Doctor Raises Triplets after Mother Dies in Labor, in 5 Years Their Bio Dad Appears — Story of the Day

Doctor Spellman adopted and raised his sister’s triplets after she passed away during childbirth. But five years later, his life was turned upside down when the triplets’ bio father showed up to reclaim the children.

“Breathe, breathe. It’s all going to be okay,” Thomas gently told his sister, marching alongside her while she was being carried to the operation room on a gurney.

Leah’s sweaty brows furrowed as she tried to take a deep breath. “You’re… You’re the best older brother I could ask God for, Thomas,” she whispered as they entered the OR.

Leah had gone into labor at only 36 weeks of pregnancy, and the doctors had suggested performing a C-section. But soon after delivering the first baby, Leah’s pulse began dropping, and her condition worsened…

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Leah, please stay with me! Nurse, what’s happening? Look at me, Leah! Look at me,” Thomas cried, his palms wrapped around his sister’s hand.

“Doctor Spellman, you need to leave, please,” Dr. Nichols said, escorting him outside. Then the doors of the OR were slammed shut.

Thomas sank onto one of the chairs in the waiting area, his tears not stopping. He could still smell his sister’s scent on his palms. He buried his face in his hands, hoping it would all be fine soon.

But when a doctor’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, he could tell something was not right. “Doctor…how…how’s Leah?” he asked, jumping to his feet.

“We’re sorry, Thomas,” Dr. Nichols said remorsefully. “We tried our best, but we couldn’t stop the bleeding. The children are safe and have been placed in the NICU.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Thomas sank back onto the chair, unable to process the news of his sister’s death. Leah had been so excited to hold her little angels, cradle them, and give them only the best. How could God be so cruel and take her away so soon?

What am I going to do now?” Thomas thought disappointedly when a voice boomed in the hallway. “Where the hell is she?! She thought she could deliver the kids, and I wouldn’t know?”

Thomas’s rage knew no bounds when he saw his sister’s ex-boyfriend, Joe, storming into the hospital. “Where is your sister?” Joe growled.

Thomas grabbed the man’s collar and pinned him to the wall. “Now you’re interested in where she is, huh? Where were you when she spent a night on the streets because of a lowlife like you? And where were you, Joe, when she collapsed four hours ago? She’s dead! My sister…she didn’t even survive to see her kids!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Where are my children? I want to see them!” Joe screamed, yanking away Thomas’s arms.

“Don’t you even dare talk about them, Joe! Get out of my hospital, or I will call security!” Thomas warned him. “OUT!”

“I’m leaving now, but I’m going to get my children back, Thomas! You can’t take them away from me,” Joe shot back as he disappeared away from the hallway.

For the sake of his three little nephews, Thomas decided he couldn’t just sit and mourn his sister’s loss. He was all his nephews had, and he would do anything to ensure the children didn’t grow up under their alcoholic father’s care. So Thomas decided to adopt the triplets, and he fought for their custody in court.

“This is unfair, your honor!” Joe screamed on the witness stand, shedding fake tears. “I am the kids’ father. How would I survive without those little lives? They are Leah’s flesh and blood, MY flesh and blood, and they are all I have now!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Let me get something clear,” the judge told Joe. “You were not married to the children’s mother, Leah, nor did you support her financially while she was pregnant. Is that right?”

“Well, you’re not wrong, your Honor,” Joe sighed, lowering his head. “I work as a handyman and take up small gigs. I couldn’t afford to support her, and that’s the reason why we didn’t get married.”

“Pardon me, your honor, but my client has text messages and voice notes from his sister where she clearly states that Mr. Dawson is a heavy drinker,” said Thomas’s lawyer. “And she refused to marry him unless he entered a rehabilitation program.” The lawyer presented the evidence in court, convincing the judge that Joe was not fit to raise the children, and the court decided in favor of Thomas.

As Thomas walked out of the courtroom, he looked up at the bright skies, remembering his sister. “I had promised you I would do my best to help you. I hope I didn’t disappoint you, Leah,” he whispered with teary eyes.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Right then, Joe stormed out of the court and grabbed Thomas’s arm. “I’m the real father of the children, and I’m going to fight for them, Thomas. Don’t be too proud that you’ve won for now.”

Thomas pulled his arm from Joe’s grasp and glared at him. “That’s exactly why you’re not fit to become their father, Joe! You shouldn’t fight for the children but for the children’s sake!”

When Thomas returned home from the court, satisfied that Leah’s kids were safe with him, he saw his wife packing her bags.

“What’s going on, Susannah?” he asked, bewildered. “What’s with all the packing at this time?”

“I’m sorry, Thomas,” she huffed, zipping the last bag. “I’m not even sure if I want children at all, and here you have three at once. You won the case, didn’t you? Well, I thought it over, but I don’t think I want to spend the next few years of my life changing diapers. I didn’t sign up for this when I married you, Thomas. Sorry.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

And then Susannah was gone. Thomas looked around the house, and he still couldn’t believe he was left all alone to care for his nephews. He pulled out a bottle from the wine rack in frustration, but just as he tossed away the cork, his gaze was drawn to the screensaver on his phone.

His three little nephews were waiting for him. He couldn’t just drown in his sorrows and leave them to their fates.

“I promised Leah I would give them a good life. I can’t do this!” He returned the wine bottle to the rack and walked away.

Time flew by, and the triplets, Jayden, Noah, and Andy, were raised in the love and care of Thomas. Whether it was cleaning the boys’ poopy diapers or lulling them to sleep with his tragically unmelodic voice, Thomas loved each moment he spent with his nephews.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

But their care also took a toll on his physical and mental health, and one day, Thomas collapsed at work. He dismissed it as a lack of sleep and left to pick up his nephews from kindergarten.

But as he arrived home, the sight of the man across from his house sent shivers down his spine. Joe stood there on the sidewalk, in front of Thomas’s house, after five long years.

“Kids, get inside. I’m gonna join you soon, okay?” Thomas smiled as the kids went in.

Then he approached Joe. “What the hell are you doing here?!” he snarled. “Have you been stalking us all along?”

“I’m here to take back what’s mine, Thomas. I’m here for my children!” he admitted brazenly.

“Your children?” Thomas scoffed. “Where were you all those five years when I was raising them? They were never yours, to begin with, Joe. You walked out on them when they weren’t even born, and now you’ve returned to claim them? They’re no longer your children. Get lost!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

“You’re wrong, Thomas,” Joe said confidently. “I worked hard for those five years so I could be financially stable to look after my children. I told you I wouldn’t give up, and it’s time the children went home with their biological father!”

“Oh really?” Thomas challenged him. “I bet the new car you’re driving around will convince the judge otherwise. Don’t waste your time!”

Thomas was confident that Joe wouldn’t be able to take the kids back, but a few months later, he received a court summons. Thomas’s heart dropped as he read it, but he still mustered courage and appeared at the court.

During the hearing, Joe’s lawyer summoned Thomas to the witness stand. “It has recently come to our attention that Dr. Spellman is on a very specific regimen of prescription medications,” Joe’s lawyer said. “After consulting a medical specialist, I’ve come to—”

“Objection, your honor!” Thomas’s lawyer cried, jumping to his feet.

“I will allow it since the guardian’s health directly impacts these proceedings,” the judge said.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Thank you, your honor,” Joe’s lawyer continued, turning to face Thomas. “Is it true, Dr. Spellman, that you were diagnosed with a brain tumor, and the doctors can’t guarantee how long you will live? And that this particular combination of medications is used to treat a brain tumor?”

Thomas hung his head as he said, “Yes.” He was indeed diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor months ago and was taking medications to shrink the size and prevent seizures.

After listening to both parties, the judge looked at Thomas with sympathetic eyes and delivered the judgment.

“Considering the new circumstances, the court believes that it would be best for the children to be in the care of their biological father. Dr. Spellman, I wish you strength and good health, but if you truly love these children, you must understand that this is what’s best for them. Hence, I am awarding the custody of the children to their biological father. You have two weeks to prepare them.”

Thomas had seen it all coming the day he received the summons, but he wanted to fight for his nephews and for the sake of his promise to Leah.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

As he packed his nephews’ bags, ready to bid them goodbye, Thomas’s chest felt hollow, as if a heart was no longer beating there. These children had been his reason to live.

“Uncle Thomas, we want to live with you! Please, Uncle Thomas,” the kids insisted.

“Boys,” Thomas said. “If you love Uncle Thomas, you know he would never choose something wrong for you. I want you to be happy, and Joe will keep you happy, boys. Will you please get your things to his car now?”

As the three little boys loaded their bags into Joe’s car, they didn’t even look at him. In fact, they turned around and ran and hugged Doctor Thomas’s leg.

“I love you, Uncle Thomas,” Jayden said in tears. “I…I don’t want to leave you!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“We want to live with you, too!” Noah and Andy cried in unison.

“Hey, hey, guys,” Thomas crouched down to face the kids. “Didn’t we make a solid deal? I will come to see you on weekends, and we’re going to be good to Daddy Joe.”

Thomas wrapped the boys in a tight hug, swallowing his tears. “Now come on; Joe’s waiting,” he said, trying to pull away, but the children held onto him even tighter.

Joe had never liked Thomas. In fact, he would’ve done anything to have his kids back. But at that moment, something in his heart shifted. He looked at Thomas and the boys and couldn’t stop himself from joining them.

“You were right all along, Thomas,” he said, hugging them and shaking his head. “We should not fight for the children but for their sake.” After that, Joe helped Thomas carry the boys’ bags back into the house.

Tell us what you think of this story, and share it with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who adopted her late best friend’s son despite being a single mother of four kids. But 13 years later, the boy’s birth father showed up on her doorstep to take him away.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life. 

My Son Refused to Eat During Our Thanksgiving Dinner – When I Asked Why, He Said, ‘Grandma Told Me the Truth About You’

This Thanksgiving started with a hard-earned feast, but my son refused to eat and wouldn’t tell me why. Later, his heartbreaking confession revealed how one family member had shattered his trust and ours.

Life isn’t easy right now, but everyone does their best to make it work. My husband, Mark, and I try to focus on what really matters: creating a happy home for our 8-year-old son, Ethan.

A cute boy | Source: Midjourney

A cute boy | Source: Midjourney

This year, we were determined to give him a Thanksgiving to remember, even though money’s been tight. We were also hosting our mother, so I wanted it to be nice.

Luckily, we managed to stretch our budget and pulled off a feast. The turkey came out golden and juicy, the mashed potatoes were fluffy, and Ethan’s favorite pumpkin pie was chilling in the fridge. I was proud of what we’d accomplished despite rising prices.

Thanksgiving food on a table | Source: Midjourney

Thanksgiving food on a table | Source: Midjourney

Everything seemed fine until dinner. Ethan sat at the table, unusually quiet while staring at his plate. That kid often bounces with excitement for Thanksgiving.

“Sweetie,” I said gently, trying not to sound worried, “you’re not eating. Is everything okay?”

He shrugged, barely looking up. “I’m not hungry,” he mumbled.

A sad boy at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

A sad boy at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

Mark shot me a questioning look across the table. I shrugged back, unsure what was going on. Our son was not the kind of kid to hold back if something was bothering him, but with my mom at the table, maybe he didn’t feel like talking.

She’s not exactly the warmest presence.

I decided not to push it during dinner. “Alright,” I said softly, giving his hand a little squeeze. “But let me know if that changes, okay?”

Ethan nodded, but the look on his face stayed with me. Something was wrong.

A worried woman at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney

After dinner, my son skipped dessert. Skipped. Dessert. That’s like the sun deciding not to rise.

Meanwhile, my mom didn’t notice or didn’t care. She stayed for another hour, and for some reason, she nitpicked the meal we’d had tirelessly saved for and worked so hard to make.

She complained about the fact that we made mac and cheese from a box, which is Ethan’s favorite, or it used to be, I guess.

Mac and cheese | Source: Midjourney

Mac and cheese | Source: Midjourney

Apparently, we should’ve bought the good cheese and real macaroni from the store, considering Thanksgiving was such a special occasion.

At one point, tears pricked my eyes because this had been such a sacrifice. I wanted to yell that between her and Ethan’s strange attitude, Thanksgiving had been ruined.

But I bit my tongue, nodding to appease her. When she finally left, I headed straight for my son’s room.

A woman looking sad during Thanksgiving dinner | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking sad during Thanksgiving dinner | Source: Midjourney

Mark followed, just as worried as I was. Ethan was curled up on his bed, hugging his pillow.

“Sweetie?” I said softly, sitting beside him. “What’s wrong, honey? You’ve been so quiet today. You didn’t eat your favorite mac and cheese, and you didn’t want pumpkin pie.”

He looked at me with teary eyes. “Grandma told me the truth about you,” he whispered.

My stomach dropped. “What truth?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

A woman looking worried in a child's bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking worried in a child’s bedroom | Source: Midjourney

He hesitated, then blurted out, “She said you and Dad are losers! She said we’re poor, and that’s why we can’t have a real Thanksgiving.”

My body froze, but my eyes widened. I could almost hear the sound of my heart breaking into a million pieces, like a vase thrown deliberately at the wall.

“When did your grandmother say these things?” I finally asked in a whisper.

“Last week, when she picked me up from school,” he replied as the tears wet his pillow.

A kid in bed looking sad | Source: Midjourney

A kid in bed looking sad | Source: Midjourney

Mark knelt next to me, and I saw his jaw tightening. “Ethan,” he said gently, “Grandma shouldn’t have said that to you.”

Our son sniffled, and his small hands gripped the blanket tighter. “She also said Dad’s lazy and doesn’t make enough money. And that you’re… not good at taking care of me.”

I could barely breathe.

Luckily, Mark was more composed. He started rubbing Ethan’s back, speaking in a calm but firm voice. “Buddy, none of that is true. Your mom and I work hard to give you everything we can because we love you so much.”

A man looking worried as he leans over a bed | Source: Midjourney

A man looking worried as he leans over a bed | Source: Midjourney

“But she said we’re not a real family,” our son continued. “Because we don’t have the stuff other people have.”

“Listen to me, sweetie,” I said hoarsely. “Grandma is wrong. What makes a family real isn’t money or stuff. It’s love. And we have so much of that.”

Mark chimed in, nodding. “People can and will say hurtful things, even people we love. But your mother’s right. What matters is how we treat each other, and I think we’re the luckiest family in the world because we’re together and healthy.”

A man leaning over a bed | Source: Midjourney

A man leaning over a bed | Source: Midjourney

“Really?” Ethan asked.

“Yes!” Mark and I said in unison, and then I continued. “Listen, baby. We’re going to talk to Grandma. But she won’t be picking you up anymore. We all need a break from her, I think.”

Ethan bit his lip for a second before his tiny smile emerged.

“All good now?” Mark asked, tilting his head.

Our son lifted his upper body slightly and looked at us expectantly. “Can I have some pumpkin pie now?”

A kid looking happy lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

A kid looking happy lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

Mark and I released a sigh of relief.

We went out to the kitchen, and Ethan acted like he’d never eaten before. He devoured his mac and cheese, a bit of the turkey, and even some green beans before inhaling his piece of pumpkin pie.

He fell asleep on the couch a second after he finished, and we carried him to his room.

Once we were inside our bedroom, Mark and I agreed on what we would say to my mother almost immediately. He was so angry that there was no other choice.

A couple talking seriously | Source: Midjourney

A couple talking seriously | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, I woke up ready, but nervous. I called my mom over, and she arrived, looking smug and carrying that air of superiority that I’d ignored most of my life.

I just couldn’t let it go now that it had affected my son.

“Why did you invite me over? We saw each other last night, and I definitely don’t want leftovers from that meal” she chuckled without humor, sitting down on our armchair and not even saying hello to Mark.

A woman sitting on an armchair | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on an armchair | Source: Midjourney

Her comment was perfect because it assured me that I was making the right choice.

So, I didn’t waste more time. “Ethan told us what you said to him last week,” I began. “About Mark and me and our family.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, that? I was just being honest,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “He needs to understand how the real world works.”

Mark’s voice was sharp. “Telling an 8-year-old that his parents are losers is your idea of honesty?”

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. I was just preparing him for reality. He needs to know life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.”

“What he needs is love and support,” I snapped. “Not your judgmental comments. Do you have any idea how much you hurt him? Did you even notice he wasn’t eating last night?”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt him,” she said, looking annoyed. “But really… it’s just the truth. You can’t provide enough. He should have more.”

A woman sitting on an armchair and waving a hand dismissively | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on an armchair and waving a hand dismissively | Source: Midjourney

“More?” Mark said, standing and pacing the living room. “We work hard to give Ethan a good life. All he needs is us by his side. You don’t get to tear our family down just because you think we don’t measure up to your standards.”

Mom’s face turned red. “Things wouldn’t be this way if Umma had listened,” she retorted and turned her angry eyes to me. “If you had married the man I wanted for you, none of this would’ve happened.”

A woman looking angry on an armchair | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking angry on an armchair | Source: Midjourney

I saw that my husband was about to explode, so I stood and spoke first. “That’s enough. Get out of my house! Until you can show us all the respect we deserve, we’re cutting you off.”

Her jaw tightened. “What? You can’t do that!”

“Yes, we can,” Mark said, walking to our front door and opening it wide. “We might be losers, but this is our house, and we’ve had enough of you.”

Mom looked at me one more time, but I only raised my eyebrows expectantly.

A woman with arms crossed in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman with arms crossed in a living room | Source: Midjourney

With a huff, she grabbed her purse and stormed out. Mark slammed the door behind her and barked a laugh.

I didn’t, but I felt a weight off my shoulders.

Since then, our son has been thriving. It’s a little hard not being able to ask my mom to pick Ethan up, but we arranged a carpool schedule with other moms.

Weeks later, on an evening close to Christmas, I confirmed that this had been the right decision while baking cookies from a box mix. Ethan looked up at me with a big smile.

A boy with a bowl of cookie dough | Source: Midjourney

A boy with a bowl of cookie dough | Source: Midjourney

“Mom, I think our family is the best,” he said.

My throat felt too tight as I smiled back. “Me too, buddy. Me too.”

I don’t know if my mom will ever make her way back into our lives, but so far, she hasn’t even tried. Her pride and toxicity don’t allow her to see the big picture or what truly matters in life.

My advice is: Protect your kids, even if you have to pull away from other family members. The holidays should be joyful, not a source of stress and tears. Do what’s best for your household.

A happy family on Christmas | Source: Midjourney

A happy family on Christmas | Source: Midjourney

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.

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