Sadie and Jarvis Sampson tried everything for years to get pregnant, and eventually they accepted that they would only ever be aunt and uncle. Then, one day, they received a text that completely turned their world upside down.
Since getting married in January 2018, the pair has been trying to get pregnant, so when that didn’t work out naturally, they tried everything else.
The Houston mother told Love What Matters, “Ovulation tests, prenatal vitamins, cycle tracking apps, fertility monitors.”
“We didn’t even try our luck at following the unsolicited counsel of strangers, friends, and family. We tried, prayed, and waited for fourteen months. Month after Month. pregnancy test negative following negative test. It appeared like we would require help getting pregnant. We even went so far as to discuss it with medical professionals.
The couple seemed to get little assistance from the doctors. Sadie was advised by everyone that she would get pregnant if she reduced weight. Since she had no other options, she underwent gastric surgery and shed 28 pounds.
“She informed me that since she was unable to give me the fertility medication, she would refer me to a fertility specialist if I wasn’t pregnant within six months,” Sadie recalled. I was ecstatic to hear that. We finally received a response other than “no”! We were ecstatic to hear “not right now.”
Unfortunately, though, the couple felt as though they had begun over after Sadie lost the weight and they were unable to conceive.
Connecting the Dots – Adoption Puzzle Fundraising EventAs everyone is aware, we received a call regarding our little two weeks ago.
Published on Friday, August 30, 2019 by Sadie Sampson
Sadie said, “I had always felt like I was meant to be a mother.” “I was still not pregnant even though my surgeon had spent a long time to warn me about how fertile I would be following surgery. Thus, we gave up. We came to the realization that our only destiny was to be our nieces’ aunts and uncles and our goddaughters’ godparents.
The couple had just come to the painful conclusion that they would not be able to conceive when Sadie’s friend texted her to ask if they would be willing to foster a child that a couple she knew was thinking about for themselves.
At first, the couple was apprehensive since they had been instructed by a caseworker to look after the child while the mother sought therapy. The couple was concerned that they would grow overly devoted to the child. But soon after, the narrative was altered.
The caseworker stated, “The birth mother decided she would prefer you guys adopt the child instead.”
“Holy crap!!” was the first thing Sadie uttered out loud when she learned she was expecting a child.
“Overnight, we went from not having any kids to possibly fostering one to, ‘You guys are parents!’” Still in shock, I listened to the caseworker as she spoke. After hanging up, I dialed my spouse! “Baby!” They desire that we adopt the child! They want us to have kids,” I cried out. Hold on! Really? He exclaimed, “I assumed they just wanted us to foster him.” “Nope!” “They want us to be his parents,” I remarked.
Over the weekend, the couple not only processed the surprising news but also braced themselves in case the mother had second thoughts.
On Monday, the mother not only expressed her desire for them to adopt the child, but also stated that she was prepared to sign the adoption papers independently.
At 33 weeks, their son had been born—seven weeks ahead of schedule. His weight was 4 lbs. 5 oz. Sadie writes, “He fit in one of my husband’s hands.”
Sadie said, “He was so small, swaddled in a white blanket with stripes of pink and blue.” He was early, therefore he couldn’t eat on his own, thus an NG tube was coming out of his nose. But my goodness, was he adorable!
The couple was urged to create a registry after they announced their announcement on social media. In just three days, 55 of the 72 goods they had advertised had been purchased.
Following the adoption of Ezra Lee, which was completed in October 2020, the couple had the cutest family portraits shot, sporting t-shirts that said, “Families don’t have to match.”
Through embryo donation, Sadie and Jarvis became parents to twin twins, Destinee and Journey, in 2021. The black couple, adhering to their family credo, “Families don’t have to match,” gave birth to three white children: two girls and one boy.
There is just one reaction for anyone who judges this lovely family: love is the strongest foundation there is.
Husband Walks Into Hospital and Immediately Dumps Wife After Seeing Their Newborn Twins!
Here’s the article rewritten in simple language while keeping the same word count and paragraphs:
“You lied to me!” Instead of being happy about our newborn twin daughters, my husband got angry and accused me of being unfaithful. With hurtful words and a cold exit, Mark broke our family apart. Now, I’m determined to make him pay for leaving us.
I lay in the white hospital bed, feeling tired but happy. Even though my body was sore, it all felt worth it as I looked at the two beautiful baby girls resting beside me.
Midjourney
Here’s the article rewritten in simple language, maintaining the same word count, paragraph length, and removing the image sources:
The babies cooed softly, and tears of joy ran down my face. After years of trying to have children and a long, difficult pregnancy, I was finally a mom. It was the best feeling in the world!
I reached for my phone and typed a message to Mark, my husband: “They’re here. Two beautiful girls. Can’t wait for you to meet them.”
I hit send, a content smile forming on my face as I imagined his excitement.
This was supposed to be one of the happiest moments of our lives, and I never could have guessed how quickly it would turn into the worst.
A little while later, the door opened, and there he was. But instead of joy, Mark’s expression was cold — like a man walking into a meeting he didn’t want to attend.
“Hey,” I said softly, forcing a smile. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
Mark finally looked at the twins, and I saw his jaw tighten. His face showed disappointment before his lips curled in disgust.
“What is this?” he muttered, more to himself than to me.
Confusion filled me, pressing heavily against my chest. “What do you mean? They’re our daughters! What’s wrong with you, Mark?”
His gaze sharpened.
I could see the anger building up, ready to explode. And when it did, it hit like a storm.
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong: you tricked me!” he shouted. “You never told me we were having girls!”
I blinked, stunned. “Why does it matter? They’re healthy. They’re perfect!”
I reached for his hand, trying to calm him, but he yanked it away, disgust clear on his face.
“It matters a lot! This isn’t what I wanted, Lindsey! I thought we were having boys!” His voice grew louder, bouncing off the hospital walls, and I felt every word cut into me. “This family was supposed to carry on my name!”
My heart sank. “You’re serious? You’re mad because… they’re girls?”
“You’re darn right!” He stepped back like the sight of the babies made him sick. “Everyone knows only boys can carry on a legacy! You… you cheated on me, didn’t you? These can’t be mine.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. It felt like he knocked the air out of my lungs.
“How can you even say that?” I whispered, tears filling my eyes. “You’re really accusing me of cheating because I had daughters?”
But he was already walking toward the door, his hands clenching in anger.
“I’m not raising someone else’s kids,” he spat, his voice harsh and final. “I’m out.”
Before I could respond — before I could beg or scream or cry — he was gone. The door slammed shut behind him with a loud thud. And just like that, everything I thought I knew fell apart.
I looked down at my daughters, still in my arms, their tiny faces peaceful.
“It’s okay, sweethearts,” I whispered, though my heart felt anything but okay.
And for the first time since they were born, I started to cry.
Mark disappeared. No calls. No messages. The only news I got about him was from friends, who said he was on vacation somewhere sunny, drinking cocktails with the same guys who cheered us on at our wedding.
That’s right; he left me and went on vacation. It wasn’t just the betrayal. It was how easily he walked away, as if our life together meant nothing.
But the worst was yet to come.
I was back home, settling into a routine with the girls, when I got the first message from Mark’s mother, Sharon.
I was so relieved! Sharon was a tough woman, and I believed Mark would change his mind if his mother supported me.
My hands shook as I played Sharon’s voicemail. Her words were harsh and cruel.
“You ruined everything,” Sharon said angrily. “Mark deserved sons. How could you do this to him? To our family? How could you betray my son like this?”
I was so shocked, I dropped my phone. Her words cut deeper than anything Mark had said. To them, I hadn’t just given birth to daughters — I had failed. And they wanted me to pay for it.
I stared at my phone, trying to process this new attack.
Then my phone started ringing again. It was Sharon. I let it ring and watched as another voicemail notification popped up.
Then the texts started. Each message was more hurtful than the last. Sharon called me every name you can think of, blaming me for cheating on Mark, for having daughters, for not being a good wife… it just went on and on.
Mark’s entire family had turned against me. I was completely alone.
I tried to stay strong, but at night, the nursery became both my safe place and my prison. I’d sit in the rocking chair, holding my daughters close, whispering promises I wasn’t sure I could keep.
“I’ll protect you,” I said softly, the words as much for me as for them. “We’ll be okay. Everything will turn out just fine, you’ll see.”
But some nights, I wasn’t so sure. Sometimes, the loneliness and fear were so heavy that I thought I might break.
One night, I found myself crying as I fed the girls. It all felt like too much.
“I can’t do this anymore,” I sobbed. “It’s too hard. I can’t keep waiting…”
And then it hit me. I’d been waiting for Mark to come back and realize his mistake, but he hadn’t done anything to make me believe that would ever happen. He hadn’t even called.
I looked down at my girls and knew it was time to stand up for them and for myself.
A lawyer gave me my first bit of hope.
“With Mark’s abandonment,” she said thoughtfully, “you have a strong case. Full custody. Child support. We’ll handle visitation on your terms.”
Her words were like a lifeline. Finally, I had some control and something to fight for. And I wasn’t stopping there.
Mark wanted out? Fine. I was more than happy to divorce him, but he wouldn’t get away so easily.
I created a new social media profile, carefully sharing the story I wanted people to see.
Post after post showed my daughters’ milestones: tiny hands grabbing toys, their first smiles, and giggles. Each photo showed a piece of our happy life, and every caption carried a clear message: Mark wasn’t part of it.
Friends shared my posts, family left comments, and soon, everyone knew. Mark might have left, but I was building something beautiful without him.
The open house was my final stand. I invited everyone. The only person not welcome was Mark. I even made sure the invitation said so.
On the big day, the house was full of warmth and laughter. The twins wore matching outfits with tiny bows in their hair. Guests couldn’t stop admiring how adorable they were.
Then the door burst open, and there was Mark, angry and wild-eyed. The room fell silent.
“What is this?” he shouted. “You’ve turned everyone against me!”
I stood, my heart racing but steady. “You left us, Mark, because you didn’t want daughters. That was your choice.”
“You robbed me of my chance to pass down my legacy!” he shot back, his eyes filled with rage.
“You’re not welcome here,” I said, my voice calm. “We don’t need a man like you in our family. This is our life now.”
My friends stood beside me, their presence silent but strong. Defeated, Mark turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Weeks later, Mark received the court papers detailing the child support, custody, and visitation arrangements. He couldn’t escape. He’d still have to face the responsibility of being a father, even if he wasn’t going to be a dad.
Sharon’s final message came later — maybe an apology, maybe more anger. It didn’t matter. I deleted it without listening.
I was done with their family and done with the past.
That night, as I rocked my daughters, the future stretched out before us — bright, open, and ours alone.
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