I’m a parental rights attorney. I specialize in turning people into clauses on a page. Including my husband. Just now, I created a new folder on my computer. I named it “ELLIS—Maternity Erasure.” A few minutes ago, I was hosting a pro bono legal livestream. The surrogate I’d hired used my husband Grant’s account to declare war on me in the comments. She posted a photo of her pregnant belly, with my daughter’s ultrasound image next to it. She also posted a picture of my husband’s wedding ring, lying on the pillow beside her. Then she asked the entire audience one question: “When the baby is born, who do you think will look more like her mother: me, or Nora?” I didn’t fall apart. I didn’t cut the stream. In front of thousands of viewers, I called my husband and put him on speaker. “Grant,” I asked, my voice calm, “how long has this been going on with Aubrey? How much of our marital assets have you spent on her?” “And did you sign that new hospital b......
