My Mom Told Me Not to Visit for 3 Months Due to ‘Renovations’ — When I Decided to Surprise Her, I Discovered the Gory Truth She Was Hiding

For three months, Mia’s mom insisted she stay away while her house was being renovated. But something didn’t sit right. When Mia arrives unannounced, she finds the door unlocked, the house eerily pristine, and a strange smell in the air. Mia is about to stumble upon a devastating secret.

The city was just waking up as I drove through its empty streets. Early morning light painted everything in soft hues, but I couldn’t shake this gnawing feeling in my gut. Something was wrong.

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white. Mom’s voice echoed in my head as my memory replayed all those hurried phone calls and weird excuses. “Oh, honey, I can’t have you over. The house is a mess with all these renovations.”

But three months without seeing her? That wasn’t like us. We used to be thick as thieves, her and me.

I worried about what had changed as I waited at an intersection. Mom had always been house-proud, constantly tweaking and updating our home. But this felt different.

An intersection | Source: Pexels

An intersection | Source: Pexels

Her voice on the phone lately… she always sounded so tired. Sad, even. And every time I’d try to press her on it, she’d brush me off. “Don’t worry about me, Mia. How’s that big project at work going? Have you gotten that promotion yet?”

I knew she was keeping something from me, and I’d let it slide for far too long.

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

So here I was, way too early on a Saturday morning, driving across town because I couldn’t shake this feeling that something was terribly wrong.

As I pulled up to Mom’s house, my heart sank. The garden, usually Mom’s pride and joy, was overgrown and neglected. Weeds poked through the flower beds, and the rosebushes looked like they hadn’t seen pruning shears in months.

“What the hell?” I muttered. I killed the engine and rushed to the gate.

A woman walking up a front path | Source: Midjourney

A woman walking up a front path | Source: Midjourney

I walked up to the front door, my footsteps echoing in the quiet morning. When I tried the handle, it turned easily. Unlocked. That wasn’t like Mom at all.

Fear prickled across my skin as I stepped inside. There was no dust, or building materials in sight. No sign of a drop cloth or any paint cans either. And what was that smell? Sharp and citrusy. The place was too clean, too sterile. Like a hospital.

“Mom?” I called out.

No answer.

A woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

My eyes swept the entryway, landing on a familiar photo on the side table. It was us at the beach when I was maybe seven or eight. I was grinning at the camera, gap-toothed and sunburned, while Mom hugged me from behind, laughing.

The glass was smudged with fingerprints, mostly over my face. That was weird. Mom was always wiping things down, keeping everything spotless. But this… it looked like someone had been touching the photo a lot, almost frantically.

A chill ran down my spine.

A woman holding a framed photo | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a framed photo | Source: Midjourney

“Mom?” I called again, louder this time. “You here?”

That’s when I heard it. A faint creaking came from upstairs.

My heart raced as I climbed the stairs. The quiet felt heavy, pressing in on me from all sides. I tried to steady my breathing as I walked down the hallway toward Mom’s room.

“Mom?” My voice came out as a whisper now. “It’s me. It’s Mia.”

I pushed open her bedroom door, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

A bedroom door | Source: Unsplash

A bedroom door | Source: Unsplash

There she was, struggling to sit up in bed. But this… this couldn’t be my mother. The woman before me was frail and gaunt, her skin sallow against the white sheets. And her hair… oh God, her beautiful hair was gone, replaced by a scarf wrapped around her head.

“Mia?” Her voice was weak, barely above a whisper. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

I stood frozen in the doorway, my mind refusing to process what I was seeing.

A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

“Mom? What… what happened to you?”

She looked at me with those familiar brown eyes, now sunken in her pale face. “Oh, honey,” she sighed. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

I stumbled to her bedside, dropping to my knees. “Find out what? Mom, please, tell me what’s going on.”

She reached out a thin hand, and I clasped it in both of mine. It felt so fragile, like a bird’s bones.

“I have cancer, Mia,” she said softly.

People holding hands | Source: Pexels

People holding hands | Source: Pexels

Time stopped and my world narrowed down to how dry her lips looked as she spoke and the hollow feeling in my chest. I couldn’t breathe.

“… undergoing chemotherapy for the past few months,” she finished.

“Cancer? But… but why didn’t you tell me? Why did you keep this from me?”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I didn’t want to burden you, sweetheart. You’ve been working so hard for that promotion. I thought… I thought I could handle this on my own.”

A woman sitting in bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in bed | Source: Midjourney

Anger flared up inside me, hot and sudden. “Handle it on your own? Mom, I’m your daughter! I should have been here! I should have known!”

“Mia, please,” she pleaded. “I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want you to see me like this, so weak and…”

“Protect me?” I cut her off, my voice rising as tears blurred my vision. “By lying to me? By keeping me away when you needed me most? How could you do that?”

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

Mom’s face crumpled, and she started to cry, too. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Mia. I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want to be a burden.”

I climbed onto the bed beside her, careful not to jostle her too much, and pulled her into my arms.

“Oh, Mom,” I whispered. “You could never be a burden to me. Never.”

We sat there for a long time, just holding each other and crying. All the fear and pain of the past few months came pouring out.

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

When we finally calmed down, I helped Mom get more comfortable, propping her up with pillows. Then I went downstairs and made us both some tea, my mind reeling with everything I’d learned.

Back in her room, I perched on the edge of the bed, handing her a steaming mug. “So,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Tell me everything. From the beginning.”

And she did. She told me about the diagnosis, the shock, and the fear. How she’d started treatment right away, hoping to beat it before I even knew something was wrong.

A woman lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

“But it spread so fast,” she said, her voice trembling. “By the time I realized how bad it was, I was already so sick.”

I took her hand again, squeezing gently. “Mom, don’t you get it? I love you. All of you. Even the sick parts, even the scared parts. Especially those parts. That’s what family is for.”

She looked at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and regret. “I just… I’ve always been the strong one, you know? Your rock. I didn’t know how to be anything else.”

A woman glancing to one side | Source: Midjourney

A woman glancing to one side | Source: Midjourney

I smiled through my tears. “Well, now it’s my turn to be the rock. I’m not going anywhere, Mom. We’re in this together, okay?”

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Okay.”

I moved back in with Mom later that week. I also took time off work and called in every favor I could to get Mom the best care possible, even if all we could do was keep her as comfortable as possible.

We spent her final days together, sharing stories and memories, laughing and crying together. And when the end came, I was right there beside her.

A woman lying beside her mother | Source: Midjourney

A woman lying beside her mother | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sorry, Mia,” she whispered. “I wanted… I never took you to Disneyland… I promised to take you camping in the mountains… so many promises I’ve broken…”

“It’s not important.” I moved closer to her on the bed. “What matters is that you were always there for me when I needed you. You always knew how to make me smile when I was sad, or make everything better when I messed something up.” I sniffed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you, Mom.”

Her eyes cracked open, and she smiled faintly at me.

Close up of a woman's eyes | Source: Midjourney

Close up of a woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney

“You’re going to be okay, Mia. You’re so strong… my amazing daughter. I love you so much.”

I put my arms around her and hugged her as tightly as I dared. I’m not sure exactly when she slipped away, but when I eventually pulled back, Mom was gone.

I stayed there for a long time, trying to hold onto the warmth of our last hug as sobs racked my body, replaying her last words in my mind. Trying to keep her with me, no matter how impossible that was.

A woman grieving | Source: Midjourney

A woman grieving | Source: Midjourney

Saying goodbye to Mom was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I wouldn’t trade those moments I spent with her for anything in the world.

Because in the end, that’s what love is. It’s showing up, even when it’s hard. It’s being there, even in the darkest moments. It’s holding on tight and never letting go.

Here’s another story: My name is Larissa, and I’m just a regular woman trying to keep up with the demands of life. Between work and everything else, I sometimes forget to slow down and focus on what really matters. But nothing could have prepared me for the day I returned to my childhood home, only to find it reduced to rubble and my mother missing.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

He was the first man in the world to give birth – 16 years later, he looks like this

In a groundbreaking moment 16 years ago, Thomas Beatie etched his name in history as the world’s first man to undergo pregnancy.
Born female, Thomas underwent a gender transition, now identifying as a transgender man. The global spotlight shone on him when news broke of his remarkable journey to parenthood with the birth of his first daughter, Susan
In a surprising turn of events in 2006, he halted his testosterone treatment with the aspiration of conceiving. Facing fertility challenges with his then-wife Nancy, Thomas made the courageous decision to carry the child himself.

The iconic image of Thomas Beatie sporting a heavily pregnant belly first circulated in 2008, creating ripples across the world. Media dubbed Beatie “the pregnant man” and news of his story quickly spread worldwide.
Yet, the journey was far from smooth, with hate emails and death threats pouring in from numerous quarters, including established media outlets.
”Doctors have discriminated against us, turning us away due to their religious beliefs. Health care professionals have refused to call me by a male pronoun or recognize Nancy as my wife. Receptionists have laughed at us. Friends and family have been unsupportive; most of Nancy’s family doesn’t even know I’m transgender,” Thomas later said.
During an extensive 48-hour labor, Susan, the first child of Thomas and Nancy, was born into the world healthy and happy. Thomas, determined to opt for a natural birth, defied expectations. His case marked the first documented instance where a legally recognized male gave birth within a marital union with a woman.
Thomas Thomas Trace Beatie
Posted by Thomas Trace Beatie on Tuesday, February 23, 2016
Over the course of five years without testosterone, Thomas experienced four more pregnancies (one of which resulted in an ectopic pregnancy). Together with his first wife, Nancy, he raised Susan and sons Austin and Jensen, presenting themselves as a traditional family with strong values.

In a significant television debut, Thomas Beatie took center stage with an exclusive hour-long interview on the Oprah Winfrey Show in April 2008. Addressing a global audience, he openly discussed his belief in the reproductive right to bear a child, irrespective of his male gender identity.
During the interview, Beatie emphasized: “It’s not a male or female desire to want to have a child; it’s a human desire. I’m a person, and I have the right to have my own biological child.”
His words echoed a powerful assertion of his personal autonomy and challenged conventional perceptions surrounding gender and parenthood.
In 2016, Thomas entered a new chapter, marrying a new partner, Amber. Despite having known each other since 2012, a tumultuous divorce with Nancy delayed Thomas and Amber’s nuptials.
The couple moved to Oregon with their blended family, consisting of Susan, Austin, Jensen, and Amber’s grandchild Lily.
Reflecting on their bustling household, Thomas shared: “It can get pretty loud with four kids aged 3, 5, 6, and 7, but we love it,” in an interview with Daily Mail.

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Quel rôle est plus convaincant: flic ou maçon? ??? Which look is more convincing?
Posted by Thomas Trace Beatie on Sunday, March 10, 2019
Sixteen years have elapsed since Thomas became a public figure, yet he continues to make occasional appearances on social media and in people’s feeds.

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In a recent interview with USA Today, he shared insights into his current endeavors, revealing that he now works as a stockbroker in Phoenix. He continues to live with his wife Amber, whom he met at the daycare where his children were enrolled.

His older children divide their time between his residence and their mother’s home, located approximately ten miles away.
According to Thomas, he lives a relatively quiet life but once in a while, he does public-speaking jobs and takes on modest acting opportunities.
Looking back on the whirlwind of attention that surrounded him 16 years ago when he graced the front pages, Thomas acknowledged the lasting impact of those significant moments in his life.
à quel métier/rôle j’ai l’air? ?️ What profession or role do I look like?
Posted by Thomas Trace Beatie on Tuesday, May 30, 2023
Reflecting on the past, Thomas, now in his 50s, remarked: “When my story came out, there wasn’t a single person in the public eye as a transgender man — most people had never heard of it.”
”This was pre-Chaz Bono. This was pre-Caitlyn Jenner. This was before anyone knew anything. It was a first exposure for a lot of people. And then on top of that, they can give birth! I think exposing the importance of fertility for trans people was a huge eye-opener.”
”Everything was a whirlwind,” he said. ”But I still don’t regret it,” Thomas shared.

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