Friday, January 2, 2026

πŸ’Œ A Letter to Ru and Miguel

 Author’s Note:

This post is shared at the same hour the first of the triplets entered the world eighteen years ago. Writing these words feels like closing a sacred chapter — one that began with faith, grew through love, and continues to live on in all of us who were part of the journey.



January 2, 2026

Dear Ru and Miguel,

Eighteen years ago, at this very hour, the first of three miracles entered the world. As I write this, I’m mindful of the time — the sounds of the hospital, the anticipation, the prayers — all rushing back as if no time has passed at all. It feels right to share these words now, at the moment everything truly began.

Ru, I still remember the day I received your completed questionnaire. I had read others before yours, but something about your story stopped me. You were single at the time and had tried to adopt, only to be passed over again and again. Reading your words — your honesty, your hope, your deep desire to be a father — moved me more than I can explain.

You once shared how you saw two dads out with three little ones and thought, “Hey… how did you get those?” πŸ˜‚ That moment of curiosity led you to learn about surrogacy, and eventually, your path led to me. I know your file had been passed over before, but when I read it, I didn’t hesitate. I just knew. I knew I wanted to help you. I knew I was the one. It wasn’t logic — it was something settled deep in my heart.

Then, before our third and final IVF attempt, Miguel entered the picture — and I’ll never forget the first time I met him. We were in an elevator, such an ordinary place, yet the moment felt anything but ordinary. Standing there, I felt a quiet certainty wash over me. Without a single word spoken, I knew. God gently whispered reassurance into my heart — this is it. This is exactly how this story is meant to unfold.

When we learned there were three heartbeats, I remember laughing and crying all at once. Not one. Not two. Three. Of course, God went above and beyond. Carrying your babies was one of the greatest honors of my life — every appointment, every kick, every prayer a reminder that something sacred was unfolding.

And then came the day my water broke — though the nurses at Abbott told me it hadn’t. “The tests don’t lie,” they said. πŸ˜‚ But I knew. I knew my body, and I knew something had changed. Chuck texted you, Ru, to let you know I was at the hospital… then texted again saying it was a false alarm because of what the nurses said. Still, I insisted they check again — and I’m so glad I trusted my instincts. The ultrasound confirmed what I already knew.

So Chuck texted you yet again — but by then, you had already booked your flight to Minnesota after that very first message. That moment has always stayed with me. Even before everything was confirmed, you were already on your way. You were already showing up as their dad.

January 2, 2008 is forever etched in my heart. I remember the bright lights, the urgency, and the room filled with three separate teams of nurses — each one ready for a baby. I remember hearing each tiny cry as they entered the world, seeing them for the very first time, and knowing they were safe. I didn’t get to hold them then — something I later realized I wished I had — but even in that moment, my heart was full of peace, knowing they were exactly where they were meant to be.

Years later, when you brought the triplets back to Minnesota so we could reunite, God gave me the gift I didn’t even know I needed — the chance to finally hug them, to see the love that had surrounded them all along, and to witness how beautifully their story had unfolded.

Over the years, I’ve been so thankful for the way you allowed me to remain connected — through photos, updates, and eventually those full-circle moments that reminded me how deeply our lives are still intertwined.

Eighteen years later, I’m still so grateful. Grateful for you — for the way you opened your hearts to this journey, for the path that connected our lives, and for the love that grew from a simple yes. Your family will always be part of my story — a reminder of hope, grace, and the beautiful ways life unfolds.

Thank you, Ru and Miguel, for trusting me, for walking this journey with such grace, and for building a family rooted in love. As your children step into adulthood today, please know how often I still thank God for you and for the privilege of being part of your story.

πŸ’– Happy 18th Birthday to your incredible trio.
What a joy it has been to witness the life and love you created together.

With love and endless gratitude,
A Surrogate Mom (Kerri)

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πŸ’Œ A Letter to Ru and Miguel

  Author’s Note: This post is shared at the same hour the first of the triplets entered the world eighteen years ago. Writing these words f...