Seven Months Pregnant, Then My Baby Vanished

Seven months pregnant, I dozed off on the ride home after my prenatal checkup.

When I woke up, the baby inside me was gone.

I lost it completely. But my husband just laughed, his face full of that indulgent warmth. Still half asleep? You were never pregnant, babe. What baby?

I thought he was joking. I turned around and rushed back to the hospital.

The nurse told me I'd come in for a general physical, not a prenatal exam.

The OB-GYN shook her head too, said she'd never seen me before.

Even my own mother, eyes rimmed red, tried to talk me down. "Sweetheart, do you think maybe the stress of trying to conceive has been too much? Maybe we should see a psychiatrist."

But two hours ago, I'd seen that tiny life on the ultrasound screen with my own eyes.

How could it just vanish, like some kind of magic trick?

I refused to accept it. I called the police, demanded surveillance footage, dug through clinic records.

There wasn't a single trace that I'd ever been pregnant or had a prenatal exam.

Everyone said something was wrong with my mind. In a daze, I lost my footing on the rooftop and fell.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the checkup.

"Selina Summers, get up! You've got your prenatal appointment today. Can't be late."

Burton Weiss's voice drifted through the bedroom door, gentle as always.

I blinked awake, groggy, and instinctively reached for my belly.

I froze for two seconds. Then I shot upright and yanked up my pajama top.

Round. Full. The little one inside must have felt the jolt, because she kicked me.

My eyes burned instantly.

In my last life, it was today. Burton had driven me to the women's clinic for my checkup. Afterward, I'd gotten drowsy and napped in the passenger seat.

When I opened my eyes again, my belly was flat. The baby was gone.

My husband said I'd never been pregnant. The nurse said I'd come in for a routine physical. Even my mother said I'd been so anxious about conceiving that I'd hallucinated the whole thing.

I wouldn't accept it. I screamed and raged through the hospital until security hauled me off to a psychiatric ward.

Right up until the moment I fell from that rooftop, I still didn't understand.

How could a baby who had existed for seven real months just vanish into thin air?

They all said I'd imagined her.

But right now, she was right here inside me.

I pressed my palm to my belly, and the tears spilled over.

"Hey, what's wrong? Bad dream?"

Burton leaned halfway through the doorway. When he saw my red-rimmed eyes, he paused.

I looked at him, my emotions a tangled wreck.

In my last life, he'd been exactly like this. Warm. Attentive. The best husband in the world.

But after the baby disappeared, he'd insisted, without a shred of doubt, that I had never been pregnant. He'd even followed the doctor's recommendation and committed me to a psychiatric facility.

In this life, I didn't know if I could still trust him.

But no matter what, until I uncovered the truth, I couldn't tip anyone off.

"It's nothing. Just didn't sleep well." I forced the corners of my mouth up. "I don't feel like going out today. Let's reschedule the checkup."

Burton blinked, then came over and pressed his hand to my forehead. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Just tired."

"Alright, I'll call the clinic and push it to three days from now." He glanced down at his phone. "Wednesday works anyway. The same specialist will be on duty."

I stared at his profile, my mind in chaos.

This time around, if I skipped the appointment and stayed home, could I keep the baby safe?

But how long could I hide?

I had to figure out what really happened in my last life.

Why every single person had sworn, without hesitation, that I was never pregnant.

I closed my eyes and pressed my palm flat against my belly, feeling the small life stirring inside.

She wasn't a hallucination.

I had three days to find the truth.

Day one turned up nothing.

I took photos of every prenatal checkup report I'd had since the beginning of my pregnancy and uploaded them all to cloud storage.

I remembered what had happened in my last life. After the baby disappeared, I'd gone home looking for those reports.

Every single one was gone.

Even the hospital's surveillance footage had no record of me.

Still not satisfied, I went to a photography studio and booked a full maternity photoshoot.

During the session, I had them film plenty of behind-the-scenes footage too, clearly capturing me and my very pregnant belly from every angle.

Only then did I feel a sliver of calm.

Next, I called my mom.

"Mom, I'm craving your sweet and sour ribs."

"Sure, I'll make a batch and send them over. A pregnant woman's got to eat well."

"Mom, do you remember how far along I am?"

"Seven months! Honestly, sweetheart, you think your own mother would forget?"

I recorded the entire conversation.

In my last life, my mother had told the police, to their faces, that I'd never been pregnant.

This time, no matter what happened, these recordings couldn't just vanish into thin air. Right?

The scheduled checkup time arrived.

Burton went to stand in line to pay, and I sat on a bench in the hallway waiting for him.

A young woman in a pink nurse's uniform walked over. She glanced at my belly and smiled.

"Belly's sitting so high and pointy. I'd bet good money it's a boy."

Burton had just finished paying and came back in time to catch her words. He jumped right in.

"Boy or girl, doesn't matter. If it's a boy, we'll protect Mommy together. If it's a girl, I'll protect both my ladies."

The nurse covered her mouth and laughed. "Oh my, your husband is such a sweetheart."

I couldn't laugh. I remembered this nurse.

In my last life, she'd said the exact same thing. Belly's so pointy, probably a boy.

But after the baby vanished and I came back to the hospital to find her, she'd looked at me with wide, innocent eyes.

"Ma'am, are you sure you're not mistaken? You came in for a general physical, not a prenatal checkup."

This time, I quietly opened my phone and recorded what she'd just said.

The exam room was on the third floor. The doctor performing my ultrasound was a middle-aged woman in glasses, early forties, with a calm, gentle demeanor.

In my last life, she'd been the one who examined me too.

Later, after the baby was gone, I'd stormed into the hospital to confront her. She'd stared at me, utterly baffled.

"Ma'am, I've never seen you before. Are you sure you have the right person?"

But I remembered perfectly. She was the one who'd done my checkup.

I stared at her face now. She was bent over the equipment, adjusting the settings, completely unaware of my expression.

"All right, lie down and lift your shirt."

I lay back. The probe glided across my skin, and a familiar little silhouette appeared on the screen.

"Looking good," the doctor said. "Head circumference is running slightly large. Watch your diet and make sure the baby doesn't get too big."

I stared at the screen, my eyes stinging with tears.

"Doctor, could I take a photo with you?"

She blinked, surprised. I rushed to explain. "First-time mom. I want to document everything."

She smiled. "Of course. Come on."

I pulled out my phone, opened the camera, and leaned in beside her.

Click. The photo was taken.

I looked down at the screen. The doctor's face. My face. The ultrasound image glowing behind us. All there, crystal clear.

This time, if any of that happens again, I'd like to see you try to deny it.

When I came out of the exam room, I made a point of finding that nurse again.

"Nurse Lawrence, could we take a picture together?" I held up my phone. "I'm putting together a little prenatal vlog. Something to remember this by."

Virginia Lawrence was more than happy to oblige. "Where's your husband? Have him take a full-length shot of you."

Burton was pulled over, and he snapped several photos of me standing beside Nurse Lawrence.

Every single photo showed my round, swollen belly.

"What's got you so excited today?" Burton asked with a laugh.

I tucked my phone away. "It's my first pregnancy. I want to hold on to every memory."

What I really wanted was to hold on to every piece of evidence.

This time, I had photos. I had videos. I had voice recordings. And I had plenty of witnesses.

I refused to believe anything could go wrong again.

When we left the hospital, Burton helped me into the passenger seat.

"You must be tired. Close your eyes for a bit. I'll wake you when we're home."

I shook my head. "I don't want to go home. I want to go get something to eat."

He blinked, then smiled. "Sure. You're the boss these days."

In my last life, I'd fallen asleep on the drive home from the checkup.

When I woke up, the baby was gone.

This time, I absolutely could not fall asleep. And I needed to be somewhere crowded.

The restaurant was close to the hospital. Twenty minutes and we were there.

But the moment I reached the entrance, my heart sank. Six parties ahead of us.

"Want to try somewhere else?" Burton asked.

"No. This place." I walked my pregnant belly over to the waiting area and sat down.

Burton gave a helpless little laugh and went to the front counter for a number.

The waiting area was packed with people.

A waitress came over carrying a tray. "Ma'am, have a little something to tide you over. Can't let a mama-to-be go hungry."

She handed me a small bag of crackers.

I thanked her, and a sliver of relief settled over me.

With this many people watching, nothing could possibly go wrong. Right?

I leaned back in my chair, watching the steady flow of people passing by, and my eyelids started to droop.

I'd barely slept the night before. Now, sitting in the warm waiting area, exhaustion rolled over me in waves.

I fought to keep my eyes open, but everything blurred together.

...

"Selina?" Someone shook me.

I jolted awake. My first instinct was to reach for my stomach.

Flat. I froze. I touched it again.

Still flat.

I yanked up my sweater. Smooth, flat skin.

"What's wrong?" Burton crouched in front of me, his face full of confusion.

My mouth opened. My voice shook. "The baby's gone..."

"What?"

"The baby is gone!" I jabbed a finger at my own stomach. "My baby. Seven months. Gone!"

Burton stared at me for a second. Then he laughed.

"Selina, did you wake up confused from your nap? When were you ever pregnant?"

I stared at him, wide-eyed, nearly screaming.

"What do you mean I wasn't pregnant? I just had my prenatal checkup!"

Burton's brow creased slightly, concern flickering across his face.

"Sweetheart, we did go to the hospital today, but it wasn't for a prenatal visit. It was a routine physical."

Those words again.

My whole body trembled. I staggered toward the waitress who'd given me the crackers and grabbed her arm.

"You said I was pregnant just now. You gave me crackers so I wouldn't go hungry. You remember, don't you?!"

The waitress flinched. "Ma'am, what are you talking about? We've never offered complimentary snacks here."

I stood frozen. Then I fumbled for my phone with shaking hands and opened my photo gallery.

The pictures I'd taken with the doctor and the nurse were all gone.

I refused to accept it. I opened my social media.

Yesterday, after the maternity photoshoot, I'd posted the behind-the-scenes clips. Dozens of coworkers and friends had liked and commented.

That post was gone.

"That's impossible..." My fingers trembled as I kept scrolling.

Burton walked over and placed his hands gently on my shoulders. "Sweetheart, the stress of trying to conceive has been getting to you. You're having delusions."

I shoved his hands off and ran out of the restaurant.

I had to get back to the hospital. I had to find that doctor. And the nurse.

They had to remember me.

When I burst through the doors, the nurse was taking a pregnant woman's blood pressure. I grabbed her arm. "Nurse Lawrence, do you remember me?"

She flinched, staring at me blankly. "Ma'am, I think you have me confused with someone else."

"How could I have you confused? This morning, you helped me take photos"

She thought for a moment, then shook her head, cutting me off. "I was on the ward all morning. I never came down to outpatient. Are you here for a prenatal checkup?"

I froze.

"Then what about the female doctor who did my ultrasound?"

She flipped through the shift schedule. "Every OB on duty in the outpatient clinic today is male. There's no female doctor."

My head went blank, like a bomb had gone off inside my skull.

A pregnant woman in the waiting area muttered under her breath. "Is something wrong with her?"

"Probably been trying to conceive so long she's lost it. My cousin's wife was the same waythree years of marriage, no baby, and she started imagining she was pregnant..."

"I mean, look at her. Her stomach's completely flat. Pregnant with what?"

I tore into the restroom like a woman possessed, yanked up my shirt in front of the mirror, and stared at my stomach.

Smooth. Flat. As if the last seven months had never happened. As if I had never been pregnant at all.

I leaned against the stall partition and slid down to the floor.

My mind was a void.

No. There had to be something I was missing.

My phone rang. Mom.

I fumbled to answer.

"Sweetie, did you get the ribs I sent?"

I opened my mouth, and a tiny spark of hope flared in my chest. "Mom, do you remember that I'm pregnant?"

Two seconds of silence on the other end. When she spoke, her voice was laced with confusion.

"Pregnant? I thought you and Burton were still trying. You haven't conceived yet, have you?"

My hand began to shake around the phone.

"Mom, I sent you maternity photos just yesterday. Don't you remember?"

Her confusion deepened. "No, honey. The only thing you've sent me recently was a phone call saying you were craving ribs. That's it."

I opened our text thread. Every photo in the conversation had vanished.

Her voice turned worried. "Sweetie, have you been overworking yourself? Don't put so much pressure on yourself. A baby will come when the time is right..."

I sat on the bathroom floor, cold seeping through every inch of me.

Was this life going to be the same? Was I going to fall into the same trap all over again, with no way out?

No. I refused to sit here and wait for it to happen.

I splashed water on my face and walked out of the restroom. A commotion hit my ears immediately.

"That's the womanthe one who's been causing a scene..."

"Someone call the police. She's clearly not right in the head..."

I followed the voices.

A crowd had gathered outside the OB clinic entrance. In the middle of it, Burton was explaining something to a nurse. The moment he saw me, he rushed over.

"Selina, where did you go? I've been looking everywhere for you."

I looked at him.

This man. My husband of five years. Always gentle. Always attentive.

Right now, his eyes were full of worry and concern.

I held his gaze. "Burton, do you really not remember me being pregnant? The checkups?"

He sighed and reached for my hand.

"Honey, let's just go home. You need to rest. Okay?"

"Answer me!"

He paused. Something shifted behind his eyes.

"Selina, you were never pregnant."

I closed my eyes. Of course.

"Ma'am, please stop disrupting the hospital." Two security guards approached. "We've received complaints that you've been harassing medical staff in the OB clinic. We're going to have to ask you to cooperate and leave the premises."

I took a step back.

People crowded around me, staring, whispering among themselves.

"What a shame. Pretty girl, but something's clearly wrong upstairs..."

"I've seen this before. They always end up in a psych ward..."

"Her poor husband..."

Burton stepped forward and addressed the security guard. "I'm sorry. My wife's been under a lot of stress lately. I'll take her home right away."

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the exit.

I followed mechanically, my mind blank.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the wall calendar hanging in the outpatient lobby.

I stopped dead in my tracks, seized a passing nurse by the arm, and asked in a trembling voice, "The date on that calendaris it accurate?"

The nurse flinched at my grip but answered anyway. "Of course it is. Why?"

So that's it.

I finally understood why my baby was gone without a single trace left behind.