{"id":522,"date":"2026-02-26T09:59:13","date_gmt":"2026-02-26T09:59:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/weheartanimals.info\/?p=522"},"modified":"2026-02-26T10:05:38","modified_gmt":"2026-02-26T10:05:38","slug":"after-donating-a-kidney-to-my-husband-i-discovered-he-was-cheating-on-me-with-my-sister-then-karma-intervened","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/weheartanimals.info\/?p=522","title":{"rendered":"After delivering our triplets\u2014two boys and one tiny girl\u2014my husband decided cruelty would be my welcome home gift."},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The day I delivered our triplets felt like crossing a finish line with no air left in my lungs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I remember the ceiling tiles above the operating lights, white and too bright. I remember the tugging sensation, the metallic scent of antiseptic, the doctor saying, \u201cBaby one\u2014strong cry.\u201d Then another voice, \u201cBaby two\u2014breathing.\u201d Then softer, \u201cBaby three\u2014she\u2019s small.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two boys. One girl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Three lives I had carried for thirty-four weeks while my back screamed and my ankles swelled and my body shifted into something unfamiliar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They wheeled me into recovery while my babies went straight to the NICU.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Generated<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The beeping of monitors became the rhythm of my world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Through the glass walls downstairs, I watched them beneath wires and blinking machines. Tiny fists, translucent skin, lungs learning how to be lungs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I thought that was the hardest part.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was wrong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Connor arrived that afternoon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He didn\u2019t rush in like a worried father. He walked in like a man entering a meeting he didn\u2019t want to attend.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Behind him stood a woman I had never seen before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cream blazer.
Glossy dark hair.
A Birkin bag hanging from her arm like a statement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She looked at the room the way someone looks at a hotel suite\u2014temporary, impersonal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Connor didn\u2019t introduce her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He didn\u2019t have to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He dropped a manila folder onto my hospital bed. It slid across the blanket and bumped against my IV line.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSign the divorce papers,\u201d he said flatly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My brain lagged behind the words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI just had surgery,\u201d I whispered. \u201cOur babies are downstairs.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He gave a short laugh, humorless.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cExactly. Three premature infants. Endless bills. And you\u2026\u201d He gestured vaguely at my body, swollen and bandaged. \u201cYou\u2019re not the woman I married.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The woman beside him shifted slightly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis will be easier for everyone,\u201d she said softly, as if offering condolences at a funeral.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I reached for the call button on instinct.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Connor leaned closer, lowering his voice so only I could hear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf you don\u2019t cooperate,\u201d he murmured, \u201cyou\u2019ll leave with nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The word hit harder than the surgery.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stared at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI carried your children,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd I\u2019m done,\u201d he replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He left before I could answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The woman followed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her perfume lingered longer than his presence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two days later, I left the hospital with three car seats and a heart that felt stitched together poorly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My body ached with every step. The nurses had shown me how to hold two carriers at once. A volunteer helped with the third.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I expected Connor to be at the curb.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I took a rideshare home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When we reached the driveway, I noticed the first change immediately.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The lock on the front door gleamed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

New.
Untouched.
Unfamiliar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I tried my key.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It didn\u2019t turn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I tried again, panic rising.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The door opened from inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And there she stood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The woman from the hospital.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Inside my house.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Holding a stack of mail addressed to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh,\u201d she said lightly, lips curving into something that wasn\u2019t quite a smile. \u201cDidn\u2019t Connor explain?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mind struggled to process.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cExplain what?\u201d I asked, my voice trembling as one of the babies began to fuss.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis home belongs to me now,\u201d she replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The world tilted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stepped backward down the driveway, gripping the diaper bag straps.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t\u2014\u201d I began.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She raised a hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou should\u2019ve signed,\u201d she said. \u201cThat would\u2019ve been cleaner.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cleaner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As if eviction were a stain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I turned away and called the only two people whose warnings I had ignored years ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My parents.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI was wrong,\u201d I sobbed when my mother answered. \u201cEverything you said about him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere are you?\u201d she asked calmly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIn the driveway.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStay there,\u201d she said. \u201cWe\u2019re coming.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then she added quietly, \u201cConnor just made a very expensive mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They arrived in under twenty minutes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My father stepped out first, eyes scanning the house like he was assessing a crime scene.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mother walked straight to the door and examined the new lock.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The woman reappeared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis is private property,\u201d she snapped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mother smiled politely.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s exactly why the police will clarify it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My father was already scrolling through county property records on his phone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt was transferred yesterday,\u201d he said. \u201cQuitclaim deed. No payment listed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My stomach dropped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou have no right to question it,\u201d the woman scoffed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot when it\u2019s marital property,\u201d my mother replied coolly. \u201cNot during medical incapacity. And certainly not with a forged signature.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Forged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I hadn\u2019t signed anything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My father enlarged the deed on his screen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The signature resembled mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But it wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The curve of the \u2018E\u2019 was wrong.
The slant of the \u2018l\u2019 too sharp.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou didn\u2019t sign this,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood,\u201d my mother replied. \u201cThat makes this simple.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Simple.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It didn\u2019t feel simple.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It felt catastrophic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Things moved fast after that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mother made three phone calls within minutes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My father contacted the hospital for visitor logs and surgical documentation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I sat in the passenger seat of their car, staring at my babies sleeping in their carriers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow are you doing this so quickly?\u201d I asked weakly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mother looked at me, her expression steady.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m a litigation partner,\u201d she said gently.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My father added, \u201cAnd I prosecuted financial fraud for twenty years.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The pieces fell into place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The calm.
The precision.
The speed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Connor had underestimated the wrong people.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He returned to the house that evening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His confidence faltered when he saw my parents in the driveway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis is unnecessary,\u201d he insisted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt became necessary when fraud entered the picture,\u201d my mother replied evenly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI signed nothing,\u201d I said, louder than I had in days.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou were under anesthesia,\u201d my father added. \u201cAny document executed under incapacity is voidable.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Connor\u2019s jaw tightened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re blowing this out of proportion.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo,\u201d my mother said calmly. \u201cYou are.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The next morning, we were in court.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Emergency hearing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Temporary injunction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The timeline was undeniable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hospital admission.
Surgery.
Recovery.
Deed filed while I was sedated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The judge reviewed the evidence quietly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then looked at Connor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTemporary access to the marital home is restored to the petitioner,\u201d she said. \u201cRestrictions are placed on further transfers.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Connor\u2019s expression cracked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The woman was not present.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Outside the courthouse, he tried once more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLet\u2019s handle this privately,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I looked at my babies sleeping peacefully.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe are,\u201d I replied. \u201cPrivately. And legally.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The settlement came quickly after that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Full custody.
Supervised visitation.
Financial support.
Restoration of property rights.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The forged deed was invalidated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The companion disappeared the moment consequences arrived.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I moved back into the house.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It didn\u2019t feel like victory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It felt like reclamation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That night, sitting in the nursery, watching three tiny chests rise and fall, I realized something important.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Connor thought vulnerability made me weak.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He mistook stitches and swelling for surrender.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He believed humiliation would silence me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instead, he triggered something older than fear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Resolve.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If you had been in my place\u2014exhausted, betrayed, holding three fragile lives\u2014what would you have done?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I know what I did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stopped being afraid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And I started being protected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For a few weeks after the emergency hearing, Connor went quiet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No calls.
No messages.
No surprise appearances.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Silence, I learned, was his reset button.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He believed pressure had to be strategic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He believed he was still ahead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He was wrong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The house felt different when I stepped back inside it for the first time after the lock was changed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It didn\u2019t feel like home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It felt like a crime scene.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The kitchen counters were wiped clean. My framed photos were gone from the living room. The hallway mirror had been replaced.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Erased.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But not legally erased.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mother walked through each room like she was mapping damage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cInventory everything,\u201d she told me. \u201cPhotograph every alteration. We document before we react.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My father crouched by the front door, examining the new lock.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe hired a locksmith without notice,\u201d he muttered. \u201cThat\u2019ll matter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I sat at the dining table with my laptop, babies asleep upstairs in bassinets, and began the quiet process of rebuilding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not emotionally.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Legally.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Connor\u2019s attorney filed his first retaliation a week later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Emergency petition for primary custody.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Claim: I was \u201cemotionally unstable\u201d postpartum and unfit to care for three premature infants.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stared at the paperwork and felt something almost like admiration.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He moved fast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He counted on exhaustion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He counted on hormones.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He counted on shame.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But he hadn\u2019t accounted for my parents.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Or the NICU records.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Or the lactation consultant notes.
Or the home nurse visits.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mother read the petition once.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then smiled faintly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe\u2019s reaching,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In court, his argument unraveled within minutes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The pediatrician testified by affidavit.
The home nurse confirmed consistent care.
The hospital documented my stable mental evaluation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The judge did not look impressed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMr. Whitmore,\u201d she said coolly, \u201cweaponizing postpartum recovery will not be entertained.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Connor\u2019s jaw tightened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He was used to intimidating rooms.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This one wasn\u2019t impressed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The second attempt came through money.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He tried to freeze joint accounts.
Attempted to block access to investment holdings.
Filed motions to delay support payments pending \u201cclarification.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But the forged deed had already damaged his credibility.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The court ordered full financial disclosure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Every account.
Every transfer.
Every \u201cgift.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Birkin wasn\u2019t invisible anymore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Neither were the wire transfers to his companion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Under oath, Connor shifted in his chair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI was under stress,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d my mother replied evenly from counsel\u2019s table. \u201cYou were.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The difference between us was simple.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had been recovering from surgery.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He had been planning exits.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Meanwhile, the triplets grew stronger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ethan and Lucas gained weight steadily. My daughter, Isla, was smaller but fierce. The NICU nurses had called her \u201cthe quiet fighter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At home, the nights were brutal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Three babies meant three feeding schedules.
Three cries overlapping.
Three tiny bodies needing everything at once.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But exhaustion felt different now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It wasn\u2019t fear-driven.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was purposeful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My father installed security cameras around the house without asking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mother updated the estate plan in my name.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou protect what they can\u2019t threaten,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Connor requested supervised visitation after the custody petition failed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The first session took place in a sterile room at a family services center.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He walked in wearing a tailored suit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The babies didn\u2019t recognize him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Isla cried immediately.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ethan turned his face away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lucas slept.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Connor held Isla awkwardly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe doesn\u2019t like strangers,\u201d the supervisor noted calmly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m not a stranger,\u201d he snapped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But presence cannot be retroactive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The final attempt came three months later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It arrived not through court\u2014but through a quiet financial maneuver.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Connor tried to leverage business contacts against me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He contacted a senior partner at Hartman & Lowe\u2014the law firm my mother belonged to\u2014implying conflict of interest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He suggested ethics violations.
Nepotism.
Improper advantage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He underestimated something fundamental.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mother had disclosed her representation immediately.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Every filing was transparent.
Every step documented.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The ethics board responded within forty-eight hours.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No conflict.
No breach.
No leverage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Connor had overplayed his hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The divorce settlement came sooner than expected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He was cornered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not emotionally.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Procedurally.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Full custody to me.
Supervised visitation until further review.
Child support structured and enforced.
Property restored entirely.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The judge looked at him one final time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMr. Whitmore,\u201d she said, \u201cyour conduct surrounding this dissolution has been noted.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That was all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No drama.
No shouting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just record.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Outside the courthouse, reporters waited.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They wanted a story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A betrayed wife.
A wealthy husband.
A scandal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I gave them nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No tears.
No rage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just three babies in a stroller and a steady walk to my car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Connor didn\u2019t follow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Birkin woman was nowhere in sight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Consequences have a way of thinning loyalty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The first night alone in the restored house felt quiet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not hollow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not triumphant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just quiet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stood in the nursery, watching Ethan, Lucas, and Isla breathe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My body still ached.
My stitches still tugged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But I wasn\u2019t fragile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was anchored.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Connor had believed humiliation would weaken me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He believed surgery would silence me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He believed postpartum meant powerless.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What he didn\u2019t understand was this:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had carried three lives simultaneously.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pain did not intimidate me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And neither did he.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If you had been in my place\u2014betrayed, exhausted, holding everything fragile in your arms\u2014what would you have done?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I didn\u2019t choose revenge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I chose structure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I chose documentation.
I chose law.
I chose myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And that choice changed everything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Years later, when people ask about that week\u2014the hospital, the forged deed, the courtroom\u2014I tell them the truth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The hardest part wasn\u2019t what he did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was realizing I had never been powerless.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had simply been unaware of my protection.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He thought bringing a mistress into my recovery room would humiliate me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instead, it revealed him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And once someone shows you who they are that clearly\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You never unsee it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The day I delivered our triplets felt like crossing a finish line with no air left in my lungs. I remember the ceiling tiles above […]<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":530,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-522","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorised"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/weheartanimals.info\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/522","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/weheartanimals.info\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/weheartanimals.info\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/weheartanimals.info\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/weheartanimals.info\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=522"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/weheartanimals.info\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/522\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":547,"href":"https:\/\/weheartanimals.info\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/522\/revisions\/547"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/weheartanimals.info\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/530"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/weheartanimals.info\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=522"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/weheartanimals.info\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=522"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/weheartanimals.info\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=522"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}