My Baby, Your Cure

My name is Wendy Smith. This afternoon, at the door of my mother Viola Smith's bedroom, I found a crumpled payment slip. The numbers on the bill made my fingertips go numb—1.2 million dollars, paid to the obstetrics department of a private hospital in City A, with the item listed as "Premium Fetal Preservation Package." I was carrying my first child, just past six months. Earlier, my mother Viola Smith said she had arranged the best fetal preservation service for me, and I thought it meant routine prenatal care. 1.2 million—far beyond the bounds of ordinary care. Clutching the bill, my heart pounded as if it might burst through my chest. I quietly pushed the door open a crack. Viola was on the phone, her voice low, but I caught every single word. "Dr. Hemsworth, don't worry. I've already transferred the money." "As long as we can ensure the fetus's bone marrow matches Christopher's, I'm willing to increase the subsequent fees." "I will keep a close watch on Wendy. She must not find out." Christopher Smith is my younger brother. He suffers from severe aplastic anemia and needs a bone marrow transplant to survive. My mind buzzed violently, as if struck by a heavy hammer. It turns out the 1.2 million prenatal care package was never truly meant for me or the baby. It was intended to use the bone marrow of the child in my womb to save Christopher. I instinctively reached toward my lower abdomen. The little one inside seemed to sense my emotions and suddenly began to move violently. It wasn't the usual gentle kicking; it was a desperate, frantic twisting. A sharp pain bent me double, sweat breaking cold on my forehead. "What's wrong?" Viola hung up the phone, opened the door, and when she saw me, a flicker of panic flashed in her eyes before she returned to her usual cold indifference. "The baby... the baby is moving very violently." I clutched my belly, my voice trembling. Viola furrowed her brow, reached out to touch my belly, and her expression suddenly changed. "There's bleeding!" She pointed at my pants, her voice urgent but without a trace of panic. "Get to the hospital right away!" On the way to the hospital, I sat in the back seat, feeling the pain in my lower abdomen intensify, the bleeding growing heavier by the minute. I knew the child was protesting. At the hospital, after an emergency examination, the doctor spoke to Viola with a grave expression: "The situation is critical. The pregnant woman is experiencing severe hemorrhaging, and the fetus shows signs of hypoxia. Surgery must be performed immediately. There are two options now: save the mother or save the fetus." My heart tightened, hoping that Viola would choose to protect me. After all, I am her daughter. But Viola didn't hesitate and blurted out, "Protect the fetus! It must be fetus!" The doctor was stunned, instinctively glancing at me. I lay on the hospital bed, my whole body icy cold. It turned out that in her eyes, I was worth less than an unborn child. That child was nothing more than a tool to save Christopher. "No!" I shouted with all my strength, "I am the child's mother; I choose to protect myself!" Viola turned her head, her eyes like a poisoned blade: "Wendy, how dare you! Christopher is still waiting for bone marrow to survive. This child cannot be harmed!" "He is my child! Not Christopher's life-saving tool!" I sobbed, protesting. "Your life was given by me; your child should contribute to my home too!" Viola said harshly, ignoring my pleas. The doctor stood between us, torn: "Mrs. Smith, this violates medical ethics. The pregnant woman's safety is equally important..." "Ethics? What ethics can value more than my son's life!" Viola cut the doctor off, pulling a card from her bag. "I'll add another 500,000 dollars. You must protect the fetus!" The doctor's face darkened. "Mrs. Smith, please calm down. The surgical plan must honor the pregnant woman's wishes, and under the current circumstances, protecting the pregnant woman is more likely to succeed... " "I don't care!" Viola slammed the table fiercely. "Today, you must save the fetus! Otherwise, I will lodge a formal complaint against your hospital!" The atmosphere in the ward immediately plunged into a chilling silence. I stared at Viola's contorted face and, for the first time, felt how unfamiliar she seemed to me. This is my mother. For her son, she is willing to sacrifice both her daughter and her unborn grandchild. The pain in my lower abdomen intensified, and I felt my consciousness slipping away, little by little. The baby was still moving, as if pleading for help from me. I couldn't let anyone hurt him. Nor could I let others hurt me.