I Became a Surrogate for My Brother – When He Came to the Hospital for His Newborn Daughter, He Looked at Her and Said, ‘I Can’t Take This Baby Home’

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I’m 36, a single mom. My son Gabriel is seven, and he’s the loudest, kindest little human I’ve ever met.

It’s been him and me since he was two.

He’s the loudest.

Ryan is my twin. Not just my brother, but my best friend. He’d always supported me, always been there for me. My brother was the one who slept on my couch for a month after our parents died in a car accident five years ago because I couldn’t be in my apartment alone.

He and his wife, Melissa, had been trying for a baby for six years. Two rounds of IVF. One loss at 11 weeks that I don’t think my sister-in-law (SIL) ever fully came back from.

He’d always supported me.

So when they sat me down at their kitchen table last spring and asked if I would carry for them, I didn’t even let Ryan finish the sentence.