My sister and brother-in-law weren’t at the hospital when I gave birth. Hours passed, and still, no sign of them. I delivered a healthy baby girl—my niece—and finally,

they arrived.Rachel glanced at the baby, then back at me, her eyes widening in disbelief. “THIS ISN’T THE BABY WE EXPECTED! WE DON’T WANT IT!” she yelled. I looked at her, stunned. “What?! What do you mean?!”

My sister Rachel struggled to conceive for years. She and her husband spent a little fortune trying to become parents, but eventually,

all those IFV’s ended up with heartbreaking miscarriages that broke my sister’s heart over and over again. It felt like her world collapsed little by little as she could no longer try. And that’s when I came into the picture and agreed to be their surrogate.

The decision wasn’t made lightly, but on the day they asked me to carry their baby, Rachel has already lost her bubbly personality. She withdrew more and more and stopped being around people who had children. She even missed some of my sons’ birthdays and I could no witness her dying inside.

Looking at my boys through the kitchen window as she slipped her fingers around the glass of water, I could feel the love she had for them and I knew she would be the perfect mother if she’ had the chance.

My heart ached for her and her husband, who entered the kitchen at that moment and placed his hand on my sister’s shoulder. He then turned to me and said, “Specialists say Rachel can no longer handle any treatments. They suggested surrogacy…” and the proceeded, “Abby, would you consider being one?” Jason asked.

Then Rachel got closer and took my hands in hers. “You know, Abby, you are my only chance of ever experiencing motherhood. Please take your time to think about the gift you could give me.”

That evening, my husband and I discussed the possibility of me being my sister’s surrogate. Having four boys already meant having a lot on my plate. Another pregnancy could take a toll on my body and my emotions, but watching my sister suffer was overwhelming.