My husband gave away our newborn son to repay a war buddy who once saved his life. He lied to me, saying our child had died. Years later, I accidentally learned our son was alive. When I confronted my husband, he simply said, “I owed him this.” I tried to find our child, but my husband blocked every attempt. Consumed by grief and regret over losing my son, I eventually died of a broken heart. Incredibly, I woke up again. Back on the day I gave birth. “You like giving away children? Then you can die childless!” ***** A sharp pain jolted me awake. My body reacted before my mind could catch up, and I cried out. I tried to move, but my swollen belly pinned me down. “What’s wrong? Is it time?” a voice asked urgently. The door swung open as a man strode in, carrying two lunch boxes in one hand. He was tall and muscular, with striking features, sharp eyebrows and piercing eyes. His military uniform exuded an air of authority. Every inch of him radiated the vigor of youth. This was my husband, Tyler Davenport. But how had he become so young? Confused, I stared at Tyler, unable to look away. Before I could make sense of it, he was at my bedside, his face etched with worry and urgency. In one swift motion, he scooped me up from the bed. The fresh scent of soap filled my nostrils as his concerned voice, tinged with severity, reached my ears. “Your water broke and you didn’t call anyone? Don’t you know how dangerous that is? You could’ve risked both your lives!” As we passed through the living room, my eyes caught the calendar on the wall. My heart raced as my fingers unconsciously gripped the rough fabric. I had been reborn, back to the day I gave birth. In my past life, I had labored for over two hours to bring this child into the world. Tyler immediately gave the baby to his war buddy. He lied to me, saying our child was too weak and didn’t survive. I believed him, blaming myself for being unable to keep our baby alive. Later, I discovered the truth by chance, but when I tried to get my child back, Tyler blocked me at every turn. When I confronted him, his face was cold, his words matter-of-fact. “George lost his chance to be a father while saving my life. I owe him this child. “He’ll never have another kid, but we can have plenty more. Gwen, forget about that baby. It’s better for everyone if we just pretend it didn’t make it.” “It’s better for everyone?” I scoffed inwardly. “It’s better for you!” That was my child, carried for nine months and born through my pain. It was not some gift to repay his kindness! I had a huge fight with Tyler and set out to find my baby. But Tyler’s influence grew. His power became almost limitless. He always managed to cut off any leads I found. My efforts were in vain. Living with the pain and regret of losing my child, I died of a broken heart before I even hit 45. Then, by some miracle, I got a second chance at life. This time, I swore, no one would take my baby from me! The joy of rebirth overwhelmed me. My heart raced, and my breathing quickened. No, I couldn’t let Tyler be the only one with me when I gave birth. I was due any day now. “Wait,” I said through gritted teeth, fighting the pain. “Send a telegram to my family. Ask my mother to come take care of me. This is my first child. I’m terrified.” I tilted my head back, catching only the sharp line of Tyler’s jaw. He chuckled softly, looking down at me. “It’s harvest season. Your mother probably can’t spare the time. Don’t worry, I’m your husband. I’ll make sure you and the baby are safe.” As he spoke, he gathered the supplies for the delivery. My heart sank. Next door, Samantha Moore heard the commotion. She opened her door and called out, “Is Gwen in labor? Do you need any help?” Samantha was the partner of a high-ranking government official. She was known for her warmth and fairness. We got along well. With her around, it would be harder for Tyler to try anything suspicious. A flicker of hope sparked in my chest. With a trembling voice, I pleaded, “Samantha, could you please come with me to the hospital? It’s my first time having a baby, and I’m so nervous my heart’s about to jump out of my chest.”
Samantha set down the half-finished shoe insole and flashed a warm smile. “Of course! I’ll go with you. You two are first-time parents, so you’re bound to be all over the place. I can help make sure things go smoothly.” Her quick agreement made my anxiety ease a bit. But just as I started to relax, Tyler’s cool voice came from above. He politely declined Samantha’s offer with well-reasoned arguments. “Samantha, Ryan is still little. He needs you around. What would he do if you went to the hospital? Besides, it’s not good for kids to spend too much time in a place with so many people coming and going.” Ryan was Samantha’s youngest, just two years old and full of energy. Tyler’s words struck a chord with her. As a mother, her children always came first. Samantha began to waver. Sensing this, Tyler pressed his advantage, determined to put her mind at ease. He smiled, “I’ve already checked out the hospital. I know the place inside and out. Plus, I’m a grown man – I can take care of my wife and kid. Don’t worry about a thing, Samantha.” Samantha nodded repeatedly, clearly convinced. My heart, which had been half-settled, now raced with renewed anxiety. Spurred by a wave of pain, I reached for Samantha’s hand, my voice pleading. “Samantha, I’m in so much pain and I’m scared. Could you please come with me to the hospital?” I repeatedly expressed my fears. It was infuriating that no one knew about Tyler’s plan, and even if I said it now, no one would believe me. After all, how could a normal person secretly give away his child without telling his wife? In my past life, I’d been brainwashed into thinking the kid was dead. If I hadn’t stumbled across that money transfer, I’d never have known how “selfless” and “noble” my husband was, giving away his own child. I was in so much pain that I was sweating profusely, my lips pale. I looked pitiful. Samantha’s face showed sympathy, and she was about to agree. “Alright, I guess I could…” At that moment, a child’s loud cry rang out from Samantha’s house. A boy, about seven or eight years old, ran out calling for help. “Mom! The baby pooped all over himself and the bed. It stinks!” Samantha’s face fell, her priorities instantly shifting. She gave an embarrassed smile. “Oh Gwen, I’m so sorry. There’s always something going on at home. I can’t get away right now, but I promise I’ll visit you at the hospital after you give birth. With Tyler by your side, I’m not worried about you at all.” If only she knew that Tyler was exactly why I was worried! The baby’s cries grew louder. Samantha hurried back inside to comfort the child. Tyler carefully adjusted his hold on me, still wearing that “I’ve got everything under control” expression. “Don’t worry, I’m here for you,” he said. The pain was too much for me to speak. I just rolled my eyes at him from the safety of his arms. Then, wrapping my arms around his neck, I sank my teeth into the soft flesh of his throat. “Ouch…” Tyler hissed through his teeth. I felt a surge of satisfaction hearing him in pain. Why should I be the only one suffering? This baby was half his doing, after all. My small act of revenge did little to lift the heaviness in my heart. A sense of helpless dread was threatening to overwhelm me, knowing the dangers that lay ahead but being powerless to avoid them. But I couldn’t just accept my fate. Surely, I wasn’t given this second chance just to repeat the mistakes of my past life! I released Tyler’s neck and leaned against his shoulder, gathering my strength. With Samantha out of the picture, the hospital was my last hope. We made our way down the stairs and through the residential complex. A car was already waiting for us at the main gate. Tyler carried me steadily, his grip never faltering. People stared as we passed, their eyes a mix of envy and admiration. “Mr. Davenport is so capable and thoughtful,” I overheard someone say. “I heard he took two weeks off work to take care of Gwen. Why can’t my husband be more like him?” “Humph, why does Gwen get such special treatment?” someone chimed in. “I remember when I went into labor, I was still out there husking corn. I gave birth right then and there. And when I went home, I had to carry the baby and half a basket of corn on my back!” In my past life, I thought they were just jealous, and I felt so lucky. Now, their words drip with irony. Tyler, the man everyone saw as the perfect husband, was planning to steal my baby out of some twisted sense of obligation. When I confronted him, he had the nerve to suggest I should have more children. In my previous life, I trusted Tyler completely. I never realized how dangerous it was to give birth without family by my side. This time around, I was still alone and helpless. The only difference was that now I knew what he was planning.
In the car, Tyler held me close, whispering words of comfort while repeatedly urging the driver to go faster. His face was a mask of concern as if he’d gladly take my place if he could. The perfect picture of a devoted husband. I closed my eyes to rest with a faint, sardonic smile. “Tyler,” I wondered, “is all this fuss really about my safety and the baby’s? Or are you just worried that if something goes wrong with the child, you won’t be able to repay your war buddy’s life-saving favor? Every day this baby isn’t handed over is another day of torment for your conscience, isn’t it?” The rest of the journey passed in silence. At the hospital, I was rushed into the delivery room. The harsh glare of the fluorescent lights made my eyes ache. Drawing on my experience from a past life, I focused on controlling my breathing and pushing rhythm. I lost track of time as the pain washed over me. Suddenly, I felt a release, as if something had slipped away from my body. “Waaah!” The baby’s clear cry rang out once, then abruptly stopped. “Why isn’t my baby crying?” I thought and struggled to sit up, catching only a glimpse of a nurse hurrying away. “My baby! Where are you taking my child?” I cried out. I tried to follow, but the doctor firmly held me down on the delivery bed. His mask covered most of his face, leaving only his eyes visible. They held a familiar look of pity. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but your baby was stillborn. For your own health, you shouldn’t experience extreme emotions right after giving birth. It’s best to let your husband handle the arrangements for the child.” My heart froze and burned with anger. It was clear now – Tyler had bought off the doctor and nurses before I even went into labor. No matter what condition I or the baby were in after birth, they would all stick to the same story. The baby didn’t make it. In my previous life, I’d passed out from exhaustion and believed every word from Tyler and the medical staff. But now, living through this a second time, I saw right through Tyler’s plan. I didn’t believe a single word they said. “Hang on, my little one,” I thought to myself. “Mommy will find you. I promise.” With fury in my eyes, I slapped the doctor’s hand away and demanded, “I heard my baby cry! Where have you taken my child?” The doctor, unfazed by the blow, shook his head with a resigned look. “Several babies were born around the same time as yours. It’s easy to get confused. You’re still young. Once you’ve recovered, you can have more children.” The words and tone were all too familiar. The doctor’s face kept shifting before my eyes. One moment, I was back in military housing, surrounded by gossiping wives. “Gwen, dear, you can always have another baby. But if you lose your marriage, you lose everything.” “Don’t be angry with Mr. Davenport. Giving up the baby hurts him too. That man saved his life, which was a debt that outweighs everything. How can he be at peace if he doesn’t repay it?” Then, it was Tyler’s impatient face. “Gwen, how long are you going to keep this up? George can’t have children anymore because he saved me. I owe him. “It’s only right that I give him a child to care for him in his old age.” I clenched my fists, crumpling the sheets beneath me. It seemed like Tyler was the only person in the world who had it tough. Tyler was tortured by guilt over the debt he owed George for saving his life. That was why he felt compelled to give away his own son to ease his conscience. He was so conflicted, so anguished. And I, as Tyler’s wife, was apparently committing a grave sin. Instead of joyfully handing our child over to George without a second thought, I kept causing trouble, constantly demanding we find and bring our baby home. I was turning our household upside down, driving Tyler to his wit’s end. How utterly unforgivable of me! Those women were quick to advise me to give up on the child. Of course, it was easy for them to preach generosity. It wasn’t their baby at stake. Tyler, that shameless man, had the audacity to unzip his pants and offer to “bless” me with another child. He made it sound so simple. He wouldn’t be the one enduring nine months of pregnancy, so naturally, he could use our baby to repay his debt. All to clear his conscience and earn a reputation for gratitude. How convenient for him. But no one had asked if I was willing. All the resentment, heartache, and frustration from my past and present lives erupted at once. Suddenly, I felt filled with strength. That was my child. No one could take it away! I grabbed the doctor’s collar, using him for support as I sat up. My scream was hoarse with rage. “What gives you the right to say my baby is dead? I want proof! If you’ve got nothing to hide, why won’t you let me see my child?” The doctor’s face turned red as the collar tightened around his neck. A nearby nurse rushed over to pry my fingers loose. The doctor cleared his throat, his voice hoarse from the ordeal. “Ahem! The patient is becoming hysterical. We need a sedative, stat!” He had just managed to break free from the restraints. Rubbing his sore wrists, he croaked out orders to the nurse. The nurse swiftly handed him a syringe and pushed me back down onto the bed. The doctor pressed the plunger, the sharp needle glinting as it moved towards me.
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