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.

I Accidentally Grabbed the Wrong Luggage at the Airport — What I Saw Inside Made My Jaw Drop

I Accidentally Grabbed the Wrong Luggage at the Airport — What I Saw Inside Made My Jaw Drop
When Clara realizes she has grabbed the wrong suitcase at the airport, she doesn’t expect anything unusual. But as she opens it, her jaw drops in shock. Among the clothes lies a mysterious envelope that will change everything.

“Bella, make sure you grab the right one,” I called out, half-jokingly.

“Don’t worry, Clara,” Bella laughed. “I know which one’s mine.”

A woman standing near a car with her luggage | Source: Pexels

A woman standing near a car with her luggage | Source: Pexels

I never thought a simple suitcase mix-up could lead to such an emotional rollercoaster. It all started at my parents’ house.

Mom’s birthday weekend was lovely. My sister, Bella, and I had a great time catching up with our parents. But now, it was time to head back to reality.

A woman walking on the sidewalk with her luggage | Source: Pexels

A woman walking on the sidewalk with her luggage | Source: Pexels

We were in the front yard, stuffing our suitcases into the trunk of our Uber.

Our identical suitcases, I should add.

Mom had gifted us these suitcases many Christmases ago, and it had never been a problem… until that day.

Two suitcases beside a plant | Source: Pexels

Two suitcases beside a plant | Source: Pexels

Mom came out to wave us off, a warm smile on her face.

“Safe travels, girls. Call when you get home.”

A young woman kissing an older woman on the cheek | Source: Pexels

A young woman kissing an older woman on the cheek | Source: Pexels

“Do you have everything? Tickets, phones, chargers?” Dad asked, helping us load the luggage.

“Yep, all set!” I said, giving him a quick hug.

Bella and I got into the car, and as we drove off, I felt a familiar pang of sadness.

A smiling woman looking out a car window | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman looking out a car window | Source: Pexels

Leaving home always made me a little nostalgic. After I moved out, college barely gave me any free time. So now my visits to Mom and Dad’s were limited to holidays and special occasions.

I cherished those rare moments, whether it was Thanksgiving, Christmas, or just a random weekend when I could break away.

A family enjoying a Thanksgiving dinner | Source: Freepik

A family enjoying a Thanksgiving dinner | Source: Freepik

“I wish we could stay longer,” I sighed, staring out the car window.

“I know,” Bella agreed. “But we’ll be back soon. Cheer up!”

A woman looking out the car window | Source: Pexels

A woman looking out the car window | Source: Pexels

We chatted about the weekend and our plans for the next visit. Bella and I live in different states, and we were already excited about our upcoming visit.

The drive to the airport was smooth, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of already missing home.

An airport | Source: Pexels

An airport | Source: Pexels

Finally, we reached the airport, checked in, and went our separate ways to catch our flights. I arrived back at my apartment later that evening, exhausted but content.

As I opened the suitcase in my living room, expecting to see my clothes neatly packed, I froze.

An open suitcase | Source: Pexels

An open suitcase | Source: Pexels

Staring back at me were Bella’s shoes and clothes. I plopped down on my couch, chuckling about the suitcase mix-up.

I started pulling out clothes and shoes, realizing these were all Bella’s things. “Typical,” I muttered, shaking my head.

But then, something else caught my eye.

A woman looking at clothes on a hanger | Source: Pexels

A woman looking at clothes on a hanger | Source: Pexels

An envelope lay nestled between Bella’s clothes.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw the familiar handwriting: “Open When Clara Is Not Around!”

It was unmistakably Mom’s handwriting.

A person writing on an envelope | Source: Pexels

A person writing on an envelope | Source: Pexels

With a deep breath, I opened the envelope.

“What the…?” I whispered as I saw what was inside.

I sat back and stared at the envelope, memories flooding my mind.

A woman opening a gray envelope | Source: Pexels

A woman opening a gray envelope | Source: Pexels

Just a few days ago, I had asked my parents for help with buying a new car.

They had shaken their heads, saying they were low on money and believed I could handle it since I was an adult. I had accepted it, even though it hurt a bit.

A white car on display in a showroom | Source: Pexels

A white car on display in a showroom | Source: Pexels

Then, I remembered how Bella had been scrolling online and showed us a photo of a bag she really liked.

She had received a lot of attention for it, and I had brushed it off as a normal sibling thing.

But now that I saw money inside the envelope, my worst fears were confirmed.

A bag and a sandal on display | Source: Pexels

A bag and a sandal on display | Source: Pexels

I have always been insecure that Mom and Dad like Bella more. So if this money was for her, I was right all along.

I paced around my kitchen, the envelope of money sitting on the counter. My mind raced with questions. I had to know what was going on.

Finally, I picked up my phone and called Bella.

A woman using her phone | Source: Freepik

A woman using her phone | Source: Freepik

“Hey, Clara!” Bella answered cheerfully. “Did you get my stuff?”

“Yeah, I did,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light. “Looks like we swapped suitcases. I’ll mail your things back as soon as possible.”

“Same here,” Bella said. “I’ve got your stuff too. I’ll send it out tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” I said, hesitating before bringing up the envelope.

An envelope with cash | Source: Pexels

An envelope with cash | Source: Pexels

“By the way, did you know there was an envelope in your suitcase?” I asked.

There was a brief silence on the other end.

“Envelope? No, I didn’t know about that.”

A woman talking on her phone | Source: Freepik

A woman talking on her phone | Source: Freepik

“I thought maybe Mom put it there for you.”

Bella sounded genuinely surprised. “Really? That’s weird. Maybe Mom sneaked it in before we left. Did you see what it’s for?”

“No, not really,” I lied, feeling uneasy. “Just thought you might know.”

An older woman | Source: Pexels

An older woman | Source: Pexels

“Sorry, sis, I have no idea,” Bella said.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” I said, feeling more confused than ever. “Talk to you later.”

“Later,” Bella said, hanging up.

A young woman using her phone | Source: Freepik

A young woman using her phone | Source: Freepik

I put my phone down and stared at the envelope. Bella sounded clueless, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Was she being completely honest with me?

I decided I needed to call my mom and get to the bottom of this. I had to know what the money was really for and why it was hidden in Bella’s suitcase.

A stressed woman | Source: Pexels

A stressed woman | Source: Pexels

I sat on my bed, the envelope still in my hand, and took a deep breath. Then, I dialed Mom’s number.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Mom answered cheerfully. “How was your trip back?”

“It was fine, Mom,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “I need to talk to you about something…”

“Yes?”

An elderly woman sitting comfortably at home with her gadgets | Source: Pexels

An elderly woman sitting comfortably at home with her gadgets | Source: Pexels

“I found an envelope in Bella’s suitcase with your handwriting on it. It said, ‘Open When Clara Is Not Around!’”

Mom went totally quiet as if she was thinking what to say next.

“Oh, that’s strange,” she said eventually. “What was in the envelope?”

I lost my cool.

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

“Money, Mom! A stack of money,” I said, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I thought you said you didn’t have any money to help me with a new car! What’s going on?”

I could hear her sighing.

“Money? Oh, Clara, I’m so sorry. That envelope wasn’t meant for Bella. It was for you.”

A woman holding dollar bills | Source: Pexels

A woman holding dollar bills | Source: Pexels

“For me?” I repeated, my mind spinning. “But why hide it in Bella’s suitcase? Why not just give it to me?”

“Sweetheart, it was supposed to be a surprise,” Mom explained gently.

“What?”

Mom started explaining what had happened.

A woman smiling and talking on her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman smiling and talking on her phone | Source: Pexels

“Honey, your dad and I wanted to help you get a new car. It was all Bella’s idea that we’ll surprise you. We only remembered at the last moment that we hadn’t given Bella the envelope with our share. She contributed, too. Your dad must have mixed up the suitcases by accident, and well, you ended up with the money.”

“But like, I mean… Didn’t you guys say you were a bit tight on money?”

A red bow on a new car | Source: Freepik

A red bow on a new car | Source: Freepik

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t worry about that. We managed. And it’s only now that I’m getting Bella’s text that I shouldn’t tell you everything! Oh, dear!” she laughed. “Sorry, hun. Didn’t want to hurt you,” Mom continued.

“So, you weren’t giving Bella money for that bag she wanted?” I asked.

Mom chuckled softly. “No, Clara. The money was always meant for you. We wanted to show you that we believe in you and support you, even if we didn’t have much to give at the moment.”

A woman holding a stylish bag | Source: Freepik

A woman holding a stylish bag | Source: Freepik

I didn’t know whether to cry from relief or laugh at the misunderstanding.

“Mom, I’m sorry I doubted you and Bella. I just… I’ve been feeling a bit insecure lately,” I said, feeling like I had been a terrible daughter.

“Oh, honey,” Mom said, her voice filled with warmth. “We love you so much, and we’re proud of you. Bella and I just wanted to make things a little easier for you. Now, enjoy that money and get yourself a nice car. This is for you and only you.”

A happy family | Source: Freepik

A happy family | Source: Freepik

“I will,” I said, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. “I love you, Mom. Thank you so much for this.”

“Love you too, Clara,” she said before we hung up.

I sat there for a moment, overwhelmed with emotions. I had been so quick to assume the worst, and now I felt a mixture of relief and guilt. But more than anything, I felt grateful for my family’s love and support.

I picked up my phone and dialed Bella.

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

“Hey, Bella. I just talked to Mom. Thank you for the surprise. It means a lot to me.”

Bella laughed. “No problem, Clara. We just wanted to help. I’m glad you found the surprise, even if it was a bit mixed up!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I was so stupid to act like that,” I said. “Thanks for everything. Love you so, so much!”

Have you ever ended up in a silly yet heartwarming situation like this?

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