Story

Doctor Assists in His Ex-Girlfriend’s Labor—But Goes Pale the Moment He Sees the Baby

The maternity ward bustled that morning. At a major hospital in the heart of Mexico City, silence was a rare luxury. Dr. Alejandro had just finished a cesarean section when an urgent call came through: a woman in active labor, nearly fully dilated, needed the attending physician at once.

He hurriedly changed his scrubs and stepped into the delivery room. But when his eyes fell on the patient, he froze.

It was Valeria—his former lover, the woman who had stood beside him for seven years before vanishing without a single explanation. Now she lay there, drenched in sweat, her belly straining, clutching her phone tightly. As recognition flickered across her face, fear and disbelief mingled in her gaze.

“You’re… the head doctor?” she whispered.

Alejandro said nothing. He gave a brief nod and wheeled the stretcher forward.

The labor quickly turned dangerous. Valeria’s blood pressure plunged, the baby’s heartbeat weakened, and immediate intervention was required. Yet Alejandro remained steady, guiding his tense but coordinated team through the crisis.

After nearly forty grueling minutes, the baby was born.

As Alejandro lifted the child into his arms, he froze again.

The infant bore the same dark, deep-set eyes and identical dimples Alejandro himself had as a boy.

His pulse thundered. The sounds of the room seemed to fade. Then he noticed it—a tiny teardrop-shaped birthmark on the baby’s shoulder. The rare family mark, passed from his grandfather to his father, and to him.

The nurse extended her hands for the newborn. Alejandro hesitated before surrendering the child. She stroked the boy’s cheek tenderly, then carried him away to be cleaned and swaddled.

For illustrative purposes only.

When Alejandro turned back, Valeria lay exhausted on the bed, her gaze averted.

“Why… why didn’t you ever tell me?” Alejandro asked, his voice hoarse.

Her lips quivered as tears slipped free.

“I… I wanted to. But everything collapsed around me. My parents pressured me, you were drowning in work… I thought you’d hate me, thought you’d leave me…”

Alejandro stood in silence until the nurse returned the newborn, now bundled and warm. As he cradled his son, his hands trembled. A rush of recognition and revelation swept over him, awakening something primal—the instinct of a father.

“Valeria… no matter what happened before, I will never abandon you. Or our son,” he declared, his voice firm and resolute.

At last, she lifted her eyes to his. Red with tears, yet glimmering with fragile hope.

From the hallway came the newborn’s cry—announcing not only his arrival but the rebirth of two souls who had once lost each other.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only.

Related Posts

When the quintuplets were born, the room didn’t fill with joy — it froze with suspicion

The Silence That Spoke Louder Than Words When the quintuplets were born in 1995, the hospital room was not filled with celebration. No cheers. No joyful tears. Instead,...

12 Kindness Stories That Made Us Want to Hug the Whole World

Sometimes it seems that kindness is a rare luxury, but in fact, it is everywhere; we just don’t always notice it. We put together amazingly real-life stories, in...

A Woman Gave Me Her Number on a Plane, but I Wasn’t Prepared for the Outcome

Air travel often brings unexpected interactions — from casual small talk to fleeting connections that stick with us long after landing. Sometimes, what begins as a harmless conversation...

I’m Not Contributing a Penny to My Late Husband’s Alleged Child

It’s been 5 years since my husband passed away, and I’ve been raising our child on my own. Life as a single mom hasn’t been easy, but we’ve...

My Dad Discarded Mom for a 24-Year-Old — I Took Revenge

I’m Emily, 27, and I need to get this off my chest. Maybe someone out there can tell me if what I did was unforgivable—or if my pain...

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *