I felt a huge sense of guilt that I was already planning for a third attempt, but due to the distance and cost, I really had to cover all avenues. I felt guilty for not having any faith in the current implantation, as if I were betraying the embryos and didn’t believe they could make it through to a healthy pregnancy. As I was getting ready for the trip, a friend I had met at the clinic, who’d had his surrogate implanted a few days after me, announced that his surrogate was pregnant. I was amazed, happy, but very envious that his surrogate had become pregnant the first time, just as had happened for my other friends. I knew that this was nature (although made possible by science), and that there were no guarantees. My friend’s new pregnancy had been the result of embryos which had gone through PGD testing (pre-implantation genetic diagnosis), which may, or may not, allow the chosen embryos a higher chance of success, as they had been tested for certain genetic diseases alongside the sex selection of the embryos. This was something I hadn’t considered before, but it was something to think about, if it would give me healthy embryos with a higher chance of a pregnancy and tell me the sex before implantation.
I was now ready to leave for my trip back to the clinic and, after Grace’s endometrium check, everything had been slotted into a place on the timeline ready for my arrival in Bangkok. I was, in a way, glad that this time was not as stressful as the first attempt, when I had been getting daily updates on the egg retrieval process, how they had fertilised and how many had survived. Now all I had to worry about was whether the remaining two embryos would make it successfully through the thawing process and be healthy enough for implantation. Another worry I hadn’t expected.
I was becoming increasingly thoughtful about the embryos going through the thawing process. I’d had confirmation from the clinic that I would meet new egg donors before the implantation, and so I headed off to the airport. The flight was long, but at least I knew I would have a few days to relax and do more preparation for the baby, or babies’, eventual arrival. I arrived at the hotel and barely had time to shower before heading off to the clinic, as the flight into Bangkok had been delayed. I had prepared cards and a small gift for the new egg donors as before, and felt comfortable that they had been properly briefed about my personal situation and request to have future contact. Before travelling, I had read through more profiles and decided on who to meet and ask to donate eggs in case this implantation didn’t work.
First I met Sophia and instantly warmed to her. She seemed gracious and open when talking about her family and her brother. As beautiful as she was, her brother was very handsome too, and although her English was very limited, the translator helped us through the conversation in the short time we had together. I was becoming quite adept at asking the questions now and got to the personal questions, such as when her period was due, straight away. Her period had just started so she would have been a perfect candidate in terms of time. She’d had her scan before we met, and had about six or seven follicles in each ovary. This could have been slightly higher for her age, but I was sure she was the best candidate in terms of her personality too. I really enjoyed chatting with her and asking about her studies at university, but my jet lag was making me very tired and I knew I had to meet with another egg donor immediately afterwards, before joining Grace in the implantation room. I told the doctor that if the two embryos we were implanting that day were not successful, I wanted Sophia to be my egg donor. Sophia and the clinic agreed for her to start the drugs immediately in case we needed her. At the same time, I got the news that both embryos had successfully gone through the thawing process, and I had two healthy embryos to implant.
I went out for a coffee to clear my head and relax a bit before the implantation in the theatre. I needed some caffeine to keep me alert because I was fading fast – I hadn’t slept a wink on the flight. I grabbed a late lunch and tensely headed back to the clinic to join Grace for the implantation. She dressed again in her gown, as did I, and we went separately to the implantation theatre. I wasn’t as petrified this time, as I knew what to expect, but I saw that Grace was more anxious, precisely because she too knew what to expect. I tried my best to put her at ease and we had agreed beforehand that I would take a couple of photos this time. As I wasn’t rigid with nerves on this occasion, I took an amazing photo of the embryos on the screen seconds before they were implanted. As the doctor picked up the catheter with the embryos inside, I saw the first one implanted and held Grace’s hand, as she was particularly uncomfortable. Once again, I saw the flash of light as the embryo entered her womb and waited nervously to see the second one implanted too. It was a miraculous sight, and I felt so privileged to be in this position: privileged, not only in the sense that I was present during the procedure, but also that I was able to make this happen. This was my dream coming true, and I was much more alert and able to take everything in, which made the whole experience much more enjoyable.
The nurse took a picture of us both straight after the implantation. It was a moment I will never forget, and I’m glad it was documented. I gave Grace a couple of gifts of tea, some ginger biscuits to offset any pregnancy sickness, as they had helped her last time, and some make-up she had asked me for while I was in London. I put a card in with the gifts to thank her for trying again for me. My gratitude was immeasurable, and I tried to convey this in words. I sat with her for a while after the implantation and told her I was standing by for all the updates over the next few days. I left four early-response pregnancy tests in the bag too, as this time I was happy for her to test at home after a few days, if she felt she wanted to. I wanted her to know I was comfortable with that this time. I left the clinic as prepared as I could be for the next few days and knew I had once more jumped on the rollercoaster affectionately known as ‘the two-week wait’. Yet again, I was glad of our Messenger chats as it made the conversation flow between us.
I returned to the hotel exhausted after being awake for nearly forty hours. Once again, I was conscious that Grace was technically pregnant, but I was also thinking about where things would take me if I needed to use Sophia as an egg donor. The last two embryos had now been implanted and I was hoping more than ever that they would progress through to the pregnancy I so much wished for. Over the next few days I tried to distract myself from thinking about the pregnancy and how I felt. I just wasn’t convinced this time would work and tried my hardest to put these thoughts out of my mind. I felt I was being realistic, though, as the embryo grades were lower due to fragmentation and having been conceived from sperm that had been frozen, then thawed, and then implanted. It seemed almost impossible that they would result in a pregnancy, but I tried to think positively about all the posts online. I was also conscious that the clinic’s statistics indicated that it had not had to find a second egg donor for an overseas client before, and I was sure they would only implant the embryos if they had an equal chance to any others.
I spent my time looking around Bangkok as a tourist for once and enjoyed my few days there trying to strike the best deal for an apartment in readiness for the pregnancy being successful. I didn’t feel the same as the first time, though, and I wondered if this was because I had been through the process before or whether it was to do with my doubts over the embryos. I just didn’t feel as enthusiastic. Nonetheless, I loved hearing from Grace about how she was feeling, and after a few days she had the same symptoms as the first time: sore breasts and nausea. At the time, this made me a little more convinced that she might be pregnant, but I had the overwhelming thought that it was only a chance. I prepared to go home to London and sit out the wait there.
Chapter 8
The Gift of a Partner
Although I had started the process of having a family as a single parent, I was always open to sharing this with a partner. I hadn’t met the right person yet, and I had always hoped that I would meet someone to share my life with and eventually have a family together. I decided to go ahead with the surrogacy alone – I was just t
oo impatient to wait any longer.
I had started seeing a handsome man called Krzysztof at the beginning of the process. Shortly after we’d met, I told him that I was about to embark on an IVF attempt to have a successful pregnancy with my surrogate, Grace, in Thailand, and it certainly came as a shock. He is Polish and had been living in London for a few years, working near my home in London Bridge. Later on in our relationship, he told me that he had thought I was joking about the IVF, and that he was waiting the whole evening for me to tell him it wasn’t true. I was cautious about telling him, but I wanted to be completely honest with him. Because we had only just started seeing each other, I think he did tremendously well, taking it in his stride and being amazingly supportive and happy for me. I was thrilled to have a partner at last to share this experience with. I hoped we would stay together so I involved him as much as was appropriate, considering the length of time we had known each other. Krzysztof is a wonderful man and I sensed very early in our relationship that he too wanted to have a family and that one day he would find a similar pathway to trying for a child. Our bond quickly grew stronger through this experience, as his astounding support was always there, along with his voice of reason. He is brave in his decisions and my attraction to him was strong from the outset. I believed in him and his graciousness to welcome and encourage me. I trusted him and began to share more and more of my thoughts and fears, which in turn allowed me to envisage a future with him.
After a few weeks of being together, I wanted to introduce Krzysztof to Lily. This was a marvellous time for us, and I could see from his expression that he understood why I wanted to have a biological child of my own. He seemed really comfortable with that. This made me feel very supported by him and, at the same time, I really enjoyed seeing him bond with Lily. As the weekend went on, I knew we were getting near day eight post-implantation, and I wondered if Grace had used any of the tests yet. It was two days until the official blood tests, but I was enjoying my time with Lily and Krzysztof and tried to put it out of my mind as much as I could – which was pretty impossible. Grace’s updates were still plentiful, but I could tell she was really nervous about the result too. On Sunday evening, I went straight to sleep knowing that I would have to wait until morning for updates from Grace. I didn’t want to ask her if she had taken a test; I knew that if she had and she was pregnant she would contact me the very same minute, so I just waited.
In the morning, Grace sent a message telling me to prepare myself for disappointment. I instantly knew that she had taken a test and that the result was negative. She confirmed that it was. I felt my heart sink again. I was more disappointed than the first time, and I really felt Grace’s sadness. I knew that there was the slimmest of hopes that the result might be positive in a day and a half’s time. I had already started to prepare myself for a third attempt, so, although knocked sideways again, I wanted to try once more straight away. Grace wasn’t pregnant, and I had no embryos left from Autumn. I would have to start from the beginning again, and I knew that there would be a big financial cost in trying again with a new donor. I did my best to console both myself and Grace and received a heartfelt email from the clinic to confirm the results. I was glad of Krzysztof’s support and took a couple of days to consider my options and let the news sink in. Once again, I had the task of telling friends and family that the second try had been unsuccessful.
When I had gathered my thoughts, I had a call with the clinic to discuss the best way forward. At this stage, we had no more embryos, so I needed to confirm a new donor. I continued to progress with Sophia as my donor because she was comfortable with having contact with the family in the future. Her scan had shown that she now had twelve to fifteen follicles and that she would be a good candidate. The clinic advised me that, alternatively, I could wait for another donor who had donated her eggs before. She would give a number of eggs, which would allow us to do the PGD gender selection test, but she would not welcome any future contact. I just couldn’t proceed that way. I said that I wanted to know that Sophia would take all her stimulation drugs diligently because that way we would get the best results at the egg retrieval. I decided that we would try this time with everything fresh, including the sperm transfer, to give us an even better chance of success than the first time.
We had to have a discussion as to whether to implant Grace or another surrogate for this third attempt. The clinic sent me a profile of a woman called Intira, who was also willing and able to be my surrogate. She was in sync with my egg donor, as Grace should be too. However, the clinic told me that she didn’t speak any English. I realised how difficult that would make it for me to get any updates, and it meant that there would be no communication at all in the same way I was able to have with Grace. I wouldn’t even be able to meet her until I got back to Bangkok, so the clinic offered a meeting on Skype. I wanted to be honest with Grace that there was a fifty per cent possibility that I would use another surrogate and that it was all down to timing. I also stipulated that, if we implanted her a third time, she would have to stay at the surrogate house in Bangkok. This was something that I knew she didn’t want to do, but I felt it would give us the best chance. She agreed. Grace would try a third attempt with us and Intira would try with another couple.
The clinic agreed to move forward, and a new timeline was drawn up. Sophia would send in photos of herself taking the injections, and they would send them to me. I could see the clinic was trying to give us the best possible chance of success, and this gave me a great feeling of optimism as we approached the third try. When the first set of photos came through from Sophia, I knew if she was going to go to the lengths of sending the injection photos then she was true to her word, and I felt happy that I had chosen her as an egg donor. A rising sense of ‘let’s do this!’ welled up in me, and I was again excited that all the dates were coming together and we were going to have a greater chance than the first time. I was hoping so much that it would be possible to implant the embryos in Grace, and when her period came I knew the dates would match up. Subject to her endometrium scan in a couple of weeks, she would be a surrogacy candidate for the third time. I did my sums and paid for the egg harvest from Sophia, and the next round of drugs and IVF. I decided against the PGD sex selection test because the sex was not important to me, and with our joint medical history I felt confident that there would be no major genetic diseases to look out for. I was getting regular photos of Sophia doing her injections, and Grace was preparing for the third implantation. I booked my flights to coincide with a work trip to Hong Kong straight after my brother’s wedding in Scotland. It was going to be tight to fit everything in, but subject to the scans and dates changing I’d be able to make the itinerary work to do a fresh sperm transfer in Bangkok, then fly to Hong Kong, and finally fly back to Bangkok for the embryo transfer. I was tired just looking at my diary. This third attempt felt as if it were going to give us the pregnancy we were all hoping for. Somehow I remained hopeful after so much disappointment.
I was at my brother’s wedding in Scotland when the clinic’s email came through to say that Sophia had had her scan and had nineteen growing follicles. I looked at Lily, who was having a wonderful time dancing at the reception with my nieces, Poppy and Heather, and I couldn’t help but imagine how excited she would be to have brothers and sisters. I watched her play and dance and was convinced I was doing the right thing for my family, however unusual. I was thrilled, and had a rising sense that, doing everything by the book this third time, we were getting great results. I couldn’t wait to get to Bangkok. The morning after the wedding, I flew from Glasgow to London with Emma and Lily, then on to Bangkok. I was exhausted by the flights, but I had overnight to relax before going to the clinic.
Chapter 9
Fresh Eggs
I arrived at the clinic to find Sophia already in the operating room and prepared for her egg collection. I didn’t get a chance to see her. I knew the procedure would be long and she would be
groggy afterwards – making conversation with me would be the last thing on her mind, especially since she was not expecting to see me there. So I decided to leave her a small gift and a thank you card that I’d written the night before. It read:
Dear Sophia,
Thank you for what you are doing for me today. I promise to be a good parent and give the children all the love in the world.
You are a wonderful person for doing what you are doing today and I wish you and your family all the joy and happiness life can give.
Lots of love, James xxx :)
My note was short and to the point, and it reflected the intentions in my letter to Autumn, my first egg donor, because the sentiment was exactly the same. I was, and would remain, eternally grateful, and no words in a card or spoken out loud would ever convey the wealth of gratitude I felt for these two women and what they had given me. I was aware of the long-term implications of their egg donation: their biological children would be brought into the world by another woman, and I assumed that they wanted this for me as much as I wanted this for my family. I was always thinking of Sophia’s diligence in sending her photos of the injections, and I was truly convinced of her commitment to giving me the best possible chance I had of achieving the pregnancy. I was there to give a fresh sperm transfer in order to increase the chances of success even more than by using the frozen sperm I had already at the clinic, so I was led discreetly to the private room. I left my sperm sample in the cup and placed it in the cupboard to be prepared for fertilisation.
Surrogacy Page 5