09/21/2025
My husband punched my pregnant sister in the stomach—and thank God he did.
The room erupted in screams the moment my husband’s fist connected with my sister’s stomach. Eight months pregnant, she folded in half, crashing backward into the gift table as balloons burst and presents toppled to the floor.
“What is wrong with you?!”
I shrieked, shoving him back while my mother sobbed into the phone with 911, crying, “a/ssault on a pregnant woman.” My dad and brothers pinned my husband against the wall while I dropped to the floor beside my sister, who was clutching her belly, gasping, “Don’t touch it. Hurts too much.”
Her boyfriend was frantically checking for blood, my grandmother clutched her chest, and my aunts were dragging their children outside. The neighbor, a midwife, knelt down to help, but my sister curled tighter, screaming.
And then my husband shouted from across the room, fighting against the men holding him: “LOOK at her stomach where I hit her!”
I froze. There was a... in her belly that wasn’t popping back out. My heart pounded as I pressed my hands against it — and felt edges. Foam. Velcro straps.
“That’s... ,” my husband spat, sweat pouring down his face. “Not a baby. She’s... And she was planning something worse.”
Gasps filled the room. My sister shrieked, clawing at my hands, but it was too late...
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