I was given a profile for “my guys” in September of 2008. I had started the surrogate process in July, so this was kind of the moment I was waiting for, like Christmas. My husband and I sat down and sorted through 15 pages of the couple’s thoughtful answers about each other, their decade-and-a-half long relationship, their desire for children, and almost 30 pictures of them traveling around the world, celebrating holidays, and capturing candid moments. I instantly knew I wanted to be a part of their lives—a big part.
When I first signed on as a surrogate, I had a picture in my head of the typical couple I would work with: an older, heterosexual couple who had struggled with infertility for years. I just assumed that those were the people looking for surrogates. When I began working with my screening team, they informed me that gay couples made up the largest population of intended parents. I was shocked. I wasn’t aware of the baby-demand within this population, but quickly realized how much sense that made.
But I digress. When I met “my guys,” my husband and I walked into a small, comfortable conference room and were greeted by two tall (clearly nervous) British men with blue eyes and crooked smiles. They stood and hugged me with such a sense of relief and gratitude; I hadn’t realized how much I already meant to them.
Throughout the journey, they were there for me whenever I needed them. Emails flew across the Atlantic after every OBGYN appointment, and lengthy weekly chat sessions ensued. They came to the U.S. for the 12 and 20 week ultrasounds. They were involved but didn’t micromanage, instead deferring to me as the pregnancy “expert” and trusting that I would take care of their little peanut. When we got to the gender ultrasound, I gave much thought to how lucky this baby will be to have these two men as fathers. Active, fearless, intelligent, compassionate, tolerant, and affectionate, these guys could be either expert fort-builders or tea party guests. Their son would have all the qualities of an Eagle Scout. Their daughter would be an unstoppable force of confidence. I was excited for them (and their child) either way.
The couple ended up with a little boy. He is 3 ½ now and he is intelligent, adorable, polite (highlighted by the cute British accent), and has more stamps in his passport than most adults do. His daddies took to parenting immediately. They were in the delivery room, bonding and crying the second he was born. And now they spend their time creating a loving and structured world for him.
I couldn’t be happier to have carried for these men. They cherish me and are part of my family now. While carrying for a gay couple wasn’t something I initially envisioned for my surrogacy journey, I can’t imagine it having been any different.