And my day hole for forcing my son to call me mom.

Oh, here's a good one.

Okay.

This is a meaty one.

When my husband and I wanted a child, we decided to pursue surrogacy instead of a traditional

pregnancy.

It was a hard decision that took a lot of late night talks and fighting because he wanted

to be involved in the pregnancy and everything.

But I was terrified of PPD, postpartum depression, the postpartum body and all the morning

sickness that came with it.

Finally, we went through an agency to find a suitable gestational carrier, otherwise

known as a human being.

I'd like to think we were pretty involved throughout the pregnancy process and we somewhat

befriended the carrier.

Befriend the carrier.

Nowadays we're not close by any means, but we send each other birthday and holiday

wishes and such.

Tuesday, my son found out about the surrogacy.

It wasn't really a secret by any means, but the topic just never came up.

He was talking about how he learned about an symbology, how he thought it was weird.

I told him no, it's completely normal, and that he came from a surrogate.

I didn't think it would be that big of a deal, but for the next few days he started

...