After years of trying to have children, the birth of our triplets, Sophie, Lily, and Grace, was a dream come true. As I held my baby girls in the hospital room, their calm expressions overwhelmed me with great love.
But when my husband Jack went in the next day to bring us home, something was off. His face was pallid, and his movements were hesitant. He stood by the entrance, unwilling to get closer.
“Jack,” I said softly, trying to ease his nerves, “come look at them. They’re here. These lovely little angels. We did it.”
He shuffled closer. “Yeah… they’re beautiful,” he muttered, but the words felt hollow.
“What’s going on?” I pressed, my voice trembling.
He took a deep breath and blurted out, “Emily, I don’t think we can keep them.”
I glanced at him, my heart sinking. “What are you talking about? They’re OUR daughters!”
Jack turned away, his words shaky. “My mom went to see a fortune teller. She said… she said these babies will bring bad luck. That they’ll ruin my life… even cause my d3ath.”
I froze, disbelief washing over me. “A fortune teller?” I repeated, my voice rising. “Jack, they’re babies, not bad omens!”
He looked torn but nodded grimly. “My mom swears by her. She’s never been wrong before.”
Anger boiled in my chest. “And because of this, you want to abandon them? You want to leave your own daughters in the hospital?”
Jack couldn’t meet my eyes. “If you want to keep them, fine,” he said weakly, “but I won’t be there.”
Tears blurred my vision as his words sunk in. “If you walk out that door, Jack,” I whispered, my voice breaking, “don’t come back.”
He paused for a moment, shame flashing across his eyes. However, he turned and walked away without saying anything else.
The door shut behind him, and I sat transfixed with sh0ck. A nurse appeared shortly after, her expression softening as she observed my tears.
Over the next few weeks, I acclimated to life as a single mother.
Then one afternoon, Beth, Jack’s sister, paid him a visit. She had been one of the few members of his family to support me. That day, her expression was pained, and I knew she was going to say something.
“Emily,” she began hesitantly, “I overheard Mom talking to Aunt Carol. She… she admitted there was no fortune teller.”
I froze. “What are you saying?”
Beth sighed, her face full of regret. “She made it up. She thought that if she convinced Jack the girls would bring bad luck, he’d stay close to her instead of focusing on you and the babies. Moreover, she had wanted grandsons. And she was really disappointed right from the gender reveal party. I guess she’d been planning this for a long time.”
Rage surged through me. “She li:ed to destroy our family,” I whispered, my hands shaking. “How could she?”
Beth nodded. “I don’t think she realized he’d actually leave, but I thought you should know.”
I did not sleep that night. I wanted to face Jack, but more importantly, I needed him to understand the reality. The following morning, I called him.
“Jack, it’s me,” I said when he answered. “We need to talk.”
He sighed heavily. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Your mother li:ed,” I said, anger making my voice tremble. “There was no fortune teller. She made it up because she didn’t want to share you with us. She wanted grandsons. She was disappointed right from the gender reveal party.”
Silence stretched on the other end. Finally, he scoffed. “My mom wouldn’t lie about something this big.”
“She admitted it to her sister, Jack. Beth overheard her. Why would I make this up?”
“I’m sorry, Emily,” he said dismissively. “I can’t do this.”
The line became d3ad.
Then one day, Jack’s mother knocked at my home. Her face was pale, and her eyes were filled with remorse.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “I never thought Jack would leave you. I just… I was scared of losing him.”
“And what about your preference for grandsons over granddaughters? Your fear and selfishness destroyed my family,” I said coldly.
She nodded, her face crumpling. “I’m so sorry. I’ll do anything to make it right.”
I shook my head. “There’s nothing you can do. Please leave.”
She walked away, her shoulders slumped.
A year later, Jack showed up on my doorstep, looking gaunt and ashamed. “I made a mistake,” he said, his voice breaking. “I should have believed you. I’m sorry. I want to come back. I want to be a family again.”
But I had already made my choice.
“You left us when we needed you most,” I said firmly. “We’ve built a life without you, and I won’t let you hurt us again.”
I shut the door, my heart steady and strong.
That night, while rocking my daughters to sleep, I realized we didn’t need Jack. Our family was complete—just myself and my girls.
Newborns represent optimism and new beginnings, but these stories demonstrate how family drama can leave a long shadow. In the face of tragedy, these parents’ perseverance shows through, demonstrating that love for their children can withstand any storm.
