I Went on a Trip with My Mom and Ended up in the Hospital, Where I Discovered a Terrible Truth That Had Been Hidden from Me My Whole Life — Story of the Day #7

Family was the only thing that mattered, right? At least that was how my parents raised me since early childhood. I was not taught those toxic beliefs that all other relationships were meaningless, that men would definitely break my heart, or that friends would betray me.

Still, family was supposed to come first. My parents were a role model to me. Every day, I saw how they loved and supported each other. That was the kind of family I wanted for myself in the future.

But when you grow up, you start drifting apart from your parents, and I was no exception. After high school, I moved to another city to study, and after graduation, I stayed to build my life there.

I visited my parents only for the holidays, and sometimes it made me very sad that I could not spend more time with them, especially since I was the only child in the family and often thought about how lonely they must have felt.

That’s why I decided to change something. I took a vacation and offered to spend it together with my parents like we used to when I was little. We rented a camper van and traveled to different places, enjoying nature and the scenery.

When I mentioned the idea on the phone, my mom was over the moon with happiness, but my dad didn’t sound as sure.

“I don’t know, Carly. You know my heart is weak, and I’m not sure I can handle such adventures,” he said on the phone.

“Then we can choose another type of vacation, get a hotel, go to the beach,” I said.

“No, no. I’m sitting next to your mom and I see how happy she is and how much she wants you two to take the trip,” he said. “I think you should still go,” he added.

“What about you?” I asked.

“I’m a grown man and I can spend a few days on my own,” he said.

I thought for a moment and offered the only solution that came to mind. “Then I’ll spend half of my vacation in the camper van with mom, and the other part at home with both of you,” I said.

“Sounds great,” he said.

That was how we decided that only my mom and I would go on vacation. I rented the camper van, and mom and I packed our things and hit the road.

The first place we planned to go was a lake in the forest that we often visited when I was little. While we were driving there, I noticed that mom seemed nervous.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Everything’s fine, it’s just…” she hesitated.

“Just what?” I insisted.

“Your father didn’t go on this trip because of his heart, and I started to worry about yours,” she said quietly.

“Mom, I’m taking my medication, I’m fine. Besides, I’m still young,” I said. “So you have nothing to worry about,” I added.

“Yes, yes. You’re right,” she said. “But I’m your mother, so worrying is my job,” she added.

I took her hand and squeezed it. “Everything will be alright,” I said, and she smiled at me.

I inherited a weak heart from my dad, and although it didn’t really stop me from living, I did have to be more careful than others, because any strong stress or strain could be fatal.

When we arrived, it was already getting dark, and I was glad that at least we didn’t have to set up tents.

“It feels good to stretch my legs,” I said as we got out of the camper van.

“You’re telling me,” she said.

“It looks just as beautiful as I remember,” I said.

“Some things never change,” she replied.

After stretching a little, we lit a campfire and made dinner. After eating, we sat by the fire, warming ourselves and sipping cocoa.

“It is a pity dad didn’t come with us,” I said.

“Yes, he would have liked it here,” she said, and I nodded.

Suddenly, her face changed and became more somber. “Carly, I have something to tell you,” she said.

I was already prepared to listen, but then the phone rang, and I pulled it out of my pocket. “It’s work,” I told her and stepped aside to answer.

When I finished the call, I returned to her. “Sorry, they can’t last a day without me,” I said, and she smiled. “So what did you want to say?”

“Oh, nothing important, just that I love you very much,” she said.

“And I love you,” I replied.

The next morning, right after breakfast, we went for a walk to the lake through the woods. Living in the city, I had begun to forget how beautiful nature could be, so I just silently enjoyed it.

It seemed Mom was doing the same. We were almost at the lake when she said, “Careful, the slope here is steep.”

“What?” I turned to look at her because I had not heard the sentence clearly.

“Care—”

At that moment, I slipped and tumbled down, crashing into branches and rocks. The last thing I remembered was how wildly my heart was beating and how I was flying straight into the lake. After that, I felt a strong blow to my head, and everything went dark.

When I regained consciousness, bright light hit my eyes. Everything was blurry for a few seconds until the focus returned and I realized I was in a hospital.

I was alone in the room, connected to machines that beeped endlessly. I slowly got up from the bed, unhooked all the wires from myself, and the machines immediately began to beep loudly.

I went into the hallway to find her. I slightly opened the door, as that was all I had the strength to do. I saw her there, talking to a doctor.

“Are there any other genetic diseases in your family? It’s important so we can register Carly for the transplant waitlist,” he said.

“She inherited heart problems from her father, and there were no diseases in my family. But you should know, I am not Carly’s biological mother. Just please do not tell her, she doesn’t know anything,” Mom said, and I suddenly felt a pain in my chest.

“Do you have any information—” the doctor began to say, but I interrupted him almost unconsciously.

“Mom? What does this all mean?” I asked and felt tears welling up in my eyes.

At that moment, a nurse rushed up to me. “Miss, you were not supposed to get up or disconnect from the machines. Please return to bed,” she said and took me by the arm to lead me back.

I pulled my arm away. “No, I need to know. Mom, what do you mean you are not my biological mother?!” I shouted.

“Carly, please, don’t get upset, your heart—” she said.

I interrupted her. “Do not talk to me about my heart! I want you to answer me!” I shouted.

“Carly, please,” she whispered, and that was the last thing I heard before I lost consciousness again.

When I woke up, the first thing I saw was my dad and my crying mom beside my bed.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Fine,” I snapped. “Don’t you want to explain what’s going on?!”

“Your heart is failing, you need a transplant, they’re preparing everything to find a donor as soon as possible,” Mom said.

“I’m not talking about that! Why did you stay silent about not being my biological mom?!” I yelled.

“We didn’t know how to tell you,” she replied.

“So you decided to lie my whole life?!” I yelled.

“She’s still your mom,” Dad said.

“You had no right to keep that from me. I deserve to know who my real parents are,” I said.

“But I’m your real mom,” she said.

“But that’s not true,” I replied.

“Carly!” Dad exclaimed. “Leave us, please, I want to talk to Carly alone,” he said to Mom. She wiped her tears and left the room.

“How can you say that? Your mom was always there and loved you like her own,” he said.

“Then why didn’t she tell me the truth if she loved me so much?” I asked.

Dad sighed heavily. “Your biological mom left us when you were not even a month old. I barely managed, alone, with a baby in my arms. That was when your mom came to help — she was my neighbor. She helped me out of kindness because she was a good person and loved you as if you were her own,” he said.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I lived my whole life in a lie,” I said.

“You’re right, but can you not be so harsh with us?” Dad asked.

“I need time to process this,” I said.

Then the door to the room slowly opened and Mom stepped in. “May I?” she asked.

“I’m not sure I want to see you,” I said. As soon as I said it, I felt myself losing breath, and my heart felt like it was bursting out of my chest.

The monitors started beeping loudly. A doctor and nurse ran into the room. My vision darkened, my ears rang, and I couldn’t understand what was happening.

The last thing I remembered was hearing him say, “We need to find a donor, immediately.” After that, there was darkness, and I thought that would be the end for me.

But then I opened my eyes, and the white light blinded me again, the white light of the hospital room.

I saw him holding back tears. “She sacrificed herself so that you could live,” he said.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“Right now, your mother’s heart is beating inside you,” he said.

“What? No, that’s not possible,” I said.

“You know your mom. When she decides on something, she does it, and nothing can stand in her way,” he said. “This is for you,” he added and handed me a folded piece of paper that said, “To my daughter.”

I unfolded it and began to read, tears blurring my vision.

I know it was wrong to lie to you, and I even wanted to tell you the truth during our trip, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t have biological children, so when I met you and your dad, it felt like a blessing.

Not for a single day in my life did I think that you were not my real daughter, because that is not true.

You have always been, and will always be, my daughter. And I will always be your mom. Remember that I love you every time you feel your heartbeat.

Tears streamed down my face. I could not believe she had done that for me. That she had given up her life so I could live mine.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye to her. I didn’t even tell her that I love her,” I said to him.

“She knew. Of course, she knew that you loved her. Besides, before you lost consciousness, you said you loved both of us,” he replied.

“I was scared I would die,” I said.

“But you’re alive, and you must cherish every day of your life,” he said and hugged me.

I hugged him back. “I will never forget who I owe my life to.”

Maybe Mom had not given birth to me, but she still gave me life. And I would live it, treasuring every second, so she could be proud of me.

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