ADVERTISEMENT

“You’ll suffer naturally because you’re toxic,” my doctor husband sneered, blocking the nurses from performing a C-section for my giant 10-pound baby as revenge for his intern. I writhed in pain, clutching the bed rails until my knuckles turned white. When the grueling delivery finally ended, the heavy delivery room doors banged open. My husband staggered in, his face drained of color as he looked at the newborn chart, fell to the floor, and shrieked, “No… that’s impossible! Whose child is-“

ADVERTISEMENT

dose of Pitocin. She intended to hyper-stimulate my already failing uterus to guarantee a fatal rupture. She was attempting to execute me.”

Bradley’s whimpering ceased. He stared up at me, his jaw slack, sheer disbelief warring with the physical pain.

“And here is the pathology of your soul,” I continued, my eyes boring into his. “I reviewed the high-definition continue reading …

ADVERTISEMENT

Leave a Comment

ADVERTISEMENT