hen I got pregnant with our second child, my husband made a demand that would change everything. He told me that if it wasn’t a male heir, he would kick me and our daughter out of the house. I was forced to make a desperate choice, but years later, that decision caught up with me.
My husband and I had always wanted another child. “My dream is to be a father of two,” he often said. Our only daughter, Jessy, was about to turn seven, and we thought it would be the perfect time to try for another baby, so she could have a sibling to grow up with.
After my period was late by more than five weeks, I decided to visit my doctor. “Congratulations, Chrissy! You’re pregnant!” he said, and we were both overjoyed.
But then my husband, John, said something I’d never expected. He told me that, after having Jessy, if this pregnancy didn’t result in a male heir, he’d kick me and Jessy out of the house.
At the ultrasound appointment, I found out that we were expecting another girl. I didn’t know how to tell John, so I lied. When I got home, he eagerly asked, “How did it go? What did the doctor say?”
“Well…” I hesitated. “He said it’s not clear yet. We’ll find out when I’m in labor.” The day came for us to head to the hospital, and John was ready with two packed bags.
“What’s that for, John?” I asked, confused.
He glared at me. “If you give birth to another girl, you won’t set foot in this house again. You know that, don’t you?”
I was terrified, but I couldn’t back down now. The labor was grueling, and there was another woman in the ward who was also giving birth that day. I overheard her talking with her husband. “I want a baby girl,” she said.
“Honey,” he replied, “it doesn’t matter if it’s a boy or a girl. We’re just happy to become parents!”
I wish John had been more like him—someone who would love a child no matter their gender. But my reality was far different.
The woman gave birth first, and it was a boy. I felt trapped, as if I had no other option. I approached one of the nurses in private and asked if she could help me. I signed a check for thousands of dollars and begged her to swap the babies.
She hesitated, but seeing my desperation, she finally agreed. When she brought the baby boy to me, I thought I had made the right choice. The couple next to me was happy with their baby girl, and John was thrilled with the son he had always wanted. He spent the entire day playing with “Jimmy” and promised to teach him everything he knew as he grew.
But as Jimmy got older, he started complaining of pain, dizziness, and extreme fatigue. We took him to the doctor, where we discovered he was ill and needed a blood transfusion. Unfortunately, his blood didn’t match ours, and John discovered the truth—he wasn’t the biological father. He accused me of cheating, and in his anger, he kicked both me and Jessy out of the house at the worst possible moment.
I had nowhere to turn. If I asked Jimmy’s real parents for help, I’d be punished further. But when the doctor told me Jimmy didn’t have much time left, I knew I had no choice. I swallowed my pride and went to Mr. and Mrs. Willard. They agreed to help, but the consequences were harsh. Mrs. Willard was furious, crying as she asked, “How could you do this?” She threatened me and my family, but Jimmy, even though he was struggling, asked them not to press charges. They reluctantly agreed.
Everyone turned against me—my daughter Jessy, and even my biological daughter, who was raised by the Willards, called me disgusting.
I felt like the worst mother in the world, but at that moment, I didn’t care. All that mattered was saving Jimmy’s life.
After a difficult and emotional time, Jimmy finally recovered and was discharged from the hospital. He saw how miserable I was and came to comfort me. Holding my hand, he wiped away my tears and said, “Mom, I don’t care what anyone says. To me, you’re an amazing mother. You knew you’d face consequences, but you did it anyway. I love you.”
“I love you too, Jimmy,” I replied, “You’re my son, and you were the best thing that ever happened to me.”
In time, my daughter Jessy and even my biological daughter, whom I became closer to later on, forgave me. They saw my love for Jimmy, despite my past mistakes. I knew I still had much to make up for, but this was a start.