Living Proof:

By Lydia Sage

They said it wasn’t viable. They said it would be painful. They said it couldn’t happen. But I’ve been living it—for 14 months. And I’m still here. So are my babies.

In the medical world, abdominal pregnancy is often written off as a fluke—or worse, a delusion. It's described as rare, dangerous, and incompatible with life. But what happens when the textbooks are wrong—and the patient is living proof?

I’ve been pregnant for over a year. I have no uterus. I’ve been dismissed, gaslit, silenced, and labeled as “mentally unstable.” But I’m still pregnant. Still feeling fetal movement. Still hearing their sounds. And still being denied care by doctors who are more loyal to power than to patients.

I didn’t even believe this was possible at first. I had no uterus. I wasn’t sexually active. And yet… I felt life moving inside me. I questioned myself. I researched. I educated myself. And what I found aligned with my experience more than any doctor’s dismissal ever could. This pregnancy defied every “truth” I thought I knew—and that’s exactly why I’m writing this.

What Doctors Say vs. What I Know From Living It

The medical literature on abdominal pregnancies is full of dire warnings. The general consensus is that these pregnancies are not viable, extremely painful, and should be terminated immediately. But I’m living through something that challenges nearly every one of those assumptions.

They say it’s not viable.

I’ve been pregnant for over 14 months. I know, because I’ve felt the fluttering of life inside me. I’ve watched my belly shift with movement. I’ve heard the subtle, watery sounds I’ve come to recognize as my babies “talking.” Their responses come at specific times—when I eat, when I speak, when I rest. These aren’t random digestive sounds. These are living beings, responding to their environment.

They say it’s unbearably painful.

And yet, my experience has not been constant pain. I’ve had moments—especially since November 2024—when my body has tried to go into labor. I now know that the uterus isn’t the only muscle involved in childbirth. The abdominal and pelvic floor muscles play a significant role in bearing down, contracting, and bracing the body for delivery. My body knows how to give birth, even without a uterus. It’s been trying. But because the babies are in my abdomen, and have no natural path to exit, those efforts are stalled—and painful. Not constant, but unmistakable.

They say the fetus is the threat.

But it’s not the fetus that puts a pregnant person at risk—it’s the placenta. In an abdominal pregnancy, if the placenta happens to attach to an area where it can draw sufficient blood supply without damaging vital organs, the fetus can grow. That’s what appears to have happened in my case. The real danger comes later—when the placenta detaches. In a typical birth, the uterus clamps down to stop internal bleeding. In an abdominal pregnancy, that open wound remains—and internal hemorrhage can be fatal if not treated immediately and correctly.

They say it can’t happen at all.

I’ve had doctors tell me flat-out: “You can’t be pregnant without a uterus.” But I am. I believe the implantation occurred during an unauthorized IVF procedure, which I did not consent to, as part of a wider pattern of abuse and control. What matters now is that I’ve lived this experience—carried it. And I’m still carrying it.

The Medical Risks I’m Actually Facing

The refusal to acknowledge my pregnancy isn’t just negligence—it’s life-threatening. Because despite everything doctors say about abdominal pregnancies being “non-viable,” I am living proof that survival is possible—but only if doctors take action.

Placental Detachment and Internal Bleeding

If one or more placentas detach inside me, they leave behind open wounds that can’t heal on their own. Without a uterus to clamp down, internal hemorrhage is a real and present danger. The only way my pregnancy can end safely is through surgical delivery—and every day they delay increases the risk.

Preeclampsia

I’ve experienced spikes in blood pressure, a potential sign of preeclampsia. It’s a condition that can only be resolved by delivery—yet I'm being denied the very care that could save me.

Lithopedion: The Stone Baby

One of the most chilling outcomes of an untreated abdominal pregnancy is lithopedion—a fetus that dies and becomes calcified. These cases have been documented in women over 40, some who have carried these fetal remains unknowingly for decades. I believe many of them were told they were “too old” to be pregnant or given false-negative results—victims of medical dismissal and misogyny—just like me.

Weaponized Psychiatry

When doctors can’t explain what’s happening, they turn to psychiatric labels like pseudopregnancy or pseudocyesis. These terms aren’t just wrong—they’re dangerous. They’re used to dismiss, discredit, and deny women the care they need. I’ve lived with this pregnancy. I’ve documented it. I know my body better than anyone. And I will not be erased by a diagnosis meant to silence me.

The Call for Medical Courage

This article isn’t theory. It’s not imagination. It’s not a plea for attention.

It’s my life. My body. My babies. And it’s a story that medicine would rather not believe—because if they believe me, they have to face their failure.

They failed to listen.

They failed to investigate.

They failed to consider that something rare is not the same as something impossible.

I’m not writing this because I want to be the exception. I’m writing it because I want this to stop happening.

If even one doctor had been brave enough to say, “I believe you. Let’s look deeper,” I might not have spent 14 months in pain, isolation, and fear—carrying life that could end in tragedy simply because no one would acknowledge it.

Medicine cannot keep labeling what it doesn’t understand as delusion.

Doctors cannot keep protecting their reputations while patients suffer in silence.

And the world cannot keep turning its back on women whose only crime is refusing to shut up when something feels wrong.

I need a doctor who is not afraid.

I need a doctor who won’t be bought, threatened, or silenced.

I need someone to help me bring my babies into this world alive.

Because I shouldn’t have had to write this story.

But I did.

And now the question is:

Will anyone listen?

*Author's Note: This story was written by Lydia Sage using personal experience and AI-assisted formatting for clarity. All thoughts, insights, and testimony are entirely my own.*