Designer Baby

by Aaron Elias Brunsdon

  “Jayson and Aaron – the sperm isn’t as strong as we need and its motility does not allow freezing for use at a later date. This means Jayson has to be in Thailand until Rebecca extracts the eggs and they need to prepare the fresh sperm collected at that stage.”

  This means a change of plans. We were banking on Jayson freezing his sperm, allowing him to leave Thailand as soon as possible to fulfil work commitments in Sydney.

  However, we are relieved that his sperm is workable so extra days in Bangkok is a problem we can solve. Sterile sperm that does not work would have been a catastrophe beyond our control.

  In the meantime, Rebecca prepares for a three-day trip to Singapore to be with her children for her daughter’s birthday, a tradition she has never broken since his birth. Tomorrow, we meet our baby’s surrogate mother, and we get a box of chocolates for her from Siam Paragon.

  17

  Surrogate Mother

  For three months we have waited for this day, longing to meet Pimchanok. After vetting six or more different applicants, we felt most comfortable with Pimchanok and selected her. Our decision was made purely on instinct. Pimchanok had an endearing maternal and kind face. Her face looked humble. There were no set rules in the selection process. You go with the flow and decide what works best. The fundamental questions for us were if she had already borne children of her own and if she was healthy. We needed to weigh the odds as best we could to determine if she would be willing to give the baby to us at birth or if she would be tempted to keep it. You don’t select a married surrogate, simply because if she is married Thai law requires the name of her husband on the birth certificate as well. This would increase complications with Thai authorities and the Australian Embassy when applying for your child’s citizenship by descent. We had to be mindful that the surrogate mother is mandatorily named as the child’s mother on the baby’s birth certificate. Despite the fact that in our case she will have no (or at most only a miniscule) genetic link to our child, she is still by law recognised as the child’s mother, and she has to grant consent for us to bring our baby home. Therefore, we were encouraged to maintain a good relationship with her during this pregnancy because if she chooses not to hand the baby over after birth, there is not much we can do. A nightmare no parent wants to face, ever.

  Though there is an agreement in place to protect us, this is also considered ineffective under Thai law. Much to our dismay, it was revealed that she, the surrogate, is the legal custodian of our child while the child remains in Bangkok. Our rights as parents are only gained significantly once we leave Thailand and only after she approves the baby’s exit permit.

  Pimchanok is a 30-year-old mother of two, a pleasant woman with prominent child-bearing hips. She divorced her husband a few years ago when he left her for another woman. She has raised her children, both under the age of thirteen, singlehandedly. Her dream of becoming a surrogate was inspired by the thought of helping others and the freedom the reimbursement of wages would give her to stay at home and be a mother to her children. They live on the meagre wage she makes toiling for hours in a garment factory as a sample machinist sewing surf wear, leaving not much time to do anything else like ensuring proper care for her children at home. Pimchanok met Kay a year ago and expressed her desire to become a surrogate. After a series of successful interviews, medical tests and counselling, her application was successful. She was shortlisted and her file landed on our desk.

  Pimchanok lives about half an hour out of Bangkok and she catches the bus to the appointment that morning. She wears a striped black and white blouse with flaming red pants – the colour a Chinese sign of auspiciousness. Her shoulder-length hair is brushed neatly and she wears light makeup and bright red lipstick that she has unknowingly smudged her teeth with. She is shy and nervous at first and looks at Kay for reassurance. She speaks no English during our half-hour meeting and Kay interprets throughout.

  “We are fashion designers in Australia with a very successful brand. We built everything ourselves, which has enriched us with a fruitful life with the exception of one thing, which is to become fathers and complete our family,” I tell her.

  She listens as Kay translates.

  “I have struggles of my own as a single mum. I am certain of what I am doing, this wonderful thing to help couples like you bring life into this world,” she replies.

  The rational motive is so strong, so beautiful in her eyes, this unconditional love she, a mother herself, will give us. She does not feel it is morally wrong to help as the teachings of Buddhism are to give and be kind to others.

  “How will this help you, being a surrogate for us?” I ask.

  “The support will help my family and me a lot. I can stay home and be a mother to them. My main aim is to bring joy of life to a couple like you who deserve very much the right to be parents,” she says. “You both can and will be able to give the child a good life and the money I receive will only do good things for my children,” she reinforces to us.

  It is a fair trade, a win–win situation for us both.

  “I promise I will look after your baby like it is mine and do nothing to risk the pregnancy. I don’t smoke or engage in any recreational or prescription drugs, I live a healthy life and have delivered two children of my own. The third, yours, will prove an easy task to accomplish,” she emphasises.

  We confirm we will support her during the pregnancy, ensuring proper and good food for her and her children, promising to make life easier. We will also arrange a car to pick her up and return her to her village to attend medical appointments. We prefer the latter than for her to catch a bus while heavily pregnant. We ask that she contact Kay if there is anything else we can do to help her during the pregnancy. Pimchanok is a perfect candidate. Let’s hope and pray our instincts are correct.

  We proceed to sign the contract, a detailed twelve-page document in both Thai and English titled “The Surrogacy Agreement”. It has been amended and screened by Sam, sits next to Kay and is now ready for signing.

  The agreement states clearly that we, the intending parents, wish for a conception through IVF using Jayson’s sperm and to have a child by placing the resultant embryo into Pimchanok’s uterus to maintain the pregnancy. Pimchanok is single and she agrees to assist us in having a child with the help and management of Dr Pisit and his medical team at All IVF.

  “The parties” (meaning Jayson, me and Pimchanok) voluntarily enter into this agreement, the main purpose of which is that Pimchanok agrees to carry the embryo to term and relinquish custody of the child born and that we agree to be parents of the child generated under this agreement. Pimchanok must strictly comply with all instructions, recommendations and advice of the team and must undergo all medical examination, treatment and testing determined necessary. Pimchanok must agree that her decision to enter into this agreement has been made after careful consideration and counselling, with respect to all aspects, and in the absence of economic and emotional duress of any kind and of her own free will. The important clause is that promptly after she gives birth to the child, she will deliver it to us and relinquish and waive all of her rights to the child whatsoever. And that neither she nor her representative, nor her family, nor any third party shall have any physical or parental rights or duties with respect to our child born of this gestational surrogacy process and that we shall have the exclusive custody and all parental rights from the moment it is born.

  She is required to have our child officially registered and assist us in the undertaking of all legal and regulatory requirements necessary to provide us with full legal custody over the child with authorities, and assist any process relating to consent or judgement with respect to paternity and custody of the child. This includes filing of documents, and giving statements to the appropriate officials and assisting in any other relevant steps until completion of these legal processes. She will cooperate fully in allowing us to bond and take custody of the child immediately upon birth and agrees to assist any further lawful action
necessary to enable us to do so.

  She also agrees and acknowledges that when she gives birth to the child, we will be able to take our baby home, granting us permission to leave Thailand with the child. This permission and consent shall be irrevocable and she will assist in all necessary steps to facilitate by providing consent and approval to the authorities, not limited to the embassies of Thailand and Australia, and the child protection department, child welfare department and child adoption bureau in Thailand, in helping us take the child out of Thailand.

  Neither she nor her family are to make attempts to contact and maintain communications with our child or intervene or interfere with the upbringing of our child or in our lives and our child’s life unless agreed, and this is not irrevocable.

  It then stipulates the costs we pay, which include transportation, accommodation, medical screening, expenses, antenatal medical care and life insurance, as well as out-of-pocket living expenses during the pregnancy.

  She is free from disease or other medical problems that could cause injury, defect or disease to the foetus. She will take care of herself and keep in good health throughout the pregnancy, and will not smoke or drink alcohol. She will not use illegal drugs or associate with any persons who do and she will follow the medical advice of Dr Pisit, submitting to regular care by an obstetrician approved by us, and comply with all instructions and recommendations made by Dr Pisit.

  If she fails to relinquish custody of the child, she fails to fulfil her obligation and she will relinquish her entitlement to the payment of expenses, and if she has received the benefit of any portion or all of the payment of such expenses, she must immediately refund it to us and will be responsible for all the monetary expense incurred by us including and not limited to medical expenses, travel expenses and all legal expenses we have incurred.

  After all of the above is clearly explained to Pimchanok in Thai, we sign the agreement, each page is initialled, and finally the last page is witnessed by Kay.

  “The paperwork is done now,” she says. Another major part of the process has been completed.

  But in a nutshell, though this is an ironclad contract in the eyes of a progressive nation like Australia, it does not stand for much here in Thailand. It should only be looked at as a precautionary tool that outlines both our responsibilities. Because, in all truthfulness, if she decides not to hand over the baby, there is nothing we can do. We can’t really sue her for damages, what exactly has she got or what could we actually take from her? Besides, there is nothing we want from her except our baby, who technically does not belong to her and shares little to none of her gene pool. If we were to assume she wants to keep our baby for whatever reason and forfeit the payment, in Thailand she has the legal right as the recognised mother to do so.

  The morning after our meeting with Pimchanok, I feel uplifted.

  “We have come so far, Jayson. Do you remember when the seed was sown?”

  “Yes, I do, and now it is becoming more a reality,” Jayson replies. “I am praying Rebecca’s eggs are large enough to be extracted tomorrow. I am homesick.” I am starting to feel the eggs are stubborn and it is wrecking my peace of mind.

  I am on the computer, attending to some work back in Australia, when a disturbing email shows up from Kay, telling us that Pimchanok can no longer be our surrogate.

  “I am sorry to inform you that Pimchanok tested positive yesterday by the clinic’s laboratory for hepatitis C.”

  I’m in utter shock as I scroll down the email, traumatised to an extent. I know little about hep C except that it is a liver disease spread through the blood, usually transmitted by sharing or reusing syringes, unsterile tattooing, sex acts involving blood to blood contact and from mother to baby before or during birth.

  “Her last blood test three months ago showed a negative result for the disease but the current one showed positive. The clinic sent the samples to a laboratory to verify the findings, which also returned positive,” Kay advises in her email.

  We are crushed.

  “Another drama, how are we to find another surrogate at such short notice?” I ask Jayson worriedly. “This is going to delay things again.” My emotions are racing.

  Kay, the problem solver she is, continues, “Your second choice is available and there is also another woman on standby to be your surrogate, so don’t worry.”

  Thank God, I think to myself.

  All we have to do was select one of the two immediately. Both passed the screening with normal results. Kay attaches their bios and medical results in the same email, stressing a decision is imperative within the next hour so she can make necessary arrangements for us to meet. She suggests she orchestrate the meeting to take place with our choice of surrogate after Rebecca’s follow-up appointment with Dr Pisit tomorrow.

  Decisions, decisions. I am bloody over it. This is one setback we didn’t expect. There’s more than meets the eye. I shouldn’t judge anyone but I am struggling not to. I imagine how devastating the blow must be for Pimchanok herself, her dream role vanishing into thin air in seconds.

  We are still digesting the news and now we are scanning both the attached bios. We study the pictures using pretty much the same approach we had with Pimchanok. “Let’s go with our instinct again,” I say to Jayson.

  “The first time got us nowhere!” he replies.

  In twenty minutes, tops, we are both leaning towards the young Thai woman of about thirty years old named Ittiporn. There is something about her that catches our attention. The truth is that we have hardly enough time and we have to be quick to make a decision.

  I type an email to Kay.

  Dear Kay,

  Crushing news!!! We were gung-ho on Pimchanok. But also best we know this now. A commendable discovery on the clinic’s part.

  We are leaning to Ittiporn, the new applicant, so please proceed with her. Please arrange for us to meet ASAP!

  Thank you.

  Best,

  Aaron and Jayson

  With the decision made, I quickly press the send button. I don’t handle crisis very well. I panic and hyperventilate. I am a drama queen. In fact, I am more mystified than anything else by this situation. I can’t help wondering how she had got hep C in the last three months. I can’t imagine we are talking about the same demure woman we met just last week. I recline back on the chair and Jayson and I both breathe a sigh of relief. Relief that we were saved by the bell.

  “Were we too fast again? Shouldn’t we have thought about this carefully first? Maybe studied the bios a bit more?” I ask Jayson, doubting my instinct. There was just no time. We sit for ten minutes digesting the hurricane that has just come to our attention.

  Today, I have been told, Dr Pisit will confirm the date of the OPU – the clinical abbreviation for the ovum pick up. It is also the final process of step two, after which we can go home. This is when they will extract Rebecca’s eggs. He will confirm her progress and check if her blood levels are on track.

  We have been in Thailand for ten days. The heat and traffic are getting to me. Plus we were expecting the journey to be smoother. According to the schedule we received before our arrival, Jayson should have been home by now and Rebecca on a plane back to Sydney tomorrow. Setbacks and delays have thrown our meticulous plan out of sight.

  At the IVF clinic this morning, we meet the apologetic Kay who is still in shock over Pimchanok’s hep C diagnosis.

  “Sorry, so sorry,” she repeatedly says, as if the result was a fault of her own. “Ittiporn is a better choice, Buddha says everything happens for a reason.” She says perhaps the reason for Pimchanok’s illness was to put things into perspective and say that nothing in life is certain.

  I feel devastated after having been so excited with Pimchanok, believing what we saw and heard. I shouldn’t judge, but the reality is there must be some honesty in some things. Perhaps I am overthinking, another of my usual traits. At least, I console myself, it is better to find out now, rather than later when the implicatio
ns could have been worse with her carrying our baby.

  We are grateful to Dr Pisit’s team for their competence and thoroughness. What if it had not been discovered? Let’s imagine, perhaps, we are involved with a dodgy clinic with a complacent medical team who doesn’t really care to screen again, and we go along with it? I mean, seriously, what could have happened? Our spiritual guide is watching over us once again. Actually come to think of it, I felt a presence last night in my sleep, like a warning from another dimension.

  I console Kay, telling her it wasn’t her fault and none of us expected such an outcome. She remains feeling responsible, like she has let us down on such an important matter. I want to forget it all, like waking from a bad dream. I hope our new surrogate will be drama free.

  A nurse calls out Rebecca’s name, the pronunciation so strange it sounds Chinese. “Lee Bee Kah”. She calls several times before we realise who she is referring to. We chuckle discreetly before entering Dr Pisit’s consultation room. To our dismay, he advises us that the follicles, now eleven of them, still aren’t big enough, therefore the OPU date can’t be confirmed. They are averaging in size between ten and twelve millimetres, too small in IVF language. Rebecca learns she has to continue Folitropin injections and be reviewed on 25 April with the possibility he may perform the OPU the same day. This will depend once again on the results.

  We three sigh in frustration. It is not turning out to be a good day. I am mindful of the return flights the others have booked to Sydney, the day of the proposed OPU. Rebecca has arranged a stopover in Singapore. Dr Pisit has recommended that Rebecca have at least one day’s rest before jumping on a flight. If he is to conduct the surgery on the 25 April, we should aim to return to Sydney the day after. But we won’t change the flights until our next appointment. At this time, if she is still not ready for OPU, he will consider Monday 28 April as the alternative. “Not again, please,” I beg my spiritual guide.