It was supposed to be one of the happiest days of our lives—a moment of pure joy after two years of trying, endless doctor visits, and more tears than I could count. Finally, I was pregnant. Everything seemed perfect, as if the stars had finally aligned.
“This is it, my love,” Jerry, my husband, told me. “We’re finally getting our happy ending.”
“I know,” I replied, my heart full. “I can’t wait for our little one to get here and cause some chaos!”
To mark the occasion, we decided to host a gender-reveal party. It felt like the perfect way to share our excitement with family. We hired a local bakery for a cake and gave the ultrasound results to Jerry’s mom, Nancy.
“Don’t worry, Misha,” Nancy assured me. “I’ll handle the cake. I just hope it’s a girl—I’ve always wanted a granddaughter to spoil rotten!”
It felt good to let her be involved, especially since she’d been longing to play a bigger role in our lives since we announced the pregnancy.
My mom helped me prepare the house for the big event. We set up platters of food, tied pink and blue balloons to everything, and created the Pinterest-perfect backdrop with a banner that read, “He or She? Let’s See!” In the middle of it all was a beautiful white cake, ready for the big reveal.
As family members arrived, the room filled with laughter and anticipation. Then Nancy walked in, wearing all black from head to toe—a black dress, black shoes, and even a black scarf. It was unusual, but I chalked it up to her unique sense of style.
When it was time to cut the cake, the excitement was palpable. Phones were out, cameras were rolling, and Jerry held me close.
“Ready, love?” he whispered.
“Let’s do this!” I replied.
The countdown began: “Three… two… one!” We cut into the cake together, expecting to see either pink or blue. But as we pulled out the first slice, it was pitch black inside—no hint of pink or blue, just black.
The room fell silent. My stomach twisted in confusion. Was this a prank? I glanced at Jerry, who looked just as bewildered as I was. Awkward murmurs rippled through the crowd, as no one knew whether to laugh or stay silent.
I scanned the room and found Nancy standing in the corner, crying.
“Nancy, what’s going on?” I asked, my voice trembling.
She dabbed her eyes, clearly distressed. “I’m so sorry, Misha. I didn’t know what else to do,” she said.
“What do you mean?” Jerry interjected. “Why would you order a black cake?”
Nancy hesitated before revealing a bizarre secret she’d kept for a decade. “Ten years ago, I saw a fortune teller with my sister. She told me that if my first grandchild was a boy, it would bring misfortune to our family and make me ill.”
The room collectively gasped. Jerry’s face was a mix of disbelief and anger.
“Mom, you’ve been holding onto this for ten years?” he asked, his patience wearing thin.
“I know it sounds crazy, but I couldn’t shake the fear,” she admitted. “I thought making the cake black might somehow ward off the curse.”
I struggled to process her explanation. It was absurd and heartbreaking at the same time.
“Mom,” Jerry finally said, trying to stay calm, “you let a fraud control such an important moment for us.”
At that moment, Jerry’s cousin Megan, who had been scrolling on her phone, spoke up. “Is this fortune teller J. Morris?”
Nancy nodded.
“She’s a fraud!” Megan exclaimed, showing everyone an article about how J. Morris had been discredited years ago. “Turns out she was just scamming people.”
Nancy’s face crumbled as she read the article. “I’ve been terrified for nothing,” she whispered.
Jerry sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. “Mom, you ruined our reveal because of this.”
Nancy broke down, covering her face with her hands. “I’m so sorry,” she said through sobs. “I never meant to ruin your day—I was just so scared.”
Despite the chaos, seeing Nancy’s raw vulnerability made it impossible to stay angry. I walked over and held her hand. “It’s okay, Mom. Now we can move on from this and enjoy the pregnancy together.”
“Wait,” Jerry asked, his voice lighter. “Does this mean we’re having a boy?”
The room erupted in nervous laughter. Even Nancy managed a small smile.
In the end, we all had a slice of the black cake, knowing that while it wasn’t the reveal we imagined, it was certainly memorable.
It wasn’t perfect, but there was laughter, relief, and the knowledge that we’d soon meet our baby. And that was all that mattered.