My Water Broke in a Taxi While My Life Was Falling Apart — What the Driver Did Still Makes Me Cry

By the time my mother died, I felt like something inside me had already gone quiet. She was my anchor, my first call, the one person I thought would still be there when everything else fell apart. I was nine months pregnant when we buried her. I remember standing at the grave, one hand on my swollen belly, thinking, At least I’m not alone. I still have my family.

I was wrong.

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Two weeks later, I found out my husband was cheating. Not rumors. Not suspicions. Proof. Messages, photos, plans for a future that didn’t include me or the baby growing inside me. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I just felt… empty. Like my body was going through the motions while my heart had stepped out of the room.

The night my water broke, it was 3 a.m. I was alone in our apartment. I called a taxi because I didn’t trust myself to drive. By the time I climbed into the back seat, contractions were already rolling through me like waves. Then it happened — water everywhere. I panicked, sobbing, apologizing over and over.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” I kept saying, mortified.

The driver pulled over without hesitation. He took off his jacket, spread it on the seat, and turned to me gently.