I Went to Pick Up My Wife and Newborn Twins from the Hospital — I Found Only the Babies and a Note

When I arrived at the hospital to bring home my wife and newborn twins, I was met with heartbreak: Suzie was gone, leaving only a cryptic note. As I juggled caring for the babies and unraveling the truth, I discovered the dark secrets that tore my family apart.

As I drove to the hospital, the balloons bobbed beside me in the passenger seat. My smile was unstoppable. Today, I was bringing home my girls!

A man driving a car | Source: Midjourney

A man driving a car | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t wait to see Suzie’s face light up when she saw the nursery, the dinner I’d cooked, the photos I’d framed for the mantle. She deserved joy after nine long months of back pain, morning sickness, and an endless carousel of my overbearing mother’s opinions.

It was the culmination of every dream I’d had for us.

I waved to the nurses at the station as I hurried to Suzie’s room. But when I pushed through the door, I froze in surprise.

A man holding balloons | Source: Midjourney

A man holding balloons | Source: Midjourney

My daughters were sleeping in their bassinets, but Suzie was gone. I thought she might have stepped out for fresh air, but then I saw the note. I tore it open, my hands trembling.

“Goodbye. Take care of them. Ask your mother WHY she did this to me.”

The world blurred as I reread it. And reread it. The words didn’t shift, didn’t morph into something less terrible. A coldness prickled along my skin, freezing me in place.

A man reading a note | Source: Midjourney

A man reading a note | Source: Midjourney

What the hell did she mean? Why would she… no. This couldn’t be happening. Suzie was happy. She’d been happy. Hadn’t she?

A nurse carrying a clipboard entered the room. “Good morning, sir, here’s the discharge —”

“Where’s my wife?” I interrupted.

The nurse hesitated, biting her lip. “She checked out this morning. She said you knew.”

A nurse holding a clipboard | Source: Pexels

A nurse holding a clipboard | Source: Pexels

“She — where did she go?” I stammered to the nurse, waving the note. “Did she say anything else? Was she upset?”

The nurse frowned. “She seemed fine. Just… quiet. Are you saying you didn’t know?”

I shook my head. “She said nothing… just left me this note.”

I left the hospital in a daze, cradling my daughters, the note crumpled in my fist.

A worried man leaving a hospital | Source: Midjourney

A worried man leaving a hospital | Source: Midjourney

Suzie was gone. My wife, my partner, the woman I’d thought I knew, had vanished without a word of warning. All I had were two tiny girls, my shattered plans, and that ominous message.

When I pulled into the driveway, my mom, Mandy, was waiting on the porch, beaming and holding a casserole dish. The scent of cheesy potatoes wafted toward me, but it did nothing to soothe the storm brewing inside.

“Oh, let me see my grandbabies!” she exclaimed, setting the dish aside and rushing toward me. “They’re beautiful, Ben, absolutely beautiful.”

An excited woman | Source: Midjourney

An excited woman | Source: Midjourney

I stepped back, holding the car seat protectively. “Not yet, Mom.”

Her face faltered, confusion knitting her brow. “What’s wrong?”

I shoved the note in her direction. “This is what’s wrong! What did you do to Suzie?”

Her smile vanished, and she took the note with shaking fingers. Her pale blue eyes scanned the words, and for a moment, she looked like she might faint.

A woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney

A woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney

“Ben, I don’t know what this is about,” Mom replied. “She’s… she’s always been emotional. Maybe she —”

“Don’t lie to me!” The words erupted, my voice echoing off the porch walls. “You’ve never liked her. You’ve always found ways to undermine her, criticize her —”

“I’ve only ever tried to help!” Her voice broke, tears spilling over her cheeks.

I turned away, my gut churning. I couldn’t trust her words anymore. Whatever had happened between them had driven Suzie to leave. And now I was left to pick up the pieces.

A man carrying twin babies into a house | Source: Midjourney

A man carrying twin babies into a house | Source: Midjourney

That night, after settling Callie and Jessica in their cribs, I sat at the kitchen table with the note in one hand and a whiskey in the other. My mother’s protests rang in my ears, but I couldn’t let them drown out the question looping in my mind: What did you do, Mom?

I thought back to our family gatherings, and the small barbs my mother would throw Suzie’s way. Suzie had laughed them off, but I could see now, too late, how they must have cut her.

I started digging, both literally and metaphorically.

A man searching through a closet | Source: Midjourney

A man searching through a closet | Source: Midjourney

My sorrow and longing for my missing wife deepened as I looked through her things. I found her jewelry box in the closet and set it aside, then noticed a slip of paper peeking out beneath the lid.

When I opened it, I found a letter to Suzie in my mother’s handwriting. My heart pounded as I read:

“Suzie, you’ll never be good enough for my son. You’ve trapped him with this pregnancy, but don’t think for a second you can fool me. If you care about them, you’ll leave before you ruin their lives.”

A man reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

A man reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

My hand shook as I dropped the letter. This was it. This was why she’d left. My mother had been tearing her down behind my back. I replayed every interaction, every moment I’d dismissed as harmless. How blind had I been?

It was almost midnight, but I didn’t care. I went to the guest room and banged on the door until Mom opened it.

“How could you?” I waved the letter in her face. “All this time, I thought you were just being overbearing, but no, you’ve been bullying Suzie for years, haven’t you?”

An angry man holding a letter | Source: Midjourney

An angry man holding a letter | Source: Midjourney

Her face paled as she scanned the letter. “Ben, listen to me —”

“No!” I cut her off. “You listen to me. Suzie left because of you. Because you made her feel worthless. And now she’s gone, and I’m here trying to raise two babies on my own.”

“I only wanted to protect you,” she whispered. “She wasn’t good enough —”

“She’s the mother of my children! You don’t get to decide who’s good enough for me or them. You’re done here, Mom. Pack your things. Get out.”

A man pointing | Source: Midjourney

A man pointing | Source: Midjourney

Her tears fell freely now. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” I said, cold as steel.

She opened her mouth to argue, but stopped. The look in my eyes must have told her I wasn’t bluffing. She left an hour later, her car disappearing down the street.

The next weeks were hell.

A man with his head in his hands | Source: Midjourney

A man with his head in his hands | Source: Midjourney

Between sleepless nights, dirty diapers, and endless crying (sometimes the babies, sometimes me) I barely had time to think.

But every quiet moment brought Suzie back to my mind. I contacted her friends and family, hoping for any hint of where she might be. None of them had heard from her. But one, her college friend Sara, hesitated before speaking.

“She talked about feeling… trapped,” Sara admitted over the phone. “Not by you, Ben, but by everything. The pregnancy, your mom. She told me once that Mandy said the twins would be better off without her.”

A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney

A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney

The knife twisted deeper. “Why didn’t she tell me my mom was saying these things to her?”

“She was scared, Ben. She thought Mandy might turn you against her. I told her to talk to you, but…” Sara’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I should’ve pushed harder.”

“Do you think she’s okay?”

“I hope so,” Sara said quietly. “Suzie’s stronger than she thinks. But Ben… keep looking for her.”

Weeks turned into months.

A man rocking a baby | Source: Midjourney

A man rocking a baby | Source: Midjourney

One afternoon, while Callie and Jessica napped, my phone buzzed. It was a text from an unlisted number.

When I opened it, my breath caught. It was a photo of Suzie, holding the twins at the hospital, her face pale but serene. Beneath it was a message:

“I wish I was the type of mother they deserve. I hope you forgive me.”

I called the number immediately, but it didn’t go through.

A man making a phone call | Source: Midjourney

A man making a phone call | Source: Midjourney

I texted back, but my messages didn’t go through either. It was like shouting into a void. But the photo reignited my determination. Suzie was out there. She was alive and at least a part of her still longed for us, even though she was clearly still in a bad place. I’d never give up on her.

A year passed with no leads or clues to Suzie’s whereabouts. The twins’ first birthday was bittersweet. I’d poured everything into raising them, but the ache for Suzie never left.

That evening, as the girls played in the living room, there was a knock at the door.

A home entrance interior | Source: Pexels

A home entrance interior | Source: Pexels

I thought I was dreaming at first. Suzie stood there, clutching a small gift bag, her eyes brimming with tears. She looked healthier, her cheeks were fuller, and her posture was more confident. But the sadness was still there, hovering behind her smile.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I didn’t think. I pulled her into my arms, holding her as tightly as I dared. She sobbed into my shoulder, and for the first time in a year, I felt whole.

A man hugging a woman | Source: Midjourney

A man hugging a woman | Source: Midjourney

Over the following weeks, Suzie told me how the postpartum depression, my mom’s cruel words, and her feelings of inadequacy had overwhelmed her.

She’d left to protect the twins and to escape the spiral of self-loathing and despair. Therapy had helped her rebuild, one painstaking step at a time.

“I didn’t want to leave,” she said one night, sitting on the nursery floor as the girls slept. “But I didn’t know how to stay.”

A woman sitting on a nursery floor | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a nursery floor | Source: Midjourney

I took her hand. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

And we did. It wasn’t easy — healing never is. But love, resilience, and the shared joy of watching Callie and Jessica grow were enough to rebuild what we’d almost lost.

Christopher Reeve’s son, adopted by neighbors, wows with his striking resemblance to his late father

The humble reporter who turned into a superhero marked everyone’s childhood and the name of Christopher Reeve will always come to mind whenever we hear the name Superman.

Reeve achieved the unachievable. He made whole generations fall in love with the character he played. Unfortunately, this great man who could brag with his looks suffered serious injuries during a horse riding accident and spent the rest of his days wheelchair bound. His paralysis, however, didn’t stop him from continuing doing what he did best; being an actor, writer, and a philanthropist.

His fans and family always stood by his side and they were the reason why he never lost hope that his condition may improve one day. Sadly, he passed away in 2004, but his three children are there to continue his legacy. Reeve had son Matthew and daughter Alexandra with his wife Gae Exton, and youngest son Will with his second wife, Dana Reeve. Today, all three run their parents’ foundation, Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation.

This organization’s goal is to help those living with paralysis, and they are very successful at what they do. Will Reeve, who’s 30 now, gathers the attention of the public not only because he continues his parents’ work, but also because of the staggering resemblance to his late father.

When Christopher lost the ability to walk and breath on his own, little Will was only a toddler. In an interview with the People he recalls how he and his dad were very close and did lots of fun things together. Christopher even taught him how to ride a bike by giving him instructions and being extremely supportive. When he lost his real life hero, Will was 11.

Just 10 months after his death, Christopher’s wife and caregiver Dana was diagnosed with lung cancer. She passed away two years later, making Will lose both his parents. At the time, he was 13 years old and moved in with the family’s neighbors, Ralph and Ann Pucci, whom Dana trusted to raise him right.

Will once praised the family who adopted him, saying, “The Puccis are…lifesavers. They are the very best people. […] They are the reason that I was able to emerge from the darkest period of my life – relatively unscathed.

“They took me in, and they loved me, not even like a son, they loved me, and do love me, as a son. The Puccis are my family and they always will be. […] When I say ‘I’m going home’ – it’s their house,” he said.

This young man grew up to his parents’ expectations. He is currently a correspondent for Good Morning America, and has also contributed to ESPN’s SportsCenter and MSG Network, and continues being inspiration for many other young men.

He, however, never puts the foundation on the side and believes that by raising money for helping others, he’s honoring his mom and dad. He told Today: “Their passion for everything is what made them so special. They deeply cared about making a difference in the world in any context. It was a really special experience to grow up in a house with them setting that example. I try to carry on their legacy every day by just doing what I was taught.”

During an interview with People in 2016, Will opened up about his amazing childhood, which he considered a “totally normal” one.

“They were the people who told me to turn off the TV, to eat my broccoli, to go to bed,” he recalled lovingly. “I understand that not every child experiences going to the grocery store and seeing their dad on the magazine at the checkout aisle, but … it was a totally normal childhood.”

When told that he looks like his father a lot, this young man says, “My parents were beautiful people on the inside, so if I can resemble them that way, I certainly appreciate the comparison.”

Despite the loss he suffered, Will didn’t let darkness fill in his life. Instead, the memory of his parents served as a guidance for him to turn into a respected individual.

In a Daily Mail article, Will wrote, “There’s something my father used to say and which I use frequently today to not only honor his legacy, but to imbue a new generation with his timeless spirit: ‘A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.’”

People once listed Christopher Reeve on their cover as one of the 25 most intriguing people, and Will is happy he could now share his story about Superman with the magazine. Take a look at the video below to learn more of Will’s life and the foundation he now runs.

In April 2023, he shared that he’s dating a woman named Amanda Dubin. As per her LinkedIn profile, Dubin is an event planner and specializes in event planning and production. She currently works at a company called Victoria Dubin Events based in New York City.

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