I Became a Surrogate for My Sister & Her Husband — When They Saw the Baby, They Yelled, ‘This Isn’t the Baby We Expected’

What do you do when love turns conditional? When the baby you carried in your womb as a surrogate is deemed ‘unwanted’? Abigail dealt with that heartbreak when her sister and her husband saw the baby she birthed for them and shrieked: ‘THIS ISN’T THE BABY WE EXPECTED. WE DON’T WANT IT.’

I’ve always believed that love makes a family. Growing up, Rachel wasn’t just my little sister. She was my shadow, my confidante, and my other half. We shared everything: clothes, secrets, dreams, and an unshakeable belief that we’d raise our children together someday. But fate had other plans for Rachel. Her first miscarriage shattered her.

A sad woman leaning on a table | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman leaning on a table | Source: Midjourney

I held her through the night as she sobbed with grief. The second miscarriage dimmed the light in her eyes. By the third, something in Rachel changed. She stopped talking about babies, stopped visiting friends with children, and stopped coming to my boys’ birthday parties.

It hurt watching her slip away, piece by piece.

I remember the day everything changed. It was my son Tommy’s seventh birthday party, and my other boys — Jack (10), Michael (8), and little David (4) — were racing around the backyard in superhero costumes.

Rachel stood at the kitchen window, watching them with such longing eyes that it hurt to see.

A heartbroken woman standing near the kitchen window | Source: Midjourney

A heartbroken woman standing near the kitchen window | Source: Midjourney

“They’re getting so big,” she whispered, pressing her hand against the glass. “I keep thinking about how our kids were supposed to grow up together. Six rounds of IVF, Abby. Six. The doctors said I can no longer—” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

That’s when her husband Jason stepped forward, his hand on Rachel’s shoulder. “We’ve been talking to specialists. They suggested surrogacy.” He glanced at me meaningfully. “They said a biological sister would be ideal.”

The kitchen fell silent except for the distant shrieks of my children playing outside. Rachel turned to me, hope and fear warring in her eyes. “Abby, would you…” she started, then stopped, gathering courage. “Would you consider carrying our baby? I know it’s asking the impossible, but you’re my only hope. My last chance at becoming a mother.”

A distressed woman looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A distressed woman looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

My husband Luke, who had been quietly loading the dishwasher, straightened up. “A surrogate? That’s a big decision. We should all discuss this properly.”

That night, after the boys were asleep, Luke and I lay in bed, talking in whispers. “Four boys is already a handful,” he said, stroking my hair. “Another pregnancy, the risks, the emotional toll —”

“But every time I look at our boys,” I replied, “I think about Rachel watching from the sidelines. She deserves this, Luke. She deserves to know the joy we feel.”

A woman lying on the bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman lying on the bed | Source: Midjourney

The decision wasn’t easy, but watching Rachel and Jason’s faces light up when we said yes made every doubt worthwhile. “You’re saving us,” Rachel sobbed, clinging to me. “You’re giving us everything.”

The pregnancy brought my sister back to life. She came to every appointment, painted the nursery herself, and spent hours talking to my growing belly. My boys got into the spirit too, arguing over who would be the best cousin.

“I’ll teach the baby baseball,” Jack would declare, while Michael insisted on reading bedtime stories. Tommy promised to share his superhero collection, and little David simply patted my belly and said, “My buddy is inside.”

A pregnant woman holding tiny baby shoes | Source: Unsplash

A pregnant woman holding tiny baby shoes | Source: Unsplash

The time for the baby’s birth arrived. The contractions came in waves, each one stronger than the last, and still no sign of Rachel or Jason.

Luke paced the room, phone pressed to his ear. “Still no answer,” he said, worry etching lines around his eyes. “This isn’t like them.”

“Something must be wrong,” I gasped between contractions. “Rachel wouldn’t miss this. She’s wanted it too much, for too long.”

An anxious man holding a phone in a hospital | Source: Midjourney

An anxious man holding a phone in a hospital | Source: Midjourney

Hours passed in a blur of pain and worry. The doctor’s steady voice guided me through each push, Luke’s hand anchoring me to reality.

And then, cutting through the fog of exhaustion, came the cry — strong, defiant, and beautiful.

“Congratulations,” the doctor beamed. “You have a healthy baby girl!”

She was perfect with delicate dark curls, a rosebud mouth, and tiny fingers curled into fists. As I held her, counting her perfect fingers and toes, I felt the same rush of love I’d experienced with each of my boys.

A newborn baby | Source: Unsplash

A newborn baby | Source: Unsplash

“Your mommy’s going to be so happy, princess,” I whispered, kissing her forehead.

Two hours later, hurried footsteps in the hallway heralded Rachel and Jason’s arrival. The joy I expected to see on their faces was replaced by something else entirely. Something that made my heart stop.

Rachel’s eyes fixed on the baby, then darted to me, wide with horror. “The doctor just told us at the reception area. THIS ISN’T THE BABY WE EXPECTED,” she said, her voice shaking. “WE DON’T WANT IT.”

The words stung like poison. “What?” I whispered, instinctively pulling the baby closer. “Rachel, what are you saying?”

A woman pointing a finger | Source: Midjourney

A woman pointing a finger | Source: Midjourney

“It’s a girl,” she said flatly as if those three words explained everything. “We wanted a boy. Jason needs a son.”

Jason stood rigid by the door, his face twisted with disappointment. “We assumed since you had four boys…” he paused, his jaw clenching. Without another word, he turned and walked out.

“Have you both lost your minds?” Luke’s voice trembled with fury. “This is your daughter. Your child. The one Abby carried for nine months. The one you’ve been dreaming of.”

“You don’t understand. Jason said he’d leave if I brought home a girl,” Rachel explained. “He said his family needs a son to carry on the name. He gave me a choice — him or…” She gestured helplessly at the baby.

A sad woman closing her eyes | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman closing her eyes | Source: Midjourney

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I asked.

“You gave birth to four healthy boys, Abby. I didn’t think it was necessary to —”

“So you’d rather abandon your child?” The words ripped from my throat. “This innocent baby who’s done nothing wrong except be born female? What happened to my sister who used to say love makes a family?”

“We’ll find her a good home,” Rachel whispered, unable to meet my eyes. “A shelter maybe. Or someone who wants a girl.”

The baby stirred in my arms, her tiny hand wrapping around my finger. Rage and protectiveness surged through me. “GET OUT!” I yelled. “Get out until you remember what it means to be a mother. Until you remember who you are.”

An angry woman yelling | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman yelling | Source: Midjourney

“Abby, please!” Rachel reached out, but Luke stepped between us.

“You heard her. Leave. Think about what you’re doing. Think about who you’re becoming.”

The week that followed was a blur of emotions. My boys came to meet their cousin, their eyes beaming with innocence.

Jack, my oldest, looked at the baby with fierce protectiveness. “She’s adorable,” he declared. “Mom, can we take her home?”

Grayscale shot of a newborn baby girl yawning | Source: Unsplash

Grayscale shot of a newborn baby girl yawning | Source: Unsplash

At that moment, looking down at her perfect face, something fierce and unshakeable crystallized in my heart. I made my decision right then and there. If Rachel and Jason couldn’t see past their prejudices, I would adopt the baby myself.

This precious child deserved more than just shelter, more than being cast aside for something as meaningless as gender. She deserved a family who would cherish her, and if her own parents couldn’t do that, then I would.

I already had four beautiful boys, and my heart had plenty of room for one more.

A mother holding a baby | Source: Unsplash

A mother holding a baby | Source: Unsplash

Days passed. Then, one rainy evening, Rachel appeared at our door. She looked different. Smaller somehow, but also stronger. Her wedding ring was gone.

“I made the wrong choice,” she said, watching baby Kelly fast asleep in my arms. “I let his prejudice poison everything. I chose him that day at the hospital because I was scared of being alone… scared of failing as a single mother.”

Her fingers trembled as she reached out to touch Kelly’s cheek. “But I’ve been dying inside, every minute, every single day, knowing my daughter is out there and I abandoned her.”

An emotional woman looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

An emotional woman looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

Tears streamed down her face. “I told Jason I want a divorce. He said I was choosing a mistake over our marriage. But looking at her now, she’s not a mistake. She’s perfect. She’s my daughter, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life making up for those first terrible hours.”

“It won’t be easy,” I warned, but Rachel’s eyes never left Kelly’s face.

“I know,” she whispered. “Will you help me? Will you teach me how to be the mother she deserves?”

Looking at my sister — broken but determined, scared but brave — I saw echoes of the girl who used to share all her dreams with me. “We’ll figure it out together,” I promised. “That’s what sisters do.”

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

The months that followed proved both challenging and beautiful.

Rachel moved into a small apartment nearby, throwing herself into motherhood with the same determination she’d once shown in her career. My boys became Kelly’s fierce protectors, four honorary big brothers who doted on their baby cousin with boundless enthusiasm.

Tommy taught her to throw a ball before she could walk. Michael read her stories every afternoon. Jack appointed himself her personal bodyguard at family gatherings, while little David simply followed her around with devoted admiration.

Watching Rachel with Kelly now, you’d never guess their rocky start. The way she lights up when Kelly calls her “Mama,” the fierce pride in her eyes at every milestone, the gentle patience as she braids Kelly’s dark curls. It’s like watching a flower bloom in the desert.

A woman feeding her little daughter | Source: Unsplash

A woman feeding her little daughter | Source: Unsplash

Sometimes, at family gatherings, I catch Rachel watching her daughter with love and regret. “I can’t believe I almost threw this away,” she whispered to me once, as we watched Kelly chase her cousins around the yard. “I can’t believe I let someone else’s prejudice blind me to what really matters.”

“What matters,” I told her, “is that when it really counted, you chose love. You chose her.”

Kelly might not have been the baby my sister and her ex-husband had expected, but she became something even more precious: the daughter who taught us all that family isn’t about meeting expectations or fulfilling someone else’s dreams. It’s about opening your heart wide enough to let love surprise you, change you, and make you better than you ever thought you could be.

A baby girl sitting against the backdrop of Christmas decorations | Source: Unsplash

A baby girl sitting against the backdrop of Christmas decorations | Source: Unsplash

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Man Divorces Wife After the Birth of Their Fifth Daughter, Accidentally Meets Her Years Later – Story of the Day

Matthew filed for divorce from Anne when she couldn’t give him a son, but he still lived in their house. One day, she met Harry, an old friend from school, and eventually realized how much better she was without Matthew. Years later, Anne accidentally ran into her ex-husband and couldn’t recognize him.

“Oh my God! Harry! It’s so nice to see you!” Anne exclaimed when she accidentally stumbled into her old school friend on the street. She had left her five girls with her mother, a rare break for her, and wanted to get a cup of coffee on the streets of Seattle.

“Anne, it’s lovely to see you too! Hey, would you want to get some coffee and catch up?” Harry answered, and she nodded immediately. They went into the café and chit-chatted until Harry asked about her family.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Oh… that’s actually a difficult subject,” she began.

“Well, raising five children is not easy for anyone,” Harry commented, knowing a bit of her from social media and such.

“Matthew? What are you doing here?” she asked, looking at his uniform and the pretzel tray.

“Yeah, sure. That’s hard. But it’s more than that,” Anne continued. “Matthew changed after the birth of our twins. They’re 9 and they barely speak to their father. I think they’re scared of him.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry said.

“Matthew wanted a boy, and we hoped, but we had two beautiful girls instead. That’s why we got pregnant again and again, but we kept having girls. After our fifth daughter was born, Matthew became another man. He filed for divorce, and I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Anne explained about her husband, her hand wiping the sweat forming on her forehead.

“Wow. That’s rough. But think about this, you’ll be better off without him, right? I mean if he hasn’t been speaking to your eldest girls, then he couldn’t have been the best father to the rest. You already raised them on your own,” Harry encouraged. “And now that I’m in Seattle permanently, I could help. You could move in with me.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Anne’s jaw dropped. She didn’t expect such an offer from Harry, especially since they had just met again after many years. But she knew back in school that he always had a huge crush on her. Still, that offer was too generous and kind. She couldn’t accept it. She changed the subject, and they talked about his successful life.

Meanwhile, things at her house got even worse over the next few weeks. They were divorcing, but Matthew still lived with her, acting like he was single, partying, making noise at odd hours, waking the girls, and being a menace to them.

Anne would talk to Harry all the time, and his offer still stood. But when Matthew decided to bring a girl over to their marital home, Anne was done. She called Harry, packed, and left the house with all the girls.

Their divorce got more complicated when she took Matthew to court to get their big house back. Despite her living in Harry’s house, her soon-to-be ex-husband didn’t deserve to keep their big home. The judge granted her every request based on Matthew’s horrible lifestyle and gave her full custody without question.

Eventually, she and Harry fell in love, and he bought an even bigger home for their family. When she and the girls moved in with him, she put her house up for rent and stopped thinking about Matthew for many years.

***

A year after marrying Harry, Anne had their son, Alan, who was the most beautiful boy in the world, and he had five big sisters adoring him at every moment. Anne couldn’t have been happier.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

More time passed, and one day, she picked Alan up from preschool and decided to drop by the mall to buy him new shoes. The girls were busy with their extracurriculars, so it was only mother and son.

Anne never imagined she would run into Matthew there. He was working at the pretzel shop, in charge of distributing free samples at the mall, and Alan ran up to him asking for some.

“Alan, don’t run away from me like that,” she said to him before catching a glimpse of Matthew’s surprised eyes.

“Anne?”

“Matthew? What are you doing here?” she asked, looking at his uniform and the pretzel tray. It didn’t make sense. Matthew worked in an office as an executive. He earned a decent amount of money. He was required to pay tons in child support, but he never did, and Anne didn’t care. She had more than enough for her girls. But he wouldn’t be able to pay what was required with a minimum wage job at the mall.

“I’m working here,” he said and looked at the boy holding her with one hand and munching on a pretzel with the other. “Is this your son?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Yes, this is Alan,” Anne answered, feeling an intense pride that she had a son that wasn’t his. “He’s Harry’s kid.”

“Oh, nice to meet you, Alan,” Matthew said, looking down and giving the kid a weird look. Of course, it was not Anne’s fault that she gave birth to girls. The sperm determines the gender, and everyone knows that. But Matthew had decided to blame her for years and checked out of their marriage because he wanted a boy, as if gender was important at all.

Luckily, the girls now had an actual father figure, thanks to Harry, who loved them dearly from the first moment they met. They didn’t need him, and Anne never had to see him.

“Listen, Anne. I didn’t want to ask this now. I wanted to take you to coffee or something. But I’m desperate. I lost everything due to my lifestyle, and I was wondering if we could sell our old house,” Matthew asked, his head down in shame.

“Oh… well, it’s currently being rented. But I’ll think about it,” Anne said. “We have to go now. I’ll call you about the house.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

She grabbed Alan’s hand tightly and walked away from the man who didn’t know what he had thrown away. But she was going to be the bigger person. She sold the house and gave him half its worth, although legally, she could keep the entire thing. But something in her gut told her to do the right thing.

Eventually, Matthew asked to see the girls, but none of them wanted that. The twins were teenagers who grew to hate him, and the rest followed their big sisters’ footsteps. Matthew stopped asking about them and stopped calling after a while. They never saw him again. He wasn’t family.

What can we learn from this story?

  • Family is more than just DNA. Matthew didn’t want to be a father to his children, and Harry stepped up for the girls.
  • You might regret your actions. Matthew lost everything, including his high-paying job, and it was clear he regretted what he did, but he couldn’t take it back.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*