She Lost Her Sight Giving Birth

For a long time, I had my own quiet opinion about surrogacy.

In my head, I felt like surrogacy was for women who genuinely couldn’t carry their own children. Like, if nothing was medically wrong, why would you choose another woman to carry your baby? I never posted about it. I never argued with anyone. But in my mind, I had already formed a conclusion.

And that’s the honest truth.

Then a few days ago, something shifted.

I met a woman who is blind. We were just talking normally, nothing serious. And she mentioned she had not always been blind.

That made me pause.

She said she lost her sight after complications from childbirth.

I didn’t even know what to say.

Then she said, “If I had known I was going to go blind trying to have a child, I would have chosen surrogacy.”

That sentence stayed with me.

Because suddenly this wasn’t theory. It wasn’t debate. It wasn’t social media. It was a real woman sitting in front of me who paid for motherhood with her sight.

And I realised I had never really sat with how serious pregnancy can be for some women.

Yes, pregnancy is beautiful. Yes, it’s natural. But it’s also heavy. It changes your body. It can affect your health. And sometimes, it takes something from you that you don’t get back.

I’ve had my own challenges. I’ve seen friends struggle. I’ve read statistics. But I had never felt it like that before.

And I had to admit something to myself.

I had judged.

Maybe not loudly. Maybe not publicly. But in my heart, I had.

Sometimes women are not choosing surrogacy because they’re lazy.

Sometimes it’s not about avoiding the process.

Sometimes they’re scared.

Scared of complications.

Scared of family history.

Scared of becoming another story.

I went home that day and I was quiet. Really quiet.

Not angry. Not defensive. Just thinking.

Because I started asking myself, what else have I quietly believed without fully understanding? What other silent conclusions have I carried just because they made sense to me?

For me, this is what maturity looks like.

Being able to say, “I didn’t see it fully before.”

Not defending the old opinion. Not justifying it. Just admitting I had a blind spot.

And letting that change me.

I don’t feel embarrassed. I feel awakened.

Because growth is not about pretending you were always right.

It’s about being willing to see differently when life shows you more.

And that conversation showed me more.

So I’m choosing to see better.For a long time, I had my own quiet opinion about surrogacy.

In my head, I felt like surrogacy was for women who genuinely could not carry their own children. Like if nothing was medically wrong, why would you choose another woman to carry your baby? I never posted about it. I never argued with anyone. But in my mind, I had already formed a conclusion.

And that’s the truth.

Then a few days ago, something shifted.

I met a woman who is blind. We were just talking normally, nothing deep. And she mentioned that she had not always been blind.

That made me pause.

She said she lost her sight after complications from childbirth.

I was quiet.

Then she said, “If I had known I was going to go blind trying to have a child, I would have chosen surrogacy.”

That sentence did something to me.

Because suddenly this wasn’t theory. It wasn’t social media debate. It wasn’t opinion. It was a real woman sitting in front of me who paid for motherhood with her sight.

And I realized, I had never really sat with the severity of what pregnancy can cost some women.

Yes, pregnancy is beautiful. Yes, it’s natural. But it is also serious. It changes your body. It can strain your health. And sometimes, it can take something from you that you never get back.

I’ve had my own challenges. I’ve seen friends go through things. I’ve read the statistics. But I had never really felt it like that before.

And I had to be honest with myself.

I had judged.

Maybe not loudly. Maybe not publicly. But in my heart, I had.

And sometimes growth is just admitting that.

Sometimes women are not choosing surrogacy because they are lazy.

Sometimes it’s not about avoiding the process.

Sometimes they are scared.

Scared of complications.

Scared of family history.

Scared of becoming another story.

And now? I get it differently.

I no longer judge women who choose surrogacy.

I went home after that meeting and I was quiet. Deeply quiet.

I felt hurt. Not at her. At myself.

Because I realized I had carried a judgment in my heart without fully thinking it through. And I’m someone who prides myself on thinking deeply. On caring. On advocating for women. And yet, here I was, holding an opinion about something I had never fully unpacked.

It made me start asking myself: what else have I carried quietly in my heart that I’ve never said out loud? What other silent judgments have I formed without fully understanding people’s realities?

Because for me, this is what maturity looks like.

It’s being able to say, “I didn’t see it fully before.”

It’s not defending yourself. It’s not pretending you were always right. It’s just admitting you had a blind spot.

And this was one of those moments for me.

One of those moments where you go home and start unpacking your own heart.

And I think that’s growth.

Just choosing to see better.