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"What are you talking about? I've been carrying this baby for nine months!"
The doctor exhaled slowly, struggling to get the words out.
"You're not carrying a baby. This isn't a pregnancy. What you're carrying inside is a huge lump."
Her world collapsed in an instant.
"No... that's impossible. The research... these lines..."
“They were probably reacting to hormonal changes caused by the tumor,” he explained gently. “It's rare, but it does happen.”
She later admitted that she avoided ultrasound and modern tests, emphasizing:
"In the past, women gave birth without all this. I didn't want technology to harm my baby."
Now all those months of hope, whispered lullabies, promises made to a child who never was—were shattered. She pressed trembling hands to her stomach and muttered,
"But... I believed..."
Doctors immediately referred her for further tests. To her relief, the tumor turned out to be benign. The surgery saved her life.
When she awoke and recovered, she sat by the window of her hospital room, contemplating this cruel twist of fate. She hadn't become a mother, but she had been given something else: another chance to live, to enjoy life, and to love the people who were still with her.
As she was preparing to leave the hospital, the doctor who first revealed the truth to her said:
"You are incredibly strong. Maybe this—your survival—is a miracle destined for you."
For the first time in months, she smiled, carrying with her another gift: not motherhood, but life itself.
