Surrogacy

When I tell people that I am a surrogate, the predominant question/concern is always how am I able to detach emotionally after carrying a child or children for nine months in my womb. First, let me begin by saying that one of the reasons I got into surrogacy in the first place was because I wanted to help those who wanted to be parents but couldn’t. With that in mind, I never looked at the pregnancies as my own. This prevented me from developing an emotional connection. I also approached each surrogacy as what they always were, a business arrangement. I was always happy for the families, and celebrated with them with each positive pregnancy test, with each ultrasound, and with each healthy baby. I took care of myself, what I ate, stayed healthy, took vitamins, and followed every precaution. When the babies were born, I would opt for the skin-to-skin kangaroo care after birth (better for the baby). Would even offer my nipple, though aside from my first they rarely latched. In some cases, my wife and I, sometimes along with our son, would care for the children as our own for hours, even a full day, after delivery because the IPs were on their way from China or another state. No matter how much time I spent with those little bundles of joy, I never had a hard time saying goodbye. The immense love and gratitude in the faces of the new parents upon seeing their child(ren) for the first time, was the confirmation that all of this was worth it. I must also add that being able to take care of myself after giving birth and not a screaming infant is one of the most peaceful ways to recuperate. While I will always have the physical memory of carrying those children within me, I inherently understood from their conception that they were never mine. Whether they shared my biological DNA or had no ties to me did not change how I regarded them or how I took care of myself.

In no way am I saying that this is always an easy process. While this psychological reasoning came easily to me, not everyone is cut out to do this. It is hard to go through an experience like surrogacy and come out unscathed. I know many other surrogates who, after completing one surrogacy journey, are left so emotionally (and sometimes physically) scarred that they vow never to do it again. Even while wholeheartedly admitting that it was a deeply rewarding experience for them. To me, I see it as the difference between a person who has an addictive personality and one that does not. I am not trying to compare surrogacy to addiction, but rather am asserting that there are those who struggle with temptation after one try, and those who can simply choose to continue or quit. I am the latter. I am a mind over matter type of person. When I commit to something, I deeply commit to it. For me, committing to a surrogacy was all that I needed to sever the emotional connection between me and the baby or babies I was carrying.

When they say that surrogacy is a selfless act, I took that literally. I knew that I needed to shut off the emotional component, completely. A critical part of my job as a professional surrogate is to ensure that I am intentionally disconnected for the benefit and well-being of the children and their families as well as myself, so as not to interfere with any emotional bond between the IPs (Intended Parents) and THEIR children. In my case, using this emotional shut off valve comes with a price. While this is not a price to pay for the children growing up thousands of miles away in China, whom I may never see in person again, this is an issue for the children who are still very much a part of my life. I am referring to the first surrogacy that I did, that resulted in boy/girl twins who have grown up knowing who I am to them and have become part of my extended family. From the day they were born, and I held them for the first time, I knew immediately something was off. I assumed that it was just from me having distanced myself from them while they were in utero, and it was, but it was also more than that. When I would visit with them, I felt more than just distance between us. I had a hard time holding them as babies, not because it was emotionally difficult, but more like my body just did not want to hold them. What I go through emotionally and mentally is a psychological overhaul, my subconscious was so disconnected that it was trying to sabotage my relationship with them. I wanted desperately to connect to them, and was determined to do so. Shortly after they were born, I set to work methodically forging a new link to them. I felt like Sarah having asked for the Goblin King to come and take her brother away, only to then have to navigate a labyrinth to find her way back to him. It took time, but my connection and love for them is unbreakable and runs very deep. I love being their Chava, watching them grow, being a part of their lives, and reveling in their genetic similarities to me. I will never regret my internal safeguards for my surrogacies, as I know that is how I was able to accomplish so many.

Surrogacy is difficult. It is more than nine months of your body not being your own. Grueling hormone injections that never seem to end and leave you with bumps, bruises, and mood swings galore. The embryo transfer that is not always guaranteed. Followed by the body aches and changes, morning sickness, acid reflux, more mood swings, cravings, and discomfort all associated with a pregnancy that you are emotionally disconnected from. To top it off, the extraordinary pain of labor and delivery (that you experience with or without pain meds) is beyond what most are capable of withstanding. The month or so of recuperating is made only moderately easier without a screaming infant keeping you awake at night, but the physical recovery from birth is always a challenge. The toll it takes on the surrogate’s immediate family is not to be diminished, as they provide their unending help and care in support of something that they may not completely understand. While surrogacy is a source of immense joy and gratification, as well as monetary reward, it is definitely a force to be reckoned with.