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- Surrogacy: Gift of life or exploitation?
I always knew I could be a surrogate. I don’t know what it was, but for some reason, I just knew.
As it turned out, it seems that fate had surrogacy plans for me all along. I can’t even remember when it was, but one day, some close friends of my husband and I confided in us that they were going overseas to pursue commercial surrogacy. In an instant I replied that I would do it for them despite not having had a child myself. I don’t think they took me seriously.
Within the year we were both pregnant around the same time. We were pregnant with our own child and our friends had a pregnant surrogate overseas. It was a very exciting time. However, in a cruel twist of fate our friends lost their baby.
Time passed and the laws in NSW began to change. All of a sudden, commercial surrogacy overseas was illegal. That’s when I started to offer again. I offered every time I saw them. I wanted them to know I was truly genuine. I was also still pregnant with our baby. Our friends told me to just get through my own pregnancy and if I still wanted to go ahead, we would discuss it then. So, I did. I had my child and when our friends came to visit me the next day in hospital I told them that I was still in and to get organised.
After being put through the rigorous surrogacy processes and cutting through all the red tape, we were ready to transfer when my baby was around one. The first transfer was unsuccessful but I didn’t feel guilty, I had faith in my body and knew it would nourish and grow a healthy embryo.
Finally, we got a positive!
We reached our first milestone at about seven weeks, a scan to see if the baby had a heartbeat. I was so nervous for them. I just wanted everything to be perfect. And it was.
"We got home and I immediately started to Google. I found encouragement and I found despair. The numbers were not stacked in our favour but I wasn’t giving up hope yet."
Then we reached the day of the 12 week scan. All I was looking for was a heartbeat with the shape of a baby around it. As soon as the image of the beautiful baby appeared on the screen I started searching. Eureka! I found it, a heartbeat, 10 fingers, 10 toes, arms, legs, hurray! I was grinning from ear to ear. We made it, we all made it. However, in my excitement and naivety, I was oblivious to what was seemingly obvious to everybody else. It wasn’t until I heard my intended mother say, “Something’s wrong isn’t it?”, that I had any inclination at all that something wasn’t right.
We were informed that we needed to see the doctor because the numbers didn’t add up. I was a mess. Even more so, when the doctor told us that our mathematical risk factor was 1 in 6 and that if the baby didn’t have anything wrong with it he’d be shocked.
We got home and I immediately started to Google. I found encouragement and I found despair. The numbers were not stacked in our favour but I wasn’t giving up hope yet.
Three days later, we met with our fertility specialist. The only words I remember him saying to me verbatim are; “I hope you know whose baby this is?” Those words will stay in my head forever. Don’t get me wrong, our doctor was a lovely man, he just clearly had no idea the impact that this situation was having on me, the surrogate. Of course I knew whose baby it was. I had been trusted with life’s most precious gift for someone else, it was an honour.
During counselling we are all asked to discuss the question, ‘how do you feel about medical termination?” My answer was simple and honest. I wasn’t against it, but I didn’t know how I’d feel if I had already seen a fully formed baby, i.e. past 12 weeks.
Next step, a needle into the placenta. I had the intended mother by my side. The specialist explained to us that if there was a problem it would either be T18 or T13. But then he also said words that to this day I don’t agree with. “At least if it is T18 or T13 there is no decision to be made, you will terminate.”
Two days later and our worst fears were confirmed. My intended mother was holding it together better than I was.
Cue Dr Google. I felt like I had to find the one miracle baby. I mean, I had to make the decision, for the fate of our friends’ baby. In what other situation does a friend get to decide, whether their friends’ baby lives or dies? I know it’s not that simple, but when we peel it all back, that’s what I was doing, deciding whether to end the life of an unborn baby, that wasn’t mine. The idea of the termination also filled me with fear.
"We had just been to hell and back together and for some people the weight of that would be too much for the friendship to bear. For us, it bought us closer and I’d do it all again for them in a heartbeat."
We saw the specialist the next day and the appointment was booked. My intended mother picked me up to take me in to terminate the pregnancy. On the way there, I told her how I felt. I told her that I couldn’t go through with it if it was my own baby. I could see that this upset her. I explained to her that I wasn’t going to run away and I was going to go ahead but I needed her to understand how I was feeling in that moment.
We arrived and I was eventually called in. I was crying up until the point when they knocked me out. I actually welcomed it. I didn’t want to feel the emotion anymore. I didn’t want to feel the pressure that maybe I was making the wrong decision. I just didn’t want to feel. When I came to, it was all done and my intended mother came straight to my side.
It was over.
We had just been to hell and back together and for some people the weight of that would be too much for the friendship to bear. For us, it bought us closer and I’d do it all again for them in a heartbeat.
Having children and our surrogacy journey has made me a better person. I’ve experienced personal growth beyond what I could have imagined. I have now suffered the pain of infertility using my own body but have also experienced life’s greatest gift in my own two children. This perspective just makes me want to do surrogacy more. I just want to turn that pain that I’ve now felt into the sheer joy that I live every single day, for another deserving couple.
