White moonlight donated cornea for my son, just to recognize him, but she didn't know that my son was my own.

Husband's childhood friend has an unusual obsession: she enjoys raising other people's sons.

When my son Asher was just a month old, crying every night, she would sleep on the floor of my bedroom, soothing him night after night.

By the time Asher was three months, he always needed to be held. She was exhausted, her muscles strained, yet she never put him down.

When Asher turned one and called out "Mom," she broke down in my husband's arms: "That's my son, my life. It hurts to hear him call me mom. Do you know how hard this is for me?"

I witnessed it all but said nothing.