After childbirth, David lost his wife, Joan, and couldn’t even look at their baby or go through her things. But after working with a therapist, he finally began sorting through his wife’s belongings. He charged her phone and discovered several text messages that changed everything.
“Despite our best efforts, we couldn’t save your wife. She’s gone, sir.”
Those horrid words ran through David’s mind several times a day since the birth of his baby, a beautiful daughter. But he couldn’t even look at her after leaving the hospital. He was so destroyed that his dear Joan was no longer alive. Luckily, his mother took over and watched the baby as much as possible.
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David did the bare minimum, so deep in his grief, he couldn’t see anything. But one day, his mother had enough and ordered him to see a therapist immediately. He agreed and started going to one, working through his despair.
Finally, it felt like there was light at the end of the tunnel, and although the doctor’s words still ran through his mind often, he wasn’t so affected anymore.
His mother was proud of him, but David still didn’t dare hold his baby. He was still working through it with the therapist. Maybe I’ll hold her one day. Or perhaps I should just give her up to someone who would be a better parent, he thought sometimes.
But he shook his head, dispelling that thought quickly. Today was about something else. He had something else on his mind. It was time to go through Joan’s things, get them sorted, and give some away to charity.
He hadn’t even touched her hospital bag since the day he brought it home with the baby. It was too painful. But for the first time in three months, he was finally brave enough. He opened the bag and found her cellphone inside. It had run out of battery during her labor and hadn’t been charged since then.
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He plugged the phone into the wall then he started going through Joan’s clothes. An hour later, he grabbed the phone again and noticed several missed calls and some messages.
At first, some were congratulatory because Joan’s friends knew she went into labor. But one of her friends, Melissa, continued texting even after the news of her death reached their entire social circle.
“I’m not the only one who misses her,” he thought as he browsed through the messages, smiling that his wife had great friends. But something in one of the texts made him frown.
It’s a pity you sacrificed your life…. Melissa wrote.
David didn’t understand. Joan died because of an unexpected complication. But something in that message seemed odd. As if Melissa had known Joan would die in childbirth. He had to find out more so he scrolled up to the beginning of their conversation.
Most of the messages were about Joan’s pregnancy, how excited she was, how fascinating it was, how her baby would be the best, most beautiful in the world. But after several months, the texts took a turn.
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The doctors said something scary, Joan sent.
What? What’s going on? Are you okay? Melissa asked her, concern evident in her text.
They said I have high blood pressure and could develop pre-eclampsia further on. The doctor said I should terminate the pregnancy.
No! Honey, that’s horrible. But what if you die? What did David say? Melissa inquired.
He wasn’t with me. I haven’t told him. He wants a child so bad. We’ve been trying for ten years, Melissa. I can’t abort this baby. It’s his dream to be a father, Joan countered.
Joan, you could die! He wouldn’t want that. He loves you!
I know, Mel. But it’s our baby. I love him or her. I’m going to risk it, his wife said.
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David couldn’t believe it. His wife had risked her life despite the doctor’s warnings, to please him. It was true. He had been dying to become a father, and now, he felt ashamed. He hadn’t touched his baby since the hospital.
The rest of the text conversation consisted of Melissa asking Joan if she felt fine. Joan always answered that she felt great but that the physician said there might not be any symptoms. David couldn’t recall if doctors said anything about pre-eclampsia, but he stopped listening when they told him his wife was dead.
“What am I going to do now?” he asked himself, putting down the phone. “Am I going to let my mother raise the baby that Joan sacrificed her life to give me?”
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David broke down in tears, but he didn’t drown in self-pity this time. This time, his tears were a release, a thank you to his late wife for her sacrifice, and a symbol of determination. He was going to be the best father in the world. Their daughter, Georgina Joan Sanders, was going to grow surrounded with tons of love and tales of her amazing mother. He was going to make sure of it.
He grabbed his own phone and dialed his mother. “Mom, bring the baby back. I’m ready now.”
“Oh, thank God!” the older woman breathed, almost starting to cry.
What can we learn from this story?
- Honor the sacrifices your spouse makes. Even if your spouse is still alive, you have to realize all the gifts they do for you daily. You have to be appreciative and grateful to them.
- Go to a therapist when you need it. David couldn’t get out of his grief without help, and he was brave enough to get a therapist instead of drowning in sorrow.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a family who discovered that their grandfather had more money than they expected.
“My Dad didn’t have anything to his name. All he had was that house, and it’s going to take a lot of repairs now that we’re going to inherit it,” Monica’s mother, Martha, explained, but it was more of a complaint. Her father, Charles, died, and they suddenly received a call from his lawyer that they should go in for a will reading in his office in California.
“Mom, don’t complain. We all loved Grandpa Charles,” Monica scolded her mother gently.
“Of course, sweetie. I’m just saying that I wished he had saved his money better. John and I helped him out all the time, but it was never enough,” Martha continued.
Charles lived poorly. His house was a disaster, and he seemed to have sold off most kitchen appliances. At some point, Martha and John thought that he might be into gambling or drinking because he blew every penny they sent and never had enough to repair his home. But it was odd. He didn’t seem like that kind of person.
“But we’re family. And we’re going to go to the will reading and see what it’s about. Uncle John and my cousins have to go too, and I don’t want to hear any more complaints,” Monica continued with an authoritative voice.
“Yes, honey. We’ll go. But you know it will be a waste of time,” Martha griped at her daughter because she honestly didn’t see the point.
John thought the same way when the will-reading day arrived, and he told everyone at the lawyer’s office, “I don’t see why we’re here. We know the house is all Dad had, and it’s more of a nuisance than a boon for us at this point. I wish we could’ve kept it in better shape all these years,” he complained.
“Stop it,” Monica scolded her uncle.
“Dad’s right,” one of her cousins, Lydia, said. “We’re going to have to repair that house and spend thousands of dollars before we can sell it. At least, it’s in a good location, so it might be worth it.”
“Lydia, that’s enough,” Monica said to Lydia, getting mad that her family was being insensitive. “We have to be here and see what Grandpa had to say. It’s not that hard, and we should not complain. We should be sad that he is gone.”
“Monica, we’re all sad,” her other cousin, Greg, chimed in. “But dealing with this stuff when someone just died is so awful. We have to be pragmatic and think ahead. It’s going to be a long battle before we can sell that house.”
“It’s what you do when someone dies. Deal with it,” Monica finished, shushing everyone as the lawyer’s secretary came to usher them into his office for their appointment.
“Thank you for coming, everybody. I’ll be brief and to the point. Charles didn’t draft an extensive will, but please sit down,” the lawyer, Mr. Carlberg, told them as he shuffled some papers around his desk. “Here we go.”
Monica sat, hoping that her mom and uncle wouldn’t start complaining once again. They were acting like children, and she knew it might be part of their grief process. But she was getting tired of it. Grandpa only ever cared about his family, and they were acting awfully.
“To my children and grandchildren, I bequeath my house with all its contents, which is not much. But I have three safety deposit boxes in the bank that I hope will make you understand why I lived the way I did,” the lawyer read and looked at the family.
“Safety deposit boxes?” Martha questioned, not knowing what could be in them.
This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
