Whose Baby?

June Clayton here. My husband, George, and I did not conceive easily. Since trying was such fun, we did not mind the wait. The birth had problems, RH, diabetes, etc., so the doctors suggested that we stop at one. The baby boy's eyes focused at the caesarean. The eyes were George's, and showed intelligence. Thus, we figured, one, but a good one.

While any baby is hard and dirty work, our son, Barry, gave more than enough joy to make it more than worth it. The next twelve years were more of the same. One day Barry came home from middle school with a pain in his back. The pain was was so severe that we went immediately to the emergency room. Fortunately, they took him quickly, and gave him a shot to relieve the pain. The doctor said it looks like an easy diagnosis, kidneys. The blood tests, and CAT scan confirmed that one kidney needed to be removed, and other couldn't do the job alone. Dialysis was necessary until a donor was found. DNA tests were immediately performed on George and me. George was a match and within a few days was prepped for surgery. My test showed not only that I was not a match, but I was not the mother.

What?!! That's not how it is supposed to go. In literotica stories, DNA shows that the mother cheated, and the baby is not her husband's. This is the opposite. I didn't cheat, and I gave birth. I know because it hurt, a lot. I did not forget the dilemma, but put it in the back of my mind until the operation was successful, and George and Barry were comfortable.

When George recovered sufficiently, and Barry was sleeping, the confrontation began. George didn't try to lie. He admitted that he and a female colleague got drunk on a business trip, and only used one hotel room that night. He claimed it was the only time he cheated on me. Unless I see other evidence, I will assume that is true, but I will keep my eyes peeled.

What should I do? The commenters in the Loving Wives section of literotica say dump the wife in the usual DNA situation. I don't believe that happiness results from treating the two sexes identically. The differences are real and viva. Anyway George just sacrificed a kidney for his, no my, son. Whatever DNA says, he's mine. I spent twelve years raising him and I love him. I love George and I didn't give birth to him. That is another section of literotica. Yes, I love George. I trust him less, but I still love him.

George surmised how it happened. That the hospital switched babies is obvious. That we ended up with George's bastard is a billion to one shot. Where do we go from here?

"George, where is she? What has she told you?"

"She put in for a transfer immediately after our night. She was in another office across town by the next week. I have said hello to her at conferences, but we have never had a significant conversation. I am sure she has no idea about the switch."

I followed up. This must not go public. Even though you are the biological father, I will not allow even a small chance of losing Barry. As for my birth child, what kind of mother would I be to disrupt its life. As for Barry's health, we know you are a good match. Whatever he needs, you're giving it up.

George continued, the hospital is not getting off. They want to keep the secret, as much as we do. They will be thrilled with a quick quiet settlement. I know a lawyer who can get us between two and five million. Barry's college and our vacations are paid for.

George's lawyer was as good as he said. The hospital lawyer was thrilled that we wanted to keep the secret. The settlement was closer to two million. 1.5 after taxes and the lawyer's fee. We are not telling Barry about his maternity. We see no reason that it would make him happier. Our first vacation was to Disney world. We could now afford one of the hotels on the water. We loved taking a boat to the parks. That is George and I loved the parks. Somehow, Barry thought they were just okay. Maybe they should limit Disney World to adults. A year makes a difference in a teenager. Our next vacation, a Rhine cruise, enchanted Barry.

My marriage: I have read that more marriages fail on money problems than sex. In our case my husband's cheating solved any of our money problems. So I guess my marriage broke even. The issue of course was trust. George Ade said that an ounce of prevention was worth a pound of cure, but was much more expensive. Wait until you have a problem, then hire a troubleshooter, it's cheaper. I'm sure that's true for machinery, but I don't believe it for marriage. My ounce of prevention was spyware. I told George to stay at work and away from the house, and leave his car, on a Friday. I was going to install cameras and listening devices. I paid for it from my credit card, but told him to write me a check for $5000.

That way he would not know where I got it, and find out what I installed. He accepted responsibility for our issue, and wrote the check. It really only cost about $4000, but I used the rest for silks from Victoria's Secret, another ounce. To misquote Wall Street, "Laziness is good." I counted on the idea that George would not do the work and spend the money to find my spyware. Anyway he knew no one could guarantee that they found everything, so why bother. George accepts surveillance as the price for his unfaithfulness, and even says that there are advantages to living a more open life. So we are living mostly happily ever after.

So what is the moral of this story? Don't cheat unless you can make more than a million dollars from it. Is Indecent Proposal the way to go? If a million is the standard, at least it would cut out 99.9% of the cheating.