VIP Maternity for Her, Nothing for Me

While waiting for my prenatal check-up, a young woman behind me accidentally bumped into me.

A faint trickle of blood stained my clothes. I gritted my teeth, clutching my agonizing pregnant belly, ready to call for help.

The young woman, Chloe, cried, begging me not to:

“My boyfriend is a famous OB-GYN. I promise your baby will be fine! I’ll call him down right away.”

She quickly called her boyfriend.

I heard him on the phone, his voice laced with concern:

“Chloe, I told you I’d pick you up today. Why did you come to the hospital yourself? The first trimester is the most dangerous!”

When her boyfriend arrived, I was shocked. Her boyfriend was my husband!

When my husband, Daniel Miller, appeared, my stomach pain intensified.

But his eyes held no one but Chloe.

“Are you okay? Were you scared? Do you feel unwell?”

Chloe looked up at him, her voice soft.

“I was afraid of causing trouble for you.”

Daniel ran a hand through her hair.

“Chloe, I fought my way to this position just so you could rely on me. I want to solve all your problems, you know?”

His words drained all strength from me. I couldn’t even straighten my arm to prop myself up from the floor. Amidst the gasps of the onlookers, I slid bonelessly to the ground.

But when I was pregnant, Daniel was nothing like this.

My pregnancy was fragile, and I bled often.

I tried to be sweet, asking Daniel to book a VIP check-up for me.

But Daniel just stared at me, his face blank.

“Ava, you’re an adult. Can you stop causing me trouble every single day?”

“I’m a medical associate professor. I have to treat all my patients fairly. If you want a VIP appointment, you’ll have to wait in line like everyone else!”

“I’m up for a promotion next year. Do you think a ‘good wife’ would jeopardize that?”

“Ava, you used to be so understanding. Why have you become so selfish since getting pregnant?”

My heart felt like it had been punched. I stammered out an explanation.

“I’m sorry… I just worried something would happen to our baby.”

Daniel and I had been married five years.

We’d gone through countless treatments, countless tests, and finally conceived this baby through IVF.

After I got pregnant, I was careful every single day.

But Daniel would say impatiently:

“I’m an OB-GYN. I know best if there’s a problem with the baby, Ava. Don’t be so fussy!”

It wasn’t until my face turned ghost-white that he finally sighed, softening his tone, trying to reassure me.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to our baby. Don’t you trust me? Come on, don’t cry.”

So I swallowed my hurt. Every prenatal check-up, I obediently waited in line for two hours, not even daring to ask Daniel to accompany me, afraid of bothering him at work.

But I never imagined he’d be spending that time with another woman!

At that moment, someone in the crowd finally noticed me.

“This pregnant woman is bleeding! She needs to go to the ER!”

Daniel finally turned his head and saw me.

He froze for a moment, then rushed over, trying to pull me up.

With my last ounce of strength, I slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

But the searing pain made me pass out.

I drifted in and out of consciousness, hearing Daniel’s frantic voice. “Ava, hold on, I’ll save you. I promise.”

“Massive bleeding, high-risk miscarriage. Prep the OR!”

The nurse stammered, hesitant.

“Dr. Miller, you have an important lecture coming up…”

Daniel cut her off.

“No one else can save this baby. I have to perform the surgery myself. I’ll take full responsibility for missing the lecture.”

My hand fell limp.

Thank God. Daniel still cared about our baby. With him, I wouldn’t lose this little life.

I don’t know how long passed before I woke up on the operating table.