Surrogacy was NEVER part of my original plan. As the oldest of five siblings, with a type-A personality, I always had a plan—and a backup plan for that plan. I loved making lists, organizing everything, and creating schedules or Excel sheets for just about anything. I even made chore charts for myself and my siblings to help our parents get things done without constantly reminding them. At first, they laughed at me, but soon they were frustrated that I actually tried to play “mom” and enforce the rules.
I did it anyway. I often played mom or second mom to them. Sure, they didn’t always appreciate it—after all, one mom was probably enough—but I know deep down, they secretly loved it. They loved it when their big sister, Jay, came to the rescue. And I loved it too. I loved caring for them, stepping in when they needed help, feeling needed and valued. That sense of purpose—that was what motherhood felt like to me. So, naturally, motherhood became part of my life plan. Well… mostly. There were times I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be a mom or get married at all.
My childhood was full of love, but it wasn’t always stable. My parents separated and reunited multiple times, and each break was painful for me. I took it hard, probably because it fueled my instinct to protect and mother my siblings. I couldn’t understand how people could have kids or get married only to go through so much pain and separation. It was confusing, but my parents always tried their best. They communicated with us, and we always had what we needed—and often more.
I just loved my family so much and wanted us to always stay together. Eventually, my parents worked things out and remarried when I was ten (1999), and that marriage lasted until my second year of college (2008). Even now, they remain friends and wonderful parents. During those “perfect years” of stability, we had a cozy house in a nice neighborhood, which meant no more moving and the chance to attend one school consistently. For the first time, I could make real friends. One of them lived right around the corner, and that friendship opened my eyes in a new way.
When we were twelve, she shared her story with me—she was a foster child, longing to be adopted, but realizing her chances were slim as a teenager. Her honesty and vulnerability tugged at my heart in a way I had never experienced. It planted a seed, and adoption quietly became part of my life plan.
Fast forward a few years—at seventeen, I met Carlos, the kindest, most determined young man. He won my heart, and by the time we were nineteen, we were dreaming together about our future. Like me, he wanted children. I shared my heart about adoption, and his response confirmed everything: he just wanted to build a family with me, no matter how it came to be.
Our early years together were full of growth and challenges. We navigated our parents’ divorces, health struggles, career changes, and life transitions, while also serving together in our church. We became best friends, supported each other through college, and eventually got engaged. Carlos and I married in May 2014 at the beautiful Tennessee Gardens in Redlands, California, still dreaming about our future family. We decided to try for our own children first, then adopt.
Our first daughter, Melody Moran, arrived on January 7, 2017, and she was everything we dreamed of. Holding her in my arms for the first time was transformative. I had learned so much about how miraculous and intricate creating life truly is. It’s a beautiful process, but also complicated. Not everyone can conceive easily, and that reality struck me deeply. I thought, Everyone who wants this should experience it somehow.
Around that time, I read about a woman who became a mother through surrogacy, and an idea sparked. I spent the first two months of Melody’s life pondering it. I shared the idea with Carlos, but he was hesitant, and I hadn’t done much research yet. And just as we were navigating that conversation—SURPRISE! Baby number two was on the way. On December 16, 2017, Mikaela Moran was born, giving us our “Irish twins.”
During my second pregnancy, I explored surrogacy more deeply and revisited the conversation with Carlos. He supported the idea but admitted he wasn’t sure how he’d feel about seeing me carry another family’s child. We didn’t push it—our discussions remained gentle and on-and-off as life went on. About six months later, our third baby, Marcela Moran, was on the way—planned, as we had always hoped for closely spaced siblings. She was born on August 3, 2019, and completed our family.
By this time, our talks about surrogacy became more concrete. We discussed logistics, family reactions, church community perspectives, and cultural nuances. As a Latina and a Christian leader, I knew surrogacy was uncommon and could raise questions. I wanted to ensure my actions aligned with my faith and my desire to serve others. With prayer, counsel, and reflection, Carlos and I decided surrogacy would become part of our family’s plan. He fully supported me, expressing pride and admiration for the journey I was about to take.
Shortly after Marcela’s birth, we officially began the process in November 2019. Surrogacy was far from guaranteed. I underwent interviews, submitted extensive medical records, passed background checks, and created a profile for intended parents. By January 2020, my profile went live, and the very next day, I got a call—I had a match. A wonderful couple from Spain, who happened to be in town, wanted to meet us. We instantly clicked.
Over the next several months, we navigated medical screenings, mental health assessments, and legal contracts. The pandemic added delays and uncertainty, but by September 2020, it was time. Medications and injections began, and after careful preparation, we set a transfer date: September 22, 2020.
Two long weeks later, we got the confirmation. I was pregnant. Holding that news in my hands, I felt a profound honor and responsibility. My body was entrusted with a baby who had been longed for, wanted deeply, and would be loved unconditionally. I was officially a surro-mama, and the journey opened my heart in ways I had never imagined.
This experience brought healing, challenged me to step out in faith, and reminded me of the importance of loving others through action. Surrogacy wasn’t just a blessing for my intended parents—it was a calling for me. I may not be changing the entire world, but I am changing someone’s world profoundly, and that is enough.
Now, at 35 weeks, I eagerly anticipate welcoming the intended parents from Spain on May 15. After quarantine, they will finally meet their long-awaited miracle in early June 2021. Our hearts are full, our journey has been extraordinary, and we are ready to celebrate life in its most beautiful form.
