Part 1The Blood Type Blunder

After a natural birth, the doctor was concerned about the baby having hemolytic disease. They paid special attention to his blood type.

My mother-in-law, Eleanor, exploded. “Your father-in-law, your husband, and you are all O-negative! How could you give birth to an A-positive child?” Her voice rose to a shriek. “You hussy! Have you been seeing someone else?”

My husband, Mark, beat me, punching and kicking, demanding to know who the other man was. But I had never done anything wrong; I refused to confess to something I was innocent of.

My baby and I burned alive in a raging inferno.

Mark collected a hefty insurance payout, remarried, and lived a life of luxury with his parents. Meanwhile, the relentless gossip from our neighbors caused my own father to suffer a heart attack and be hospitalized.

My mother, tending to Dad, uncovered the truth: Mark was actually A-positive! And with my father-in-law, Thomas, being O-negative, it was Eleanor who had been unfaithful!

My parents, consumed by rage, took the paternity report to confront Mark’s family. But they were pushed from the 22nd floor, both dying instantly!

Standing in line at the Gates of Oblivion, seething with anger, I somehow reincarnated!

It was the day of Leo’s birth. I felt as if every bone in my body was shattered from the agony. I was like a drowned rat, pulled from a muddy lake. The day and night of torture finally ended, and I was wheeled out of the delivery room into a recovery ward.

Mark’s face was grim, his voice simmering with irritation. “Couldn’t you have just pulled the curtain when they gave you that Pitocin shot? Male nurses and doctors kept coming and going! You were exposed to everyone, completely disregarding my trauma!”

As my mind cleared, I looked around. I was certain. I had been reborn.

Eleanor, always sharp-tongued and critical, chimed in. “Exactly! Who gives birth as dramatically as you? Back in our day, we had our babies at home and were back doing chores the next day. You’re nothing but trouble! You hired a postpartum nurse for six thousand bucks, and you don’t even earn money! You bought so much formula, too! You don’t know the value of a dollar until you run a household! And you spread your legs and let all those men look! You’ve disgraced the Johnson name!”

I forced myself to prop up my weak body. “Mark, give me my phone back. I need to call my parents. I’m going home for my postpartum recovery.”

“Hmph, finally, you’re being sensible. It’s settled then. If I give you your phone, you have to get money from your parents to go home for your recovery. Otherwise, our family won’t be able to hold our heads up.” Mark gloated, a smug look on his face. “Seeing as you delivered a son, I’ll tolerate you a bit longer. Just make sure your parents send you back with some of their homemade treats for nourishment!”

Whether in my past life or this one, he remained utterly shameless. The day I gave birth, his true colors emerged. All his pretense of being a devoted husband vanished.

The family in the next bed couldn’t stand it. “To be fair, your family just has a twisted mindset!” the woman’s husband spoke up. “Your wife just went through hell to give birth, and you all were playing cards outside the delivery room door! I’ve never seen a family treat their daughter-in-law so disrespectfully.” He shook his head. “It’s like you have a throne to inherit! When a human life is at stake, what does gender matter? Whoever ensures the mother and baby are safe, they’re the good doctors and nurses!”

The woman in the bed opposite me, a fierce glint in her eye, also chimed in, outraged. “Exactly! You, as a mother-in-law, instead of going home to cook something nice for your daughter-in-law, you’re sitting there discussing…” She trailed off, not finishing her sentence, but I felt an unsettling wave of nausea wash over me.

Eleanor, embarrassed, scoffed, “Who hasn’t given birth? She’s just being dramatic!”

I scanned the room. “Where’s the postpartum nurse I hired?”

Mark stammered, avoiding my gaze, pretending not to know. His shifty-eyed look infuriated me. In my previous life, Eleanor had goaded him into firing the nurse. She’d then feigned kindness, offering to take care of me herself. But she’d secretly given the organic eggs my mother had specially prepared for me to my sister-in-law for her pregnancy. And my Goldie, my Golden Retriever, my beloved companion of seven years? She’d had him slaughtered, cooked into soup, and presented to me. She’d claimed the dog had germs and would prevent her precious grandson from growing big. They’d feasted on my Goldie.

And that wasn’t even the end of it. Once she learned I’d given birth to an A-positive child, she’d immediately blown up, instigating Mark to divorce me.

My entire postpartum recovery had been a nightmare. The house was freezing, and they wouldn’t even let me turn on the heating. My newborn cried uncontrollably, shivering under the blankets. To torture me further, they even cut the power during the day. I had no hot water for formula. They deliberately made it so difficult that my breast milk dried up. I tried to call my parents for help, but they kept me under strict control, even snatching my phone away.

This time, I had to get my phone and send out a cry for help before the doctor came for rounds!

“Hurry up! I need to post a picture of the baby on social media!”

Mark wasn’t yet thinking of confiscating my phone. He mumbled, “My mom’s right. Giving birth is just something women do. Back then, they had nothing, but they could still recover eating just corn cakes.”