I had a happy marriage, with 3 sons, and I wanted to have a wife. My husband was not so convinced, but I insisted.
After many attempts I finally got pregnant. I anxiously waited for the fourth month to be told the sex.
One day like so many I went to drop off the children at school, and my husband went to his office. We say goodbye especially affectionate, with a big hug and a long kiss.
A few hours later my husband had an accident and the doctors could not do anything. He passed away at the clinic at 11:39 p.m. the same day.
My world fell apart but I had a life in my womb and 3 small children. The following week I was 4 months pregnant so I had to go to the gynecologist.
Since he saw me very sad and I couldn’t help crying, he asked me what was wrong with me. I told him that I had become a widow and he was moved, stood up and hugged me.
When I calmed down, he confirmed the sex of the baby: it was a girl. From that day on I had a daily call from him to see how he was doing. As my belly grew, their support became essential.
He started visiting us at home and playing with my children. I was falling in love, even with the pain of feeling my late husband in every space of my house.
With the birth of Florence, a loving relationship was also born and today we are a family with 5 children. We married, and with him we had a son who we named after my dead husband. Roxana.
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