I saved screenshots of the translations, planning to show them to my lab colleague when I collected the test results.
Four days later, we met as arranged.
She handed me the report, her eyes filled with pity.
“This drug contains nothing beneficial for pregnant women at all.”
“In fact, some of the ingredients are newly developed compounds that are banned or not approved for sale.”
“If you keep taking this medication while trying to conceive, the chance of the baby being deformed is… nearly one hundred percent.”
Her words struck me like lightning. I clutched her hand, my lips trembling.
“Are you sure? There’s no mistake?”
She couldn’t bear to look at me and turned her head.
“No mistake. And women who take this drug for long periods, after conceiving a deformed child, will likely never be able to get pregnant again.”
I collapsed to the floor. She helped me into the break room and tried to comfort me:
“It’s a blessing you found out early. I don’t know where your husband got this from… but you should really plan to leave him as soon as possible.”
I couldn’t stop retching, my body shaking uncontrollably.
The man I loved and trusted with my life was trying to destroy me—
And our unborn child.