The Surrogacy Lie

After three years of marriage, there was still no sign of pregnancy. Lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, I couldn't help but sigh to my husband, Noah Jones, "Maybe we should try IVF?" Noah Jones turned around and took my hand, his voice full of tenderness: "You've worked so hard. If you've made up your mind, I'll support whatever you decide." So, we booked an appointment at the city's best reproductive hospital. Examinations, record-keeping, ovulation induction—every step carried out with utmost care. Fortunately, the first embryo transfer was successful. When the doctor smiled and said the gestational sac was developing well, both Noah Jones and I teared up. Once the news of my pregnancy was out, my best friend Melody Scott was more attentive than anyone. Every morning at seven, I would hear a knock on the door. When I opened it, there she was, always holding an insulated bag filled with fresh fruit. "Bella, eat up!" Melody Scott pressed a bag of fruit into my hands and, like presenting a treasure, brought out a box of blueberries. "I specifically went to the fruit and vegetable wholesale market this morning. The doctor said blueberries contain anthocyanins, which are good for the fetus's eyesight. Our baby's eyes will definitely be big and bright in the future!" I smiled as I took the fruit plate and handed her the lemon water I had prepared earlier. "Thank you for going through the trouble. Come in and rest for a while." At that moment, I truly felt that having such a thoughtful friend was the greatest blessing of my life. In the fourth month of my pregnancy, I suddenly caught a cold, and by evening, my temperature soared to 38.9 degrees. Dizzy and aching, I pulled the fever medicine out of the drawer. Just as I was about to open the package, Melody Scott snatched the box away, her tone sharp and urgent. "Bella, are you crazy? How can you take medicine during pregnancy?" She hid the box behind her back and reached out to touch my forehead. "You're still burning up. Listen to me—drink more hot water, cover yourself with a blanket, sweat it out, and you'll definitely feel better by tomorrow!" I didn't think much of it, believing she genuinely cared about me and the child, so I obediently put the medicine away, drank two large cups of hot water as she advised, and wrapped myself in a blanket to lie down. Noah Jones became especially attentive during that time. He used to come home from work and always collapse on the sofa scrolling through his phone. Now, the moment he walked in the door, he headed straight to the kitchen, making all kinds of nutritious meals for me. At night, when my legs were badly swollen, he would sit by the bed after his shower and massage my legs until I fell asleep. "Thank you for your hard work, my wife." While massaging, he softly said, "Once the child is born, I'll take care of all the housework—you just rest well and be the queen of our home." At that moment, leaning against him and breathing in the faint scent of his laundry detergent, I always felt that life would remain stable and happy forever—that we would become the perfect family of three everyone envied.