I decided to sell my wife’s car five months after she passed. But when I opened the glovebox to clean it… I found a secret that took my breath away…

Her condition kept declining. Her body got weaker. She slept more, talked less, until one morning I woke up beside her, and she was just gone with no goodbye or last words.

She slipped away in her sleep. Losing her felt like losing the air in the room. The funeral came and went.

People were kind. They brought food. They hugged me.

They said things like, she’s in a better place, or at least she’s not in pain anymore, and I nodded and thanked them. But none of that helped, because the pain didn’t end with her suffering. It just moved into me.

After the burial, everyone else got to return to their routines. But I came home to the same house, the same silence, the same bed where she used to sleep beside me. Everything reminded me of her.

Life didn’t just feel different, it felt broken, and I didn’t know how to fix it. Before everything that happened, Nancy and I were married for five years, and before that, we had one of those on-and-off kinds of relationships. You know the type.

Some years we were inseparable, other times we needed space, thought we were better off as friends, then somehow always found our way back to each other. Looking back, I think those early days helped us understand each other more deeply. We knew each other’s flaws, fears, and soft spots long before we said, I do.

So when we finally made it official, I believed we had something tested and real. But that didn’t mean the entire duration of the marriage was easy. We had our rough patches.

We argued, sometimes over small things, and sometimes over things that felt too big to fix. But no matter how hard things got, we always circled back to each other. I didn’t think of our marriage as perfect, but I thought it was honest.

One of the biggest trials we faced as a couple was trying to have children because we wanted to be parents. That was something we both dreamed about early on, but our reality turned out to be very different from our plans. We lost two pregnancies to miscarriage, and the third ended in a stillbirth.

It broke us in quiet ways. We both grieved differently. Eventually, after that third loss, we decided to get medical tests done.

That’s when we found out what had been causing it all. Nancy had something called antiphospholipid syndrome, APS for short. It’s an autoimmune disorder where the body’s own immune system attacks normal proteins in the blood.

In her case, it caused blood clots that blocked blood flow to the fetus during pregnancy. It was the reason we kept losing our babies. That diagnosis hit us hard.

Nancy didn’t cry in front of the doctor. She acted strong until we got home. She curled up on the couch that night and just broke, and I didn’t have the right words.

I just sat there holding her and feeling helpless at the same time. After that, we made the decision to stop trying for biological children. It wasn’t really a discussion.

We both knew we couldn’t go through another loss like that again. At one point, we started talking about adoption. We even looked at some agencies online, but every time we got close to taking the next step, we couldn’t agree on the process…