanted to adopt her, but my husband refused.”
“Why don’t you place her in a foster home?” Dr. Carter suggested. “She’d be taken care of there.”
“I can’t,” Savannah replied, still crying. “My sister’s last wish was for her daughter to grow up in a loving family. When I saw Mr. and Mrs. Matthews today, I thought they’d be a wonderful family for her. So I swapped Mrs. Matthews’ son with my sister’s daughter and took him to the nursery.”
“But that’s not right, Savannah,” Dr. Carter said gently. “You need to return their son now. We’ll keep this confidential. I’ll help you find a solution.”
Hearing this, Lucy felt a mix of emotions. Savannah had no ill intentions; she simply wanted her niece to be part of a loving family. Lucy quietly returned to her room.
A few minutes later, Dr. Carter brought Lucy’s son back and apologized. Having overheard the situation, Lucy chose not to complain. But that night, she couldn’t stop thinking about the other baby girl and her innocent face.
The next morning, Lucy confessed her feelings to Ross. “I can’t stop thinking about her,” she said. “I dreamt about her last night. She was in our home, living happily with us. It doesn’t make sense, but I can’t shake it.”
“It’s because of yesterday, honey,” Ross said, trying to comfort her. “Maybe you need a distraction. How about we go somewhere?”
“No, Ross,” Lucy replied. “I want to adopt her.”
“But honey!” Ross exclaimed. “Are you sure? We already have two newborns. A third would be a lot to manage!”
“I understand, but I can’t ignore this feeling,” Lucy insisted. “Can we please go to the hospital today?”
“Alright, if this is what you want,” Ross agreed. “I’m with you, but I just want to make sure it’s not too much for you.”
Ross eventually changed his mind when he met the baby. She had warm brown eyes with a hint of green and stared at him innocently. He couldn’t resist her charm.
“I’m so glad you’ve decided to adopt her,” Dr. Carter said. “She’s lucky to have found a loving family.”
“Well, doctor,” Lucy said, smiling, “after so much time trying for kids, we can’t ignore this chance now. Just let us know when we can bring her home.”
“As soon as the paperwork is ready,” Dr. Carter assured them.
In time, everything was arranged, and Lucy and Ross took the little girl home. They named her Amelia, and it felt like their family was finally complete.
Savannah often visited them to check in, grateful beyond words. She became a regular visitor, spending weekends with the twins, Sia and Mark, and Amelia.
New 1470
The husband who frequently disparaged his wife’s culinary skills was profoundly shaken by a covert message tucked into his sandwich
Throughout our relationship, my husband habitually treated me with disrespect, but a recent incident pushed me to my limit. Fueled by frustration, I crafted a memorable lesson that ultimately led to the dissolution of our marriage.
On what appeared to be an ordinary weekend filled with routine chores and work commitments, my husband’s playful yet often harsh humor escalated inappropriateness. Over our two-year marriage, his constant belittlement had become a painful norm. He criticized everything from my housekeeping to my appearance, frequently berating my culinary efforts.
His comments on my cooking were particularly cutting. “You really can’t do anything right, can you? You can’t even cook properly,” he would half-joke, his words laced with seriousness. Recently, these comments had become intolerably hurtful.
Last weekend, while preparing dinner in hopes of easing his criticisms, I decided to make pasta. It was not just any pasta, but a rich, meaty sauce with vegetables that required hours of simmering. My husband, preoccupied with a work deadline, paid little attention as I meticulously cooked.
When dinner was ready, I called him to the table, hoping for a brief respite from our ongoing disputes over my cooking. However, his response was immediate and scornful. “What kind of garbage did you cook up tonight?” he sneered, not even bothering to look at the meal before insulting it.
His words were the final straw. Overwhelmed by the constant degradation and the stress of my nursing job, I snapped. The pot of sauce, a symbol of my efforts, crashed to the floor, splattering the rug with my frustration. I declared sharply, “Well, now there’s nothing for dinner, and I better not hear that word from you again!”
Rather than empathizing with my distress, he fixated on the ruined rug. “Jenna, that’s an expensive rug! It was just a joke!” he exclaimed, attempting to downplay the situation. His trivializing of my feelings only deepened my resolve.
Perhaps it was the accumulation of insults or just the strain of a rough day, but I left without a word, seeking solace with takeout food and a friend’s company. My friend found humor in the situation, but Jimmy, my husband, was irate, bombarding me with messages trying to explain that his derogatory comment was part of a viral TikTok trend.
His excuses did little to mend the emotional damage his words had caused. The disrespect, masked as humor, was more than I could bear. Despite his continued pleas, I had reached my breaking point.
Resolved to enact my revenge, I devised a plan. That night, after returning home to find Jimmy asleep, I accessed his phone, gathering his pin codes and passwords.
The next morning, I greeted him with feigned kindness, which he met with sarcasm. Despite his coldness, I prepared him a special breakfast, which, to my surprise, he enjoyed. As he prepared for work, I packed him a sandwich with a hidden note inside: “Real garbage, see you never.”
With my belongings packed, I awaited the unfolding of my plan. Shortly after he discovered the note at work, Jimmy’s desperate messages began, but I was unmoved. The note’s other side bore a grim warning about his career, hinting at a devastating revelation.
My final act of revenge involved sending an email from his account to his company, exposing his fraudulent activities. His subsequent apologies were met with silence from me.
The journey through this ordeal was arduous but necessary. I divorced Jimmy, freeing myself from the cycle of disrespect. My parting gift was more than a mere note; it was a reflection of the consequences of his actions.
As I embarked on a new chapter, free from the shadow of devaluation, I recognized the true measure of self-worth. The dignity I preserved by leaving a situation that failed to honor my value marked the beginning of a promising future, one rich with respect, love, and self-appreciation.
This story serves as a prelude to another complex tale from the “AITA” subreddit, involving a woman, her husband, and his insensitive friend, Austin. Their story dives into the nuances of relationship dynamics, empathy, and the emotional toll of infertility, highlighting the importance of support and understanding within a partnership.
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