When my husband, Robin, and I first discussed how we might try to have a child, we were against exploring surrogacy. Wasn’t this something that only celebrities did in America? Was it really in children’s best interests? How could you be sure that the women were not being forced?
Five years later, and we have a son, Solly, who has just turned three and was born through surrogacy in the UK.
There were two things that changed our minds: meeting these women and hearing them speak for themselves; and reading academic research, which is clear that children born through surrogacy are just as likely to flourish as anyone else.
Undoubtedly surrogacy can be exploitative, particularly in developing countries, with women coerced, sometimes by abusive partners, into carrying babies for rich foreigners. However, surrogacy can also be pursued ethically – when women with agency choose to carry children for others.
The egg donor chose to remain anonymous, but it’s Solly’s legal right to have her details when he’s 18
In 2018, a colleague of mine told me that he and his husband were going through surrogacy in Britain. I learned that it is legal here, but non-commercial: you cannot pay surrogates to carry your child, only cover expenses, such as maternity wear, travel expenses for appointments, loss of earnings and medication.
We listened to various podcasts in which surrogates spoke of the pride they felt in helping couples create families, and the lifelong relationships they formed with them. We wanted to find out more, so tentatively signed up to Surrogacy UK, a not-for-profit organisation that hosts events where surrogates can meet ‘intended parents’, a term in the surrogacy community for couples like us. (I use the term ‘surrogate’, rather than ‘surrogate mother’ because every surrogate I’ve met preferred this wording.)
The first surrogacy event we attended was at a pub near Stroud.
