A single father’s thank-you letter to the woman who made my daughter possible—
I made a mistake. Not for the first time, and probably not for the last—but this is the kind of mistake that comes with real guilt. The kind that sits on your chest. The kind that makes you feel like you pushed aside someone important. Someone who gave you everything… and somehow you didn’t give her the place she deserved.
This should have been my very first post.
A post made entirely of gratitude. A post written for one extraordinary woman who chose, out of kindness, to do something unbelievably generous for a man who thought his best days were behind him—and give him the only gift that truly matters.
My surrogate.
Of course, I won’t reveal who she is. Not now, not ever.
But I can still do one thing: say thank you—properly, loudly, with everything I’ve got.
Dear Ravit (a pseudonym)
You’re the one who agreed to carry my baby, at a time when other surrogates preferred to help couples only.
You’re the one who kept calming me down with the same simple sentence, every time I spiraled:
“Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”
You involved your whole family in this journey and made them part of it from the very beginning.
You even welcomed me into your home, so your children could meet the man whose existence meant their mother was about to be pregnant again.
The Delivery Room
You’re the one who insisted I be with you in the delivery room—because you wanted the baby girl who was about to enter the world to be held for the first time in her life by her biological father.
Me.
And not by anyone else.
You’re the one who endured a brutal labor that lasted thirty hours.
The Court, the DNA Test, and the Proof I Didn’t Need
You’re the one who felt my pain when the court rejected my request for a DNA test that would prove my daughter was biologically mine.
And you were the first to celebrate with me when that baby—seconds old—looked so unmistakably like her father.
A Small Confession (and a Monument)
I’m probably the last person anyone would accuse of being sexist.
But for most of my life, I never really “got” International Women’s Day.
I mean—once we start handing out days, where does it end?
Men’s Day. Kids’ Day. Grandpa Day. Dog Day. Cat Day. Donut Day.
But this year, I finally understand one thing:
Some women don’t just deserve a day.
They deserve a monument.
Surrogates.
One Day, Sara Will Ask
It still hurts me, in a strange way, that Sara may never know the woman who gave her life.
Because one day, inevitably, she’ll ask me:
“Dad… who gave birth to me?”
And what will I tell her?
Time will tell.
Maybe I’ll need professional help to find the right words. Words that protect her heart, not just mine.
And yes—I’m admitting it again:
This should have been the first post on my blog.
It wasn’t my first post… but it’s the one I owe the most.
Thank you, Ravit.
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Beyond the Blog
Alongside this blog, I also give talks about late fatherhood, surrogacy, and the emotional journey of becoming a parent later in life.
Read Next
If you’d like to read more about Sara and our life together, here are two more posts you might enjoy:
Sara and Me 
“I don’t usually write reviews — but this post moved me more than I expected. The author’s thank-you letter to his surrogate, ‘K,’ isn’t just honest — it’s deeply human. Every sentence carries gratitude, vulnerability, and a kind of quiet strength that stayed with me long after I finished reading. The way he reflects on fear, love, and what it truly means to become a parent is both heartbreaking and uplifting. I felt honored to read such an open, respectful tribute to a woman whose generosity changed a life. This isn’t just a blog post — it’s a reminder of the power of empathy, courage, and gratitude. I’ll be thinking about this one for a long time.”
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“What struck me most about this piece is its restraint. Instead of sentimentality, the author chooses clarity; instead of drama, precision. This is a rare kind of gratitude—one that doesn’t perform emotion, but earns it. The post reads less like a personal confession and more like a carefully written ethical reflection on surrogacy, responsibility, and human connection. By addressing ‘K’ directly, the writer manages to keep her dignity intact while revealing his own transformation. It’s thoughtful, unsettling at times, and quietly powerful. A piece that respects both its subject and its reader.”
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This post stayed with me long after I finished reading it. The way the author talks about surrogacy not as a miracle but as a deeply human act — someone who carried hope and fear together — is rare and honest. I was struck by the line about feeling his heart swell with gratitude each time he saw her name, and how he describes the moment K said yes as something divine that reshaped his understanding of family.
What makes this piece special is its refusal to sugarcoat the complexity of the experience. He doesn’t just thank her; he acknowledges the weight of what she gave, and the unpredictable blend of shame, admiration, and awe he felt watching her walk into the room on that first morning. His ability to hold these conflicting emotions without collapsing into cliché is what makes the writing feel so authentic.
This is not a simple thank-you note — it’s a reflection on courage and transformation that left me thinking about it for days.
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