Here’s a 500-word version of your story:
My Husband’s Family Asked Me to Be a Surrogate – but I Had No Idea Who the Baby Was Really For
When my husband’s family first approached me about being a surrogate, I was stunned. It wasn’t something I had ever considered. But they made it seem like a simple, selfless act. My sister-in-law, Emma, had been struggling with infertility for years. They explained that she and her husband, Mark, had gone through countless failed treatments. Surrogacy was their last hope.
At first, I was hesitant. Pregnancy is no small commitment, and I already had two young kids of my own. But the family was persistent, and my husband, Jake, kept telling me how much it would mean to Emma. I couldn’t shake the guilt—if I had the ability to help, shouldn’t I?
After months of discussion, I agreed. The embryo transfer went smoothly, and soon I was pregnant. Emma and Mark were overjoyed, and my in-laws treated me like royalty. They insisted I take it easy, brought me food, and checked in constantly. It was overwhelming but sweet.
Then, small things started to feel… off. My mother-in-law would slip and refer to the baby as “our little one” instead of Emma’s. My father-in-law once joked, “This baby will be a blessing for everyone.” Something about the way he said it unsettled me.
One night, I overheard a hushed conversation between my husband and his parents. I couldn’t make out every word, but what I did hear sent a chill through me:
“She doesn’t know.”
“She’ll find out eventually.”
“Let’s just hope it’s after the birth.”
A sinking feeling settled in my stomach. Who was “she”? What didn’t I know?
Determined to find answers, I called the fertility clinic and requested details about the embryo. The receptionist hesitated, but since I was the one carrying the baby, I had the right to the information.
What I learned shattered me. The embryo was not from Emma and Mark. It was from my husband and another woman.
My heart pounded in my chest as I confronted Jake. He went pale, then tried to explain. His parents had always wanted another child, but his mother was too old. His father had convinced them that this was the perfect solution—using a donor egg and Jake’s sperm to create a baby they could raise as their own.
I was speechless. This wasn’t surrogacy; this was deceit. They had manipulated me into carrying my husband’s child with another woman. Worse, they had planned to take the baby as their own, cutting me out completely.
I felt betrayed in a way I couldn’t even put into words. I had been willing to do something beautiful for Emma, only to find out I was being used in the most horrific way.
I walked out that night, filing for divorce soon after. As for the baby, I made my own choice—one that was truly mine.
And I never looked back.
This version keeps the suspense and emotional weight intact. Let me know if you’d like any changes! 
