My six-year-old nephew jumped onto my stomach, laughing and shouting, “Come out, baby! Hurry!” A sharp pain shot straight through me, and at that moment, my water broke. Witnessing this, my mother-in-law and sister-in-law burst into laughter. In desperation, I grabbed my phone to call my husband. But the very next moment, something terrible happened

Then Owen charged toward me.

Not slowly.

Not playfully.

Full speed.

I barely had time to lift my hand before he jumped—landing squarely on my stomach.

I screamed.

The pain was explosive, deep, terrifying. It stole my breath and shattered any sense of control. Then came that unmistakable rush of fluid.

I froze, staring down at myself, hands flying to my belly.

“No… no, no,” I whispered.

Owen laughed.

“Come out, baby! Hurry!” he yelled again, delighted.

Another wave of pain twisted through me. I bent forward, gasping.

Helen and Nina stared.

And then—to my disbelief—they laughed.

Like it was a joke. Like I was exaggerating.

“Rachel,” Helen said dismissively, waving a hand. “You’re being dramatic.”

Nina scoffed. “He’s a kid. He didn’t hurt you.”

My voice shook. “My water broke.”

Helen stood, still calm. “That happens sometimes near the end.”

“I’m only thirty-two weeks,” I whispered.

Nina finally looked uneasy—but quickly masked it. “Then call Mark.”

My hands trembled so badly I almost dropped my phone. When Mark answered, my voice broke.

“Owen jumped on me. My stomach. My water broke. I’m in pain—something’s wrong.”

Mark didn’t hesitate. “Call an ambulance. Now. I’m on my way.”