The second woman I met was called Grace. As soon as she walked into the room I was astonished by her calm demeanour. She greeted me and flashed her beautiful smile at me. I could see she was a little shy and nervous, as I was too. I warmed to her instantly and couldn’t believe that I was meeting someone who had agreed to carry someone else’s child – potentially my child. I wanted to savour every moment we had together to get to know each other. Deep down I had made my decision to ask her to carry my baby as soon as I had read through her profile but had wanted to wait until I met her first. Some people only get the chance to meet with their potential surrogate on Skype or FaceTime, but I was determined to meet first in person. Grace’s description on paper was so warm that I hoped and hoped that when I finally met her she would be the same as I had imagined. In fact, she was even more amazing. She had one seven-year-old daughter already, born healthy and naturally; she was single, had never married and had helped her friend who’d been a surrogate previously for another family, so she already knew everything that was involved and expected. It was a meeting of two people who had been brought together by the clinic, but we would have been friends, I’m sure, if we had met under different circumstances.
As we chatted in the clinic reception, she was kind and cheerful, and happy to tell me about her life. I bonded with her instantly and she seemed less and less nervous the more we chatted. As we continued to talk, I could imagine her carrying my baby, and I was finding it difficult to contain my excitement at the thought that she could possibly allow me to have the family I so wished for. Her English was good. This was one of my important requests, as I wanted to keep in touch with her through the whole process and, hopefully, the pregnancy. She was so bubbly all through our meeting. She looked so small standing next to me without her shoes on. Her long brown hair was brushed neatly and I had a glimmer of an image of how she might look pregnant.
Grace and I took a photo of us both together as I had with the others. She agreed there and then that she would like to try to be a surrogate for me, and I found myself fighting back the tears. It was so amazing, it was difficult to express this at the time without hugging her really tightly – not something openly encouraged in public in Thai culture. I had really warmed to her, and after our meeting I had a chance to sit with her and chat about my family and show her pictures of everyone. I found this most enlightening about her personality, as she seemed genuinely interested to hear about our family circumstances and where the child would live. This confirmed her as my first choice. I wanted her to carry my baby. We were just sitting together on the sofa in the clinic chatting; my mind was wandering off to a future with Grace maybe being pregnant and I was completely full of joy. I had been planning this all in my head for so long that to actually be discussing timing allowed me to feel really informed about the process, and for that I was very thankful.
I’d made all my decisions and returned to the clinic the very next day to finalise our timeline and plan the implantation of the future embryos with Grace. Then it was time to go back to London for twelve days before returning for the embryo implantation. Grace and I had exchanged numbers and started chatting on Messenger to get to know each other better. I was excited to hear from her every time she messaged me. I felt so glad to have contact and an instant platform to communicate. I felt really connected to her and privileged to be in touch so regularly. She did feel like family, indeed like a sister. I was glad I had chosen her and she had chosen me. We would talk about our day or what we were doing, to keep things simple and get to know each other gradually. No one hands you a book on how to bond with a woman who has offered to carry your baby as a surrogate. I approached subjects such as family delicately so as not to offend, but I wanted to get to know as much as possible so that should the day come when she was carrying my child I would feel comfortable to chat about her feelings around the baby as well as everyday subjects. In reality, every time she sent me a message my heart would light up, even if it was just to inform me of what she was having for dinner or that she was late for work.
At this point I had thousands of legal questions that I needed to get answered, as my circumstances as a gay man were different to a couple having their child overseas via surrogacy. In the forum online, I had read about a lawyer recommended by the clinic. Other than the obvious conflict of interest in using legal representation that the clinic itself had recommended, I was completely comfortable as I had read so many success stories and happily learned how fast the lawyer worked. Once the baby was born, time would be of the essence to get all the paperwork in place to return home. However, at this stage I felt it prudent not to go ahead and complete background checks on both my surrogate and egg donor, or to review the paperwork I had signed, as I had already paid nearly fifty per cent of the cost of the surrogacy. So I sent the lawyer an email to introduce myself and ask him what services he could help me with when the baby arrived. He introduced himself as Roy and via email he guided me very easily through all that would need to be done, providing me with expected timescales. We discussed the legitimation in court of the child, the process of going to court and what this would all entail. Then he advised on what needed to be done at the embassy to secure the child’s Thai passport, once the court proceedings had been successful, and any further court expenses we could expect. He was also able to speak with a colleague to give me the information I needed to obtain the child’s British passport, detailing the visits to the embassy and the DNA test that would be one of the requirements to secure this.
I would write emails to Roy with questions, and he would reply quickly and clearly, thoughtfully putting me at ease that the process would go smoothly, and reminding me that I’d have other things distracting my attention at that time. He took me through what the Child Observation Office would require, and how the visits or appointments would take place, how we would go about getting the birth certificate, then having it translated and available for the British and Thai embassies. He also advised when the surrogate mother would need to complete her paperwork and attend any meetings with us. I was happy with everything we discussed and with his recommendations from other clients and the clinic. I agreed to meet with him on my next visit for an update on legal matters.
Chapter 6
Creating Life
The day before the egg collection over in Thailand, I was still at home in England. I was spending some time with Lily and I decided to take her out for something to eat. I would be travelling later that week to be with Grace when the embryo implantation took place, but for now I had left the office early to go to Surrey where Emma and Lily live – Emma was on her way to Italy for work, so it was just the two of us sharing a pizza. I could barely concentrate on my meal, and I kept thinking that I wanted to be in Bangkok to meet Autumn again on the day they were harvesting her eggs and beginning the fertilisation process. At the same time, I knew I needed to be there for Lily. But as we were chatting, eating and drawing pictures, I was thinking about Autumn and what she was offering to do for us as a family. I wanted to send her a message to let her know how I felt about her donating her eggs, so I sent the following message to the Clinical Director and nurse to pass on to her, as they would be present during her procedure at the clinic.
Open letter to Autumn, my egg donor:
Dear Autumn,
Even though we only met for a short time, I found you to be beautiful, confident and gracious. I really enjoyed learning a little about your family and telling you about mine. I know it takes a special person to be willing to go through this process to give someone a chance to extend their family with a new child or children. You might be wondering what it is that made me pick you as my egg donor. Well, something inside me just said, ‘Autumn is the one’.
I promise you I will be a good parent and give the baby, or babies, all the love and nurturing the child, or children, could want. You are such a wonderful person and I hope that life gives you continued happiness and jo
y.
So, although these words seem hardly enough, I thank you for making all of this possible for me and my family.
Lots of love,
James xxx
After I sent the message I felt a sense of excitement and calm. I knew the procedure would probably take place while I was asleep. I hoped that when she read the message it would help her during the process. I wanted to make it as clear as I could how grateful I was, and that my being in the room would probably not have been very comfortable for either of us – especially if she felt any physical discomfort during the egg retrieval. I’m not great even with mild pain myself, never mind if anyone else feels it – I can’t bear it.
I began to be aware of how excited I felt and was going to feel, to be present when Grace underwent the embryo implantations. I chatted with her every day, and she kept me informed of the injections and medicine she was taking to prepare her for the implantation. We were getting to know each other as best we could in the time we had. After all, she was going to be my surrogate, and I wanted to know as much as possible about how she was preparing herself, while at the same time keeping our conversations friendly and learning about each other’s lives and families too.
I woke up very early to wait for an email or phone call to tell me how Autumn was doing and how many eggs she was able to provide. I had watched a couple of videos online of other women having their eggs removed for IVF, and to me it looked pretty uncomfortable yet amazing at the same time. I thought of Autumn in the clinic and hoped that once she had read the letter it would be clear how appreciative I was of what she was doing and where the procedure could allow me to take my life. I was also conscious of not being there. Lily came into my room early: I’m sure she could hear me up and about waiting for the news. At that point I couldn’t stand the suspense any longer, so I decided to give the clinic a call and see what the outcome was. The doctor had just come out of the procedure and said Autumn was able to donate thirteen eggs. I was delighted. Thirteen! I couldn’t believe it. I also had a message from the attendant nurse who had passed on the email I sent to Autumn, and she told me she was thankful, which was wonderful to hear. I felt so glad that she had got the message at such an important time and that I was able to express my feelings to her on the day that she was doing something I felt was truly momentous.
Then I began to think, should there have been more eggs? What if the doctor had missed one? I’m sure these are thoughts other people have at this stage. However, I was truly happy because my research had told me that thirteen was a very good amount – a number I was very thankful for that morning. I sent a message to Emma to let her know the great news. I knew that they had probably already started the fertilisation of the eggs. It felt magical to think that somewhere, so far away, the first instances of life were being started – I could barely concentrate on anything else. I was envisaging the eggs becoming embryos in the lab, and although I wasn’t there, in my mind’s eye I had the closest view of Autumn’s eggs as they became our embryos. Each step made me even more enthusiastic but also a little bit more anxious. I was already looking forward to tomorrow’s update, but I had to get Lily to school and myself to the office.
I woke up a few times the following night and checked my email to see if an update had been sent. It wasn’t until about 7am that I had a message from the Clinical Director with what I interpreted as ‘OK news’ in terms of numbers. Six mature eggs had made it through the grading process, and overnight four of them had successfully fertilised and were now embryos. I felt a knot in my stomach, as I was expecting there to be eight or ten, but I had been left with only four. I kept reading the email over and over and was imagining all sorts of scenarios – some good, some bad. Then I had another wave of excitement because I had successfully fertilised the eggs and was further forward than I could have hoped or imagined. I had created life, even though at the very earliest part of this miraculous process. The more I thought about it, the better I felt, and I began to will the embryos to continue their journey towards implantation in five days’ time.
I spent the day with my friend, Marisa, and we chatted about what the future might look like, but I left that evening feeling only slightly better that there were just four embryos. I had started to make all sorts of contingency plans in my head and felt guilty that I wasn’t having enough faith in the embryos that had to fight on through the next few days. I wanted to shout at them to keep evolving. I ended the day with a sense of calm and happiness that my own fertility had been confirmed and, however the journey panned out, I was, indeed, capable of fertilising eggs. I knew deep down that I would extend my family when the time was right. I was hoping with all my will that that time had come.
On the second day I knew there would be no update, which in a way put my mind at rest a little. Very early in the morning I had received a reassuring message from the clinic telling me not to expect any news that day, but of course my heart skipped a beat with every ping of my email. Before embarking on these five days of embryo progression for real, I’d imagined there would be a large number of embryos, all at different stages, all working towards the transfer day when the two strongest and fittest would be picked to be implanted. In reality, I was having fears that there would be none to transfer, and that was a really scary thought. I was hanging on to the fact that, actually, the embryos had been fertilised as normal and, although the numbers were not high, everything would work exactly as I had pictured previously.
I tried to plan for the week ahead by getting everything ready at work and preparing to welcome Emma home from her trip, although all the time I kept thinking of the embryos in the clinic and whether they were continuing to progress or not. At some points throughout the day, I would be on top of the world imagining my embryos battling on. I knew I had another sleepless night ahead awaiting news of how the embryos had been doing over the last forty-eight hours. So I said goodbye to Emma and Lily and packed my bag for Bangkok, then tried to go to sleep thinking about embryo grading and how quickly I would be able to interpret the email when it came through. My best-case scenario would be that all four embryos had progressed well and I’d lost none of them.
As the third day approached, once again I hadn’t been able to sleep through the night because I kept waking up to check my email. Around 6.30am I got the incredible news that all four embryos were still developing: two were eight-cell grade one, which made me feel so much better than the day before. I knew they were fighting on, just as I had been willing them to all along, and it felt great to think again that life, even in its earliest of stages, was advancing well. It was great too that with today’s technology I was able to receive the news in an early morning email. I could once again believe that the transfer would take place, and I allowed myself to get lost in my own thoughts about what the future could hold. I had a lot to do that day to get ready for the journey back to Bangkok, including calling into the office to close things up there for a few days. It was obviously as important as it would ever be to enjoy the next few days without any distractions.
I got to the office and wanted to tell everyone the good news, but I knew that it was way too early and there wouldn’t be any concrete information for at least a couple of weeks. As I finished up my emails and closed my laptop, it felt very strange to be going off to the airport for a trip I knew I would never forget. I did this same trip often, but mostly for work, so it was a rather unusual feeling to be at the airport, all checked in and waiting, with only the most important appointment of my life so far to look forward to.
The doctor had confirmed in the early morning email that the transfer time would be Monday at 3pm. I sat feeling very fidgety and nervous. I allowed my mind to wander and think of what the next few months could bring, while at the same time I was so aware that I was only a couple of days away from the possibility of my perfect surrogate, Grace, being pregnant. I decided to buy her some health-promoting tea as a gift and sat waiting to boar
d my flight. I love flying overnight on Saturday nights as it’s normally the one time I can really switch off from everything – especially work. So tonight I was going to relax, dream about my future family and try to get some sleep, if my anxious state of mind would let me. I sent a message to Grace to let her know I was on my way and that I’d see her soon.
When I woke up, we were nearly in Bangkok and I was stunned that I’d been able to get any sleep at all. There was no Wi-Fi on board and, therefore, no way of checking if any emails had come in overnight. I had to wait until we landed to see how the fourth day of development had gone. When I could finally check, I was glad to read that there had been no updates from the clinic, so I was happy to assume that everything was still on for the next day. I arrived at the hotel and had an evening meeting with my lawyer. My friend, Danni, was also visiting on her way home to Perth so it was great to have her company and be with someone who was able to support me while I was there. We had dinner in the hotel and took a short walk, which helped me put the next day’s proceedings into perspective.
Surrogacy Page 3