At first, I laughed.
But she was serious.
We decided to use the same sperm donor so that our future children would have the same biological father.
After months of medical consultations and tests, we chose a healthy 35-year-old man named Daniel, who had agreed to become a donor.
And then something happened that we had barely dared to believe was possible.
We both got pregnant.
Just three weeks apart.
Our happiness knew no bounds. We shopped for baby clothes together, discussed names, and imagined how our little ones would grow up side by side.
But everything changed during the fifth month of our pregnancies.
One morning, we received a call from the genetics clinic.
The nurse’s voice sounded strangely tense.
“Sarah, the doctor needs to see both of you immediately.”
“Is something wrong with the babies?” I asked.
There was silence for several seconds.
“Please, just come in.”
