Got it! You want me to re-type the story "Surrogacy - Worst Mistake" again, but this time with a very thorough and extensive edit.
I will focus on:
* Removing awkward/incorrect sentences and replacing them with clear, natural-sounding prose.
* Replacing less precise words with more impactful and descriptive vocabulary.
* Improving sentence structure, flow, and pacing significantly.
* Ensuring the emotional impact is stronger and the narrative is more compelling.
* Making sure the language is polished and sophisticated, as if written by a professional.
I will read through it section by section and rewrite it for you. This wil
They were a couple seemingly blessed with happiness, their lives intertwined in a love that felt immeasurable. Yet, paradoxically, time for each other was a luxury they rarely afforded. Their bond, however profound, was about to face its ultimate test. Would their love endure, or would it simply unravel?
The genesis of their marital dilemma began the day Mr. John and Mrs. Grace, this beautiful couple, decided to have children. Both were workaholics, titans in their respective fields, leaving precious little time for the intimate act of procreation, let alone the demands of parenthood.
Mrs. Grace, in particular, was driven by her career. The thought of pregnancy meant interrupting her crucial internship, a professional setback she simply couldn't tolerate. Her ambition soared, eclipsing all other considerations.
However, the relentless pressure from both her own family and her in-laws was suffocating. Their expectations, a constant, nagging refrain, had left her weary, worn down by an endless cycle of excuses.
One evening, Mrs. Grace decided it was time to address the elephant in the room. She approached her husband.
"Darling, are you busy?" Mrs. Grace inquired, her voice soft, tentative.
"Never too busy for you, my love," Mr. John replied, turning from his laptop with a warm smile. "How can one ever be truly busy when you're around?"
Mrs. Grace settled onto the bed beside him. Mr. John's expression subtly shifted, a flicker of curiosity replacing his relaxed demeanor. It was typically he who initiated serious conversations; her directness now intrigued him.
They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before Mr. John gently prompted her. "You wanted to talk, sweetheart?"
"Yes," Mrs. Grace affirmed, her gaze distant. "But I don't quite know where to begin."
"Start anywhere," Mr. John encouraged, his tone calm and reassuring. "It feels like this conversation has been a long time coming."
A small smile touched Mrs. Grace's lips. "You always read me so well, darling. You always know what I'm thinking." She took a deep breath. "It's about us having children."
"Goodness!" Mr. John exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "How did you know? I was just thinking about it. The pressure from our mothers, it's becoming unbearable."
"My greatest love is my work, John," she confessed, her voice thick with emotion. "Oh, I know I promised myself I wouldn't say it aloud, but I simply can't imagine balancing a baby and my career right now."
"It's all going to be fine, my love," John reassured her, pulling her closer. "We'll find a way. I understand how much you value your internship, and how important our financial stability is. We'll navigate this together. Don't worry." He held her hand tightly, offering comfort as she leaned into him for what felt like hours.
Suddenly, Mrs. Grace sat upright, her eyes alight with a newfound idea. "I have an idea!" she exclaimed, turning to Mr. John with a hopeful smile. "I don't know if you'll love it, but if you do, just trust me. It's... surrogacy."
"What?!" Mr. John's voice was barely a whisper, laced with disbelief.
"I know you might not love the idea," she quickly clarified, sensing his shock. "No, no! I didn't mean to imply you wouldn't love it. It's just... a big surprise, isn't it?"
Mrs. Grace held his hand, her gaze pleading. "So, you love the idea?"
After a long pause, Mr. John finally murmured, "Yes."
But he didn't love the idea at all. He couldn't bring himself to deny her, knowing it would crush her spirit. And perhaps, he thought, his family wouldn't even need to know, making it easier to accept.
Mrs. Grace, anticipating his unspoken concerns, said, "They don't have to know, unless you tell them. With no official documentation or formal agreement, what could possibly go wrong?" she reasoned, a touch of naiveté in her voice.
As time progressed, they committed to the plan: they would have one child via surrogacy, with the intention of having another later.
They visited the hospital where Mr. John's trusted friend, Mr. Dan, worked as a doctor. "Doc," as everyone affectionately called him, was a man of integrity and a loyal confidant – the ideal person to oversee such a delicate arrangement.
Within a few weeks, they met the surrogate. She would carry Mrs. Grace's egg and Mr. John's sperm. It was a significant undertaking, and she was compensated handsomely. The couple offered her ₦6 million, plus ₦200,000 every two weeks during the pregnancy, not including all medical expenses. She was encouraged to ask for anything else she needed, demonstrating their apparent generosity.
The surrogate was also named Grace. She was beautiful, healthy, and possessed an undeniable charm, a complete package in every sense, though unmarried. Despite the shared name, she didn't mind being referred to simply as "the Surrogate," or even occasionally as "Mrs. John."
Initially, Mrs. John (Grace) took meticulous care of the Surrogate. However, as the pregnancy advanced and became more physically demanding, it grew increasingly difficult for her to maintain that level of attention.
As soon as the baby was born, Mrs. Grace dedicated most of her time to the newborn. The Surrogate, however, struggled to adjust to the family dynamics. To ease the transition and manage the household, a nanny was hired specifically to care for the child.
They named their son Omar, adding "Bright" to signify a strong, hopeful future. But tragically, Omar began to perceive the Surrogate, who had now transitioned into the role of the nanny, as his mother, primarily because Mrs. Grace, absorbed in her professional life, simply wasn't present enough. By the time Omar was three, the emotional distance between him and his biological mother was palpable.
Mr. John began to press his wife about having their second child. He himself was considering a relocation for work, which prompted Mrs. Grace to seek a new, equally demanding job.
Her family life, once her pride, was now suffering from her constant absence. She would return home, exhausted, only to find her husband increasingly bonded with Omar, while their son knew her more as "Auntie" than "Mom."
Desperate to bridge the growing chasm, she pleaded with her husband once more, "Perhaps this time I could carry the child myself. We could even allocate more resources to caring for our family. My job has driven me away from all of you."
But his response was final. He dismissed the idea of more children, stating that their initial agreement, sanctioned by their in-laws, was intended to curb her overzealous ambition and focus on their marriage.
Mrs. Grace had always maintained that she would never cease working, preferring her financial independence over the role of a traditional housewife. This fierce independence, paradoxically, was one of the many qualities Mr. John had admired and loved in her.
A few years later, fate dealt them a cruel hand. Mr. John's business crumbled, leaving him bankrupt and impoverished.
He desperately sought new opportunities, but securing a job proved almost impossible. All their savings were depleted, and the meager salaries he eventually earned were barely enough to keep them afloat week to week.
In this downturn, however, a new bond formed. He started spending more time with his children, fostering a deep connection he had previously missed.
All the love and happiness that Mrs. Grace had missed out on during her years of relentless work suddenly became her everything.
One day, she returned home, utterly exhausted, only to find the house empty. Her husband, the children, even the nanny—all gone.
She called them, a rising panic in her chest, and found out they had simply gone for ice cream. The relief was immense, but as she hung up, a wave of profound sorrow washed over her. She broke down in tears. All her aspirations for her family, once meticulously planned, had been consumed by her single-minded pursuit of work. In that very moment, she made a definitive decision: she would dedicate more time to her family. Thankfully, her current position allowed her the flexibility to work as the boss from anywhere; it was a good company after all.
She turned to step inside when the doorbell chimed. Her husband and son stood there, accompanied by the housemaid, Nanny.
They entered, all beaming. Mrs. Grace smiled at her son, her heart aching with longing. She tried to pick Omar up, but he stiffened, refusing her embrace.
Mr. John gently rubbed her back, a silent reassurance. "Don't worry, he's just being a child."
Then, a faint, sweet scent enveloped Mrs. Grace, originating from her own breath and body. She leaned in slightly as her husband and Nanny bowed their heads towards her chest, a subtle gesture that puzzled her.
She went to bed, trying to catch her husband's attention, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts. She gently tapped his shoulder and held him close. He looked at her, his expression unreadable.
"Why, Mrs. Grace? Come on, I'm not in the mood," she heard him say, his voice flat.
"From you, I get it. You don't think I'm beautiful anymore. That's alright," she replied, a sudden sting of sadness in her voice. She rose and put on her nightgown. "And by the way, I think I'm pregnant! What?!"
Mr. John's jaw dropped, utterly stunned. Mrs. Grace didn't wait for a reply. She walked to the bathroom, shedding her nightgown. Then, grabbing the pillow from her side of the bed, she left the room.
Mr. John didn't follow her. He hoped she would cool off by morning, and then they could talk.