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Sadie agreed to be a surrogate mother for a gay couple who wanted a baby. Thirteen years later, that baby starts seeking her out. Is it too late for them to have a mother-daughter relationship? Contains minor suggestive themes and gore. Sparrowsong 18:02, June 11, 2010 (UTC)

Prologue[]

I screamed, trying to sit up on the stupid white hospital bed, but the nurse wouldn't let me. Ugh, that stupid nurse.

"Noooo!" I wailed, blowing a strand of caramel-blonde hair out of my eyes.

"Hang in there, Ms. Kane," the nurse panted with anxious brown eyes. She was crying a little, too. "Just try and relax, the baby will be out soon." Clearly, she'd never experienced giving birth. Or anything like it.

I just about smacked her, but was suddenly jerked back by more labor pains. Dear gods, when would this end? I could feel the mucus and warm red blood trickling down my legs. That same blood had been peacefully running through my baby's veins for nine months until just now.

My baby. No matter how I looked at it, this was my baby, my firstborn, my very first child. And she wasn't even mine, at least, she wouldn't be once she was out.

Why oh why did I agree to give my firstborn to two men I hardly knew? They seemed like nice guys, and I needed the money - that's why I agreed, but did I really, really want them raising my first child?

I'd never feed this little girl her first bite of solid food. I'd never hear her say her first word. I'd never be told "I love you, Mommy."

I'd never change her diaper, pick out birthday and Christmas presents and watch her eyes get huge as she opened them, or take her shopping for a prom dress. I'd never watch her take her first step.

I'd never congratulate her on going poo in the potty instead of in her diaper. I'd never take her to Disney Land and go on rides together. I'd never teach her to read and write.

I'd never have her sit on my lap. I'd never see that graduation cap and gold star, those high school and college diplomas. She'd never yell to her children that Grandma Sadie was on the phone for them.

I'd never teach her to ride her bike. I'd never braid her hair. I'd never play dolls with her. I'd never plan her birthday party.

I'd never escort her to her first day of school. I'd never see her get an A on her math test. I'd never have "The Talk" with her. I'd never explain to her why she has to wear tampons if she wants to go swimming, or take her shopping for her first bra.

I'd never help her pick out a wedding dress. I'd never get to watch her wedding and sob tears of joy at being the mother of the bride. I'd never...I'd never...

Instead, two guys I barely knew at all would. Yeah. I was going to miss out on a lot. My pessimistic thoughts were interrupted by the most pressure I'd ever felt.

And then...there she was. Underneath the blood, her skin was pale, and her hair was brown. She turned her little head and looked at me through blue eyes, just like mine. Then the doctors scooped her up and went to wash her off, and that was the last time I saw my baby.

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