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
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
“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
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
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
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
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
“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
“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
“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
“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
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
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
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
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
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
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.
Reba McEntire’s Heart-Wrenching Tribute: Remembering the Day Tragedy Struck 32 Years Ago
Today, Reba McEntire is 68 years old, and she truly deserves all the praise she gets. It feels like she has been part of my life forever, and I still listen to her music several times a week.
However, Reba’s life hasn’t always been easy. This year marks the 32nd anniversary of a tragic plane crash that took the lives of several of her friends.
After breaking into country music in the late 1970s and early 1980s, Reba McEntire was named “best singer” for four years in a row by the Country Music Association. She also has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
But despite her amazing career and success, Reba has faced many personal challenges. In 2022, her mother, Jacqueline, lost her battle with cancer at the age of 93.
“She had a wonderful, full, healthy life and was absolutely ready to go. The cancer might think it won the battle, but we’re giving God all the credit for choosing the time for her to go home,” the country star wrote on social media.
Jacqueline McEntire always dreamed of being a professional country singer, and she was the one who taught Reba to sing, fulfilling her ambitions through her daughter.
“She left knowing how much she is loved, and we all know how much she loved us. We’re all going to miss her, but we have so many wonderful memories,” Reba said.
Reba truly understands what it means to face sorrow and loss.
Thirty-two years ago, on March 16, Reba McEntire lost seven of her band members and her tour manager in a tragic plane crash after a concert.
I remember that day in 1991. I was driving to work and heard about the crash on the radio. My heart skipped a beat when I thought Reba was also on the plane.
But she wasn’t.
Reba and her band had performed in San Diego on March 16, 1991, and were heading to Fort Wayne, Indiana, for their next concert on the tour.
Two planes were waiting at the airport in San Diego. The band members and tour manager flew on ahead while Reba, her husband, and her manager stayed overnight in San Diego.
The first plane tragically crashed just ten miles east of the airport.
Over the years, Reba has often remembered her lost friends.
In a heartfelt interview with Oprah Winfrey in 2012, she talked about the day her band died.
“The tip of the wing of the airplane hit a rock on the side of Otay Mountain, and it killed everyone on the plane,” McEntire told Winfrey.
“When we were notified, Narvel (Reba’s manager) went to meet with our pilot, and he told us what had happened. Narvel came back to the hotel room where I was — it was two or three o’clock in the morning — and he said one of the planes had crashed. I asked, ‘Are they OK?’ He said, ‘I don’t think so.’ I asked, ‘But you’re not sure?’ He said, ‘I don’t think so.’”
Reba had tears in her eyes as she remembered the details of the tragedy.
“Narvel was going room to room with a phone and calling…” she began, pausing as tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry — it’s been 20 years, but it’s just like — I don’t guess it ever quits hurting,” she said. “But I can see that room. I can see Narvel walking back and forth.”
Now, 32 years have passed since the crash. Recently, she shared a photo of her band on Instagram to remember the tragic events of that day.
In 2020, she also paid tribute to her friends.
“29 years ago today, I lost my friends in a plane crash. The timing of Mama’s passing with that anniversary seems appropriate,” she wrote.
“I know they’re all in Heaven together and taking care of each other. Let’s keep finding ways to take care of each other down here on earth and never take one moment with our loved ones for granted.”
Reba’s fans quickly offered their support to the country star. Many sent positive thoughts and prayers.
“Reba, I’ve always loved your music, our shared horse background, and now following you on Insta. Prayers for you and your mother,” one fan wrote.
In 2023, Reba showed once again that she will never forget her friends and still mourns their tragic loss.
“Their love for music and the stage gives us all the strength to go on,” she wrote, sharing a video of the group performing together.
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