More Q & A

Anonymous asked: Here's a question: any comment on the new movie "Baby Mama"? As I watched it, I was both disappointed by the writing, acting, and general premise, but was also thinking about your story. After reading your account of this journey, seems like that movie would be a real slap in the face!

Dear Anonymous, when I first saw the trailer for the movie, I was offended just watching that little bit of it. Then I told myself I needed to pull the stick out of my ass and just enjoy it for what it is: a light-hearted comedy about a subject close to my own heart. I mean, did Jeff Gordon get upset by Talladega Nights? Did Kristi Yamaguchi get offended by Blades of Glory? (Not that I’m comparing myself to celebrities, but you know what I mean.)

Then, a fellow surrogate went to see it and told me that not only was it NOT funny, but it was not even remotely accurate, and that it painted a terrible portrait of surrogates as stupid, greedy, irresponsible women. Unfortunately, I don’t think the vast majority of people actually KNOW any surrogates, so I am bothered by the possibility some people might watch that movie and think that it’s accurate in its assessment, all for the sake of a laugh. I don’t know, maybe I’m too uptight. Maybe I really DO need to pull the stick out. But until then, I won’t be watching it.



Kathy in NC asks: One question you may not want to answer....do you have to pay income taxes on the labor of your womb?

Kathy, no, it’s considered pre-birth child support and as such, is non-taxable. Just like many insurance companies are starting to make exclusions for surrogate pregnancies, however, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s just a matter of time until the compensation becomes taxable by law.




Susan from TX asks: - once you got pregnant - how did you explain to your kids that the baby would not stay with you? Did they ever get confused? Did you ever have problems with other people in your life not understanding that the baby was not "yours"

Susan, I can tell you honestly that no, this has never been an issue for my kids. In fact, I have a great story to tell later that will show just how well this has served as a learning experience for my own children.




Enya asks: You're probably going to cover this later on, but I'll ask anyway. How is the delivery planned? If you, the IP, and the fertility clinic are in all different states, where do you have the baby? I would assume that the IP come to you, but, even then, it's not like you can predict when you're going to go into labor. Do you pick a day and induce? How often does a surrogate go into labor early and the IP miss it?

Enya, this can vary from situation to situation, but for the vast majority of surrogate pregnancies, the IP’s come to wherever the surrogate lives for delivery, and an induction date is scheduled to help everyone make plans. For a surrogate to travel to the IP’s state (assuming they live in different states) means she would have to move there for weeks, or longer, finding a new doctor and waiting for the birth. Obviously, that is pretty impractical, considering most surrogates have not only families of their own to take care of, but jobs as well.

However, when the surro and the IP’s live apart, the possibility the IP’s could miss the birth can be a real concern. The delivery is typically the pinnacle of the entire experience, and no-one wants to miss it. So, IP’s will usually come days, or even weeks, before, if it’s possible, just to ensure they are there for the big day. A friend of mine delivered recently for a couple from another country, and unexpectedly delivered a few weeks early. The parents not only missed the birth, but couldn’t even get flights into the country until two days later, which was nobody’s fault, but still unfortunate.

For me, since I have never gone into labor early, but in fact normally have to use a crowbar, a blowtorch, and some circus midgets to get the babies out, I’ve had my IP’s present for every birth, something I am VERY thankful for.




Hi! I never comment but I read your blog everyday. I was wondering do they have a cutoff age for surrogates and is the whole process any faster or easier after you've already done it once?

When I first investigated surrogacy, the cut-off age for the agency I used was 37. It has since been raised to 42, but I’ve been told that most RE’s will go higher than that for experienced surrogates who are still in excellent health. Thank goodness, since I’m pushing 42 myself and don’t feel “done” yet!

Sometimes the second process is faster; sometimes it is not. There are so many variables that it’s hard to predict, plus a lot matters on how much time has elapsed between pregnancies.




Melissa asked: Here's what I've always wondered; when I was pregnant, strangers would often ask when I was due, if it was my first, etc. Did you get these same kind of small-talk comments also, and if so did you just go along, smile, nod, and act like it was just a typical pregnancy? I guess that would be easier than explaining everything to a stranger, but I always wondered how you'd respond to comments like that.

Melissa, for me, it depends on the situation, how well I know the person, whether or not I will ever see them again, and on my mood that day. Sometimes I don’t mention it at all and just accept their comments with a smile; sometimes I’ll give a brief explanation and depending on the response I get, go more into detail if time allows. I’m proud of being a surrogate and would happily tattoo it on my forehead so everyone could know, but honestly, it’s not practical to think I can explain the situation to every single person I see for nine months, especially total strangers I only meet in passing who I will never see again. Then again, you’d be amazed how many people I have *assumed* knew I was a surrogate, only for them to ask me a few weeks after delivery, “Where’s that new baby of yours?” So maybe I SHOULD explain to everyone, ha!



Denise Tidwell asked: How many times do couples try typically? Is this normal not to work the first time? How disappointing!

Denise, sometimes it works the first try, sometimes the second, sometimes the third …. Or more. Honestly, how many times a couple is willing to try depends on their financial and emotional resources. It’s normally written into the legal contracts that after four failed attempts, both the IP’s and the surrogate are released from any further obligation to try again. (Of course, nobody can make you try a second time ... but it's good to have a written number in there to clear up everyone's expectations.) After three or four failed attempts, the doctors will often suggest a couple find a new surrogate. I’ve seen that happen, and the couple went on to get their next surrogate pregnant on the first attempt, and I’ve known surrogates who moved on to a new couple and then got pregnant immediately as well. So who knows what the magic combination is, why it works quickly for some and not for others …..


I don't know if you want to answer this, but you touched on your challenges with conceiving children... what was her fertility issue? I feel so nosy, but since you never mention her by name, I thought it was o.k. to ask why people commonly seek out surrogates. OK, I asked.

Well, one reason a woman might need a surrogate is because she could have been advised by her doctor not to become pregnant due to underlying health issues, such as heart problems, kidney problems, blood disorders, chronic miscarriages, chronic premature deliveries, etc. A pregnancy could be dangerous to her health, or the health of the unborn child. Or, perhaps she is physically unable to carry a pregnancy. Perhaps a woman has had uterine cancer and had her uterus removed, or has a malformed uterus, or, like my cousin, was born without a uterus. I think one of the more common reasons is due to emergency hysterectomies, taking place either as a result of a crisis during a previous delivery, or (in the case of my first IM) losing a child during pregnancy and having an unplanned, emergency hysterectomy. Any way you look at it, it’s a huge loss, not being able to carry your own child, and my heart goes out to these women who have to deal with the emotional aspects of their grief and challenges before moving forward. No matter how great of a solution I think surrogacy is, it definitely takes a special mom-to-be who can reach the point of being mentally and emotionally stable with not only allowing another woman to carry her child, but being excited about it.

Although I’ve heard the rumors about celebrities hiring surrogates so they can keep their figure, or career women who can’t be bothered with the inconvenience of pregnancy …. I have to believe that is VERY few and far between, if not completely unheard of. Someone is really going to go to the expense and trouble of using a surrogate because she doesn’t want stretch marks? Really? And some surrogate is going to agree to that??? Hmmm. In fact, I’ve never known any surrogate to carry for ANYONE who didn’t have a legitimate physical need. I'm not saying it NEVER happens, but in my heart of hearts, I believe that surrogacy is not a matter of convenience, but a labor of love and mutual respect.

The Phone Call

Here is a synopsis of our conversation, keeping in mind that they *knew* I was planning to take a home pregnancy test, but not until a few days later. Not until right before the blood test, in fact:

Me: “Hi, have I caught you at a bad time?”

Her: (gracious as always) “No, this is fine. We’re just sitting here at the restaurant having dinner with our family.”

Me: “Oh, family?” (trying to play coy) “Who all is there?”

Her: “My father-in-law, mother-in-law, sister and brothers-in-law, etc.”

Me: “And it’s your in-laws anniversary?”

Her: “Yes” (probably wondering why I think it’s any of my business)

Me: “So, what sort of anniversary presents did you get them?”

Her: “Well, they’re adults, so we just bought flowers and are having a nice dinner.”

Me: “Weee-eee-llllll, would you like a nice gift to give them?”

Her: (sight pause) “What do you mean?”

Me: “Are you sitting down?”

Her: “Yes” (at this point, I could tell she knew something was up, but was either too afraid, or too hopeful, to put it in words)

Me: “I took a home test ……” pause

Her: “No!”

Me: “YES! It was positive!”

Her: “Oh my gosh! Are you serious?!?!”

And at that exact moment, in the perfect timing that is my life, our cell phone connection started breaking up!

She called me back a few minutes later and filled me in on what happened next, which was touching, and funny, and wonderful. She was trying desperately to hang on to the cell phone connection, so she got up from the table, without a word of explanation to anyone, and ran out in the parking lot, hoping for a clearer signal. She said hearing the news completely took her breath away, and her husband saw this. He thought she was choking, and ran after her! So there the two of them were in the parking lot, jumping up and down, crying, laughing, and trying to get me back on the phone. I would have given a million dollars to have witnessed this personally, and to have seen how excited and happy they were. When she called me back, she was ecstatic, and kept saying, “Are you sure???” I told her as sure as we could be, with two positive home tests.

It was hands down, the happiest, most gratifying phone call I have ever made in my life. I felt like the Publisher’s Clearing House Prize Patrol guy, who people are always thrilled to see. It also felt a little voyueristic, honing in on their happiness in this way for myself, but I was simply thrilled to hear the excitement in their voices, and was so excited myself for what was happening for all of us.

Apparently they went back into the restaurant to make the announcement to the entire family, and it turned into quite the celebration. She called me the next day to tell me how thrilled everyone was, and even hearing it second hand made me happy.

Anyway, a few days passed and it was time for our “official” blood test, which confirmed I was indeed pregnant. Thank goodness, my biggest fear had become that all the home tests (Because yeah, you know I took another one the next day) were defective and the lab would tell me I wasn’t actually pregnant.

I got to make another wonderful call to tell my IM the good news. “Are you sitting down?” became our kind of trademark question. At this point, we knew we had to wait about two weeks before the first ultrasound, which would let us know whether one, or both, of the embryos had implanted. My initial beta hcg was a 633, which indicated a good, strong pregnancy, but didn’t necessarily mean twins. The higher the number, sometimes, the more likely it is a multiple pregnancy. Or not. It’s really a crapshoot. The numbers game, which is played a lot by excited new moms and excited new surrogates in IVF pregnancies, can be pretty vague, but it was still fun to wonder which it would be. I think, deep down, we were all hoping for twins. That week was my birthday, I found out I was pregnant ……. Really, how much better could things be??

My Mothers Day, 2008

My Mother’s Day today went much like everyone else’s, I imagine …. Get up and make pancakes, go to church (oh, no, wait, we didn’t, because two of the kids refused to get dressed on time) then gather ‘round to open up my Mother’s Day gifts -- the requisite small bowls (when *I* was in school, we called them ashtrays, un-p.c. as that might be today) made by the kids in art class, and the traditional decoupage candle holder. Brayden also made me a very neat memory book, and Blaine gave me a new soap dispenser for our guest bathroom.

You think I’m kidding.

I am not.

He also gave me a new paper napkin dispenser for the same bathroom.

Again, with the not kidding.

What I should also tell you, in fairness, is that the soap dispenser and paper napkin holder were gifts number two and three, and things that I *did* want. Gift number one was something I asked for weeks ago --- wanted more than you could possibly know, and possibly more than is cool or hip to admit -- tickets to tonight’s REO Speedwagon concert at our local amphitheater.

Have I ever told you of my deep and abiding love for REO Speedwagon? I pink puffy heart REO, and always have. Always will. Long live Kevin Cronin. Other bands have come and gone, but they are my constant. (I know, I’m a true child of the 80’s and I don’t know whether to be proud, or apologize.) I love almost everything they’ve ever done, be it their stuff from the 70’s, 80’s or more recent work (“recent” being a relative term.) That’s not to say they’ve not had any stinkers … have you heard the reggae version of Keep on Loving You? Ick. And despite fan appeal, I can’t stand the talking guitar in 157 Riverside Avenue. But still, for the most part --- LOVE THEM.

I have seen them in concert, as a conservative guess, at least a dozen times. In fact, now that I think about it, probably more like fifteen or twenty. Back in the 80’s, during the height of their popularity, I saw them at least once a year – I ALWAYS went if they were in town, and loved the outdoor concerts best of all. I’ve seen them time and again in OKC, and also in North Dakota and Ohio. Last year, I missed them at the Georgia State Fair by one day when we were out of town and seriously, I almost cried. So when I found out they would be playing here on Mother’s Day this year, I bought tickets and then told Blaine that was what he was giving me for my present. Luckily, he likes them too, so we looked forward to the evening. We didn’t buy the reserved seating down in the front of the amphitheater because it seemed sort of expensive, especially by the time they tack on the online service fees, and amphitheater fees, but still, I couldn’t wait. I never sit down at an REO concert and dance the entire time, so I figured being in the general admission area just meant I would have more space to move around. Good for me; good for the people sitting next to me; not so good for the people behind me who have to witness my uncoordinated-yet-enthusiastic flailing about, but mainly what matters … good for me.

You know my BFF Louis that I talk about on this site from time to time? Well, he and his wife also bought tickets so we could “double date” -- how fun is that? Then, about a week ago, Blaine had to take a good long look at his current physical situation (allergy problems, sinus infection, and partial root canal that the military can’t finish until the end of the month which is killing him) and admit to himself that there was no way he could spend several hours at an outdoor concert. The weather here, just in its difference from Georgia, specifically the winds, has been bothering him for months, and he simply can’t bear to be outside for long at all. So, our “double date” plans turned into “do you mind if I tag along with the two of you?” kind of plans …. But that’s ok, Louis and Lori are good sports, and it was still going to be a great time. I mean, it’s REO, how can you NOT love it???

The concert was tonight, and yep, I loved it. Night Ranger first, which was fun. I must admit I was a little disappointed that they, meaning REO, only played for an hour and a half. And, they didn’t play Tough Guys, which is pretty much grounds for getting my ticket money refunded back to me as far as I’m concerned, but still with the loving it --- I did. We Rode the Storm Out, Rolled with the Changes, Took it on the Run, decided we *could* Fight this Feeling, realized it was Time for Us to Fly, and ultimately agreed to Keep on Loving You, plus a host of others. I danced, smelled marriage-awanna for the first time in years (I said SMELLED it, not smoked it!) and got to enjoy a night of beautiful weather and good music with dear friends. And, since I was the designated driver, did NOT have to pay six bucks for a beer, which is always a plus.

But (you knew there had to be a but, didn’t you?) I had a realization tonight that made me sort of sad. At all the other REO concerts I’ve ever been to, I did the sort of frenzied dancing in the aisles that leaves me sweaty, exhausted, and happy at the end of the night. This time … well …. Louis’ wife was not feeling well and honestly was a good sport just to stick it out until the end of the evening, let alone kick up her heels with me. Louis stood with me to be polite, but isn’t much of a dancer himself. So instead of the wild chaotic mess of terrible (yet extremely fun) dancing that I normally do, tonight was sort of a lame shuffle from side to side. The music was good, and I still had fun, just not the uninhibited rock-fest that it normally is for me.

About twenty feet to my left, there was another group of adults enjoying the concert on a blanket together. Three of them sat on the blanket, having a perfectly lovely time, singing along to the music. But the fourth guy, well, he totally rocked all night. Hair down to his waist, black t-shirt, air guitar like I’ve never seen it before --- this guy was having an AWESOME time and didn’t care if anyone around him thought he was goofy. He wasn’t hurting anyone, wasn’t stumbling drunk or spilling beer on anyone, just having a blast all by himself, rocking out to each and every song.

I thought it was a hoot, watching him, and at one point during the evening I turned to Louis and said, “I’m surprised none of his friends are dancing with him …. He’s having such a good time! You know, twenty years ago, I would totally have gone over there and danced with him.” And Louis just smiled and said, “Yep, you would have.”

So then I got to thinking --- what’s wrong with me? What happened to my sense of spontaniety? My sense of fun and wildness and the freedom to dance all night at a concert if I want to? Since when is it not ok to walk up to wild-hair man and join in his fun?

I shouldn’t be celebrating Mother’s Day, I should be celebrating Great-Grandmother’s Day, because that’s how I act. I am an Old. Fart.

Anyway, I’ve already decided that next year, I’m splurging for the VIP seats. Those fans down there were jamming, and I want to be a part of that. Partly because I am determined to re-discover my own, personal fun streak. And partly because REO has been touring for something like 40 years, and I better take advantage of the fun before I am too old to dance like that. Or they are too old to tour. Or dead. Either of us.

Round Two -- the Waiting

At this stage in the game, we were unpacked and getting settled into our new home in Alabama. I have to admit, though, that the kids and I were having a bit of trouble feeling at home. Did you know? It is FREAKING HOT in Alabama in August. I had the kids enrolled in a Mother’s Day Out program, and had a playgroup lined up, but those things wouldn’t begin until after Labor Day. In the meantime, we hadn’t met any new friends yet, so we just sat in our air-conditioned living room and looked at one another. (Hot, I’m telling you, melt into a little puddle on the sidewalk kind of hot, and there was no way to go outside and entertain ourselves. When it’s too hot to go swimming? That is stinking hot!!!) The kids were one, three and four years old, and we never left the house – just how many games of Candy Land could I be expected to play? How many episodes of Bear in the Big Blue House could I watch before my brains oozed out of my ears?

So, homesick for our friends and Mother’s Group back in Ohio, I loaded the kids up in the van, gave Blaine a kiss goodbye, and took off for a week’s impromptu vacation. We stayed with my girlfriend Kim, who of course knew about the surrogacy and knew that I was in the middle of the dreaded two week wait.

I had done a home pregnancy test five days after the transfer and it was negative. I was trying really hard not to be pessimistic in my thinking …. But I was already worried this would be a repeat of our previous failed cycle.

I had brought one more home pregnancy test with me on the trip, and was able to contain myself only until day eight. I took the test mid-afternoon, and had convinced myself that even if it were negative – again -- that I was still testing too early, and it wasn’t concentrated urine, and perhaps the moon of Venus was not in alignment with the star from Uganda, or whatever, so not to be too disappointed.

All those years I was trying to get pregnant, I never, EVER, had a home pregnancy test turn positive, so as I waited there in Kim’s bathroom, I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for. I was sitting on the lid of the toilet, holding this stick in my hand, watching for a pink line, expecting nothing, when all of a sudden a faint, thin line began to appear. I started squinting, and turning the stick this way and that, holding it up to the light. The line did not look like the “pregnant” example on the box, but there was definitely something there. Oh, geez, was it defective???

I went running downstairs and made my girlfriend look at it (that’s a true measure of friendship, isn’t it, that she didn’t reflexively jerk away in disgust when I shoved a stick I had just URINATED ON right under her nose???) She kept saying, “I think you’re pregnant!” but I couldn’t be sure. It just didn’t feel right to get too excited this early. So I waited 24 hours, took another test, and hot damn if that line wasn’t back, and darker!

I was thrilled, and terrified at the same time that it might be a mistake. The first person I called was Blaine, to tell him what I hoped was great news, and ask his opinion about whether or not I should call the IP’s. At first he said no, it was still too early and we shouldn’t get their hopes up, in case it was wrong. Plus, my counselor was very clear to discourage me from telling them the results. Not to be all negative Nancy, but positive home tests don't always equal a viable pregnancy. But, then, Blaine reconsidered and said this news was too exciting to keep to ourselves, but make sure they understood it was ONLY a home test.

So I immediately called my IM at home, with butterflies in my stomach. She didn’t answer, and I remembered that they were going out to dinner that night with family. I thought that surrounded by family, this would either be a great time, or a lousy time, to tell them. Again, not having the stamina to keep news like this to myself, I hoped for the first option and called her on her cell.

What were we talking about again?

Although our primary concern, of course, was that my IM not be harmed by the medicine goof, we were also naturally curious what this meant for our cycle. Disappointing as it might be, it’s better to scrap a doomed cycle early; as opposed to going through the work and expense of transferring when the doctors are certain the outcome will be dismal.

So I stayed on my meds, we waited that next week, and the doctors watched her very closely. And, you know what? Believe it or not, she responded BETTER than she had the previous cycle! In fact, when the time came for the egg retrieval, not only did her ovaries look good, but she had more eggs by far than she had the first time. Nineteen eggs, in fact, which is a great number for anyone, let alone a 39-yr old woman who had taken her meds wrong that month. So, while the doctors did a small bit of head-scratching in bewilderment, we all agreed to take the good news and just run with it.

Not only did she have MORE eggs, but more of them fertilized, and they appeared stronger than the previous ones. Strong enough, in fact, that we were able to push the transfer out to day five, and transfer them as blastocyst embryos, which is always hopeful news, as by the time the embryos reach that 100+ celled stage, they are older and stronger, and often have higher success rates.

The clinic also suggested a process called assisted hatching, which means, in a nutshell, they take the embryos right before the transfer and rough up the edges a bit. I’m not exactly sure of the mechanics of it, but it’s thought that with slightly rougher edges to them, they might be able to attach to the uterus better. Not, I have to guess, glide right out like little kids on a slip and slide. Hey, anything to increase our odds sounded good to us, so we agreed to try it.

The day of transfer, once again, my IF and I put out feelers for transferring three. And once again, the doctor was emphatic that no, he wouldn’t chance a triplet pregnancy. “No need --- we’ve got perfect lining, perfect embryos, perfect transfer” was his response. I felt like looking up from the table and saying cynically, “Yeah, you said that last time.”

And once again, we entered the dreaded two week wait.

The Distraction

So, I took the suggestion of bringing my iPod with me to the dentist today when I got a filling done. Um ...….. not so much with the helping. Maybe it distracted me a *little*, but not much. I was still tense and anxious in the chair, gripping the armrests, trying to remember to breathe, and constantly worrying that a person can actually drown in their own saliva.

Hate. It.

It didn’t help any that I made a big production of telling the dentist and his assistant that I was listening to my “soothing easy listening” play list …. Lots of Paul Potts and the London Symphony Orchestra, Sarah Brightman, Enya, etc. It’s actually one of my favorite play lists and is what I listen to whenever I’m feeling melancholy. Or introspective. Or grown up. Or just need to belt out some Air Supply or ballads by Meatloaf.

So imagine my embarrassment when half-way through the filling, in an attempt to be friendly, the dentist leaned over and asked what was playing …. I hit the wheel, only to highlight Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam. “All Cried Out”. Yeah, there’s some highbrow music if ever I heard any.

And despite the fact the dentist and his office staff are very nice, it’s still one of my least favorite places on earth. And so I called Blaine afterwards to whine (incoherently, because half of my face was completely numb) about how much I hate the dentist and woe is me I had to get a filling today.

And he, with the unbelievable amount of dental work and struggle he has had the past five years gave me the following invaluable piece of advice: shut up.

So I think I will.

Trish in Leeburg, VA wonders: “And Skating? How many things can your schools cram into a single week?!?!”

Well, Trish, in addition to the Skate Night last night, this is how the rest of our school week looks: Today was the fourth grade field trip (8 until 1) to the National Cowboy Museum; tomorrow morning is Muffins with Mom at 7:15am, then I volunteer on Thursday afternoons in Kellen’s classroom, then after school I am helping decorate the stage for the 5th grade Honors Chorus concert, which is tomorrow night. Friday is Hat Day, the Knighting Assembly first thing in the morning, then an all-day field trip for the Gifted Program to the local zoo. Next week I have field trips to chaperone on Tuesday and Friday, and Wednesday and Thursday are Track and Field days.

Apparently once the kids at this school take their end-of-the-year standardized testing, there is no need for them to learn any more, so they are never in the classroom. But please don’t think I’m complaining. I enjoy all these activities with my kids (while they are still young enough to want me around; I’m going to take it while I can) and I know that about 48 hours after school lets out for the summer they will be bored stiff and complaining that there is nothing to do. And looking to me to entertain them.

Hmmm, they all three have dental appointments for the first week of June. That should be fun. I’ll just be sure they take their iPods!