My Husband Asked Me to Be a Surrogate Twice Until I Learned Why He Really Needed the Money

about it was heavier. The nausea came back sharper. My back throbbed by noon. The swelling in my legs turned walking into something that felt like moving through wet cement. I lay awake most nights while Ethan slept in the guest room, a migration that had begun with “I just need better rest” and had become, within weeks, permanent.

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