Author Archives: stopsurrogacynowuk

“Birthday Girl” – Guest Post from L.K Agnes

Surrogacy in the Ukraine is not the focus of our campaign but the commodification of women, the buying and selling of babies and the tragic loss of life in Ukraine is impossible to ignore.

This is a short story piece intended to explore the desperately sad realities of surrogacy in Ukraine which has been in the news again since Russia invaded on 22nd February 2022. This is a fictional piece, based on what we understand to be the real-life situations women are facing.

We thank L K Agnes for sharing her creative skills with us.

Birthday Girl

The blanket Nataliya is lying on does nothing to mitigate the unforgiving marble floor, and the soft, sweeping curves of the metro station belie the cold, hard reality of her situation. She can’t get comfortable, she is sore, tender, ripped and stitched. There is no position that helps. She swallows another two painkillers, the one thing she made sure she had with her as she made her way underground, swept along on a dark tide of fear and determination. A woman touches her hand.

‘You’re bleeding, let me help.’

Nataliya sits up, wincing in pain as she does so, and sees her blanket soaked in blood. She doesn’t care she just wants to sleep. She tries to dismiss the woman with a weak wave of her hand as she lies down again. The woman calls out,

‘We need a doctor here, quickly!’

Another woman comes running over, puts a hand on her head, says she has a slight fever. They tell her she needs to sit up and stay awake as they prop her back against the wall. The second older woman points at her front.

‘Where is your baby?’

What can she say? Only a few days ago she was in the clinic, her baby still inside her. She wasn’t paying much attention to the news, just looking forward to getting all this over with. They would both have a good life, she would be able to afford to buy her own place, and baby would be sleeping in the beautiful nursery Mhairi had shown her in the photos on her phone.

‘We wanted to get away from all the pink and girly clichés, so we chose a soft dove grey. What do you think?’

Nataliya thinks grey a strange choice for a baby’s room but knows better than to say so. The wallpaper is an intricate design of flowers and birds, so she admires that and coos over the pretty white crib. This baby is one day over the due date but her contractions haven’t started so she is sitting up in bed, reading glossy magazines, waiting for her new life to begin. Mhairi and Donal are staying nearby, visiting three times a day. Mhairi keeps wanting photos of her, her hand on Nataliya’s bump, the two of them leaning in, a hand on each shoulder, Donal with his arm around Mhairi as she clasps Nataliya’s hands. Mhairi keeps saying how these will be precious memories to show her baby as she grows up. Nataliya wishes they would leave her alone. She pretends to sleep hoping they will take the hint and leave. She hears Mhairi whispering to the doctor as she dozes.

‘Can’t you induce her or do a membrane sweep or something? We need to get her out of here and we don’t know how much time we’ve got left.’

The doctor says he wants to give it one more day, give baby a chance to come of her own accord.

‘We might not have one more day,’ says Mhairi. Donal shushes her, says she’s over reacting, no-one seriously thinks they are in danger. For the first time Nataliya begins to feel uneasy, she checks the news on her phone when they’ve gone. It’s fine, nothing has changed.

That night she hears the explosions, far away in the distance but near enough for her to understand everything has changed and that the unthinkable has happened. Mhari and Donal arrive ashen faced, just after six o’clock in the morning. They have a smart looking Asian woman in tow, who they they introduce as their lawyer. She hears the lawyer woman arguing with the doctor outside her room, just before they come in to tell her she is going through for a caesarean. Her waters break as she is being prepped for theatre.

‘Tell them baby is making her own way here, after all,’ says the doctor.

Five hours later, after a rushed and brutal delivery, she produces a beautiful baby girl. Nineteen stitches, one for every year she has been alive. Aisling is not the name Nataliya would have chosen but it’s pretty nonetheless. As they wheel her back to the ward, she feels an unexpected surge of love for the child, overwhelming her with it’s force, and she starts to weep. She didn’t expect this. She’d felt nothing but relief after giving up her first baby for adoption two years ago. She was so ashamed, she just tried to ignore it and by the time Bushka finally saw what was going on, it was too late for her to have an abortion. She didn’t regret it, she knew she could never have loved a baby planted in her with such violence, it would have been a constant reminder of her defilement. She naively thought this would be the same, except this time she would be in control. She realised now what a terrible misconception that was.

Donal and Mhairi are sitting by the bedside, whispering about some Irish senator who has assured them she will get them all out. Nataliya feels lucky she has people to help her escape this, and no family to leave behind. She was brought up by her beloved Bushka, after her mother abandoned her, but Bushka died nearly a year ago now and Nataliya has been fending for herself as best she can since then. She’s not stupid, she knows what will happen., Bushka has been preparing her for this all her life. All her dreams are shattered and she’ll have to flee from this city and the only home she’s ever known but at least she’ll be safe and the money will help her make a new start. The lawyer woman asks her to sign some documents, a birth certificate stating Mhairi and Donal are Aisling’s parents. Nataliya shakes her head,

‘I can’t do it, not today. I need a little more time…’

‘There is no time and we need to get everyone out as soon as possible. Once you sign, you will be paid the final instalment. You don’t want to be left here with a baby to look after.’

She reluctantly signs, her tears dropping onto the document and making the ink run. At least they will be safe and together for a while. When the baby starts to cry, the nurse passes her to Nataliya without thinking, sensing that’s what the infant needs. When Aisling starts to nuzzle, she instinctively tries to put to her baby to her breast.

‘No!’ shouts Mhairi, grabbing the baby. ‘No! No, you must express, that was the agreement. You mustn’t bond with her.’ She runs to fetch the nurse who quickly attaches a pump to her left breast.

‘Can you do both together, ‘ asks Mhairi. ‘We need to get out as soon as possible.’ The nurse comes back and attaches another pump to her right breast. The machines continue their aggressive suction as Nataliya cries for her baby and her baby cries for her. Donal checks his phone as the nurse removes the pumps and hands the bottles over to him.

‘The transport will be here in a few minutes,’ he says. ‘Take this so we can feed her in the car and then we should have enough formula to last until we reach the border. We need to head downstairs to meet them now. There’s no time to spare.’

‘There is no worry. I can express milk on the journey,’ says Nataliya as she throws back the cover to try and stand. The nurse comes over and tells her to stay in bed.

‘But we are leaving, I must to get dressed.’

Mhairi looks at Donal, neither of them say anything. Nataliya feels her spine turn to ice when she finally understands the meaning of their silence. The lawyer rolls her eyes and places an envelope down on the hospital table, saying in a clipped tone,

‘Only Aisling will be leaving with us. That was the contract you signed. Here is the final payment. It’s in cash because there are problems with the banking system.’

‘But you said everyone need to get out?’

‘I meant Aisling and her parents.’

She hurls the envelope across the room. ‘She’s my baby, you can’t take her without me!’

‘Aisling is Mr and Mrs Donovan’s baby now. They have fulfilled their side of the contract We have people working 24/7 to get the babies out safely but there is no authorisation to take anyone else. You don’t have a visa and we need to go now. They’re expecting further shelling tonight.’

‘Then just take me with you to the border. Please, you can’t leave me here!’

The lawyer shakes her head. ‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible.’

Mhairi passes Aisling back to Nataliya as she picks up the baby bag, stuffed with the nappies, bottles, wipes and blankets and a cuddly koala bear with a joey in its pouch. Mhairi told her the bear is called Natty and will help Aisling understand what a surrogate is.

‘Here, you can kiss her goodbye – we’ll never be able to thank you enough for this, Nataliya. You’ve made all our dreams come true.’

She buries her face into her baby’s scalp, hugs her close and breathes her in for the last time. Donal reaches over to take her. Nataliya refuses to let her go but the nurses hold her arms as Donal prises Aisling from her grip and tucks her into the baby carrier. The three of them practically run out of the room without a backward glance, taking her beautiful daughter with them.

‘It’s for the best,’ says the nurse, injecting her with a sedative. ‘She’ll have a good life over there.’

They send her home before dark, the shelling is getting nearer and they don’t have a bomb shelter at the clinic. As she lets herself into the tiny apartment, she’s bombarded by a barrage of emotions, grief, anger, fear, shock, shame and numbness. Numb she can cope with. She needs to focus on staying alive and so decides to move her bed into the windowless bathroom, no glass to shatter in the blast and a bath full of water to put out any fires. Advice from her Bushka who had always feared this day might come. Nataliya is glad her grandmother is dead now, that she doesn’t have to endure the terror of this for a second time in her life. She feels a pull on her stitches as she drags the small single mattress from her bedroom. She sits on an ice pack, glued to her phone, weeping as she scrolls through footage of a town less than an hour away being shelled. Blocks like hers, shattered and derelict in the space of a few seconds. She checks her bag. Pads, painkillers, blanket, bottled water, cereal bars and a polaroid of Aisling. They wouldn’t let her have a picture of Aisling on her own, so it is Aisling and Mhairi, Mhairi holding the baby like a trophy. She told her many times that Aisling would be told from the beginning about her ‘tummy mummy.’

‘She’ll always know what a gift you gave us. We’ll make a book with photos of you and pictures of Kharkiv. She’ll see what a beautiful city she came from. We will always be grateful to you.’

Not grateful enough to take me with you, she thinks, as she takes the nail scissors from the bathroom cabinet and snips Mhairi out the picture. She wonders if Aisling will hate them when she finds out they left her birth mother in a war zone and tries not to hope she does. She doubles over as she recalls the gut punch of pure love she felt when she first saw her, the savage cruelty of her attachment to a child she’d already sold. In that moment she knew she could never let her go and knew she had no choice. Aisling’s screams combined with her own, as they tore her from her arms, are echoing inside her skull as the air raid siren sounds. She didn’t believe this level of pain was possible. The tear she suffered has left her in agony but the emotional pain of having her baby snatched away from her is worse, and she has only herself to blame. Now her country is being ripped apart too, the world she knew is ended. She considers taking all the painkillers washed down with vodka but she can’t bring herself to do it, what if they get turned back and her baby needs her. She grabs her things and stumbles out into the street, heading for the subway.

Now she is bleeding and terrified in an underground station, no longer knowing whether she has a home to go back to. The second older woman shakes her again.

‘Where is your baby?’

She looks down and sees the milk leaking through her clothes. She forgot to pack the tablets to dry it up. Her breasts are hard and agonising to touch, she wishes she had the pump with her it would be such a relief to be rid of the pain in at least one part of her body.

The old woman speaks again. ‘My name is Olga, what’s your name?’

‘Nataliya,’ she whispers.

‘OK Nataliya. I used to be a midwife. We’re going to help you but please tell us where is your baby?’

A week ago she was proud of what she was doing. She was told it was an empowering choice and the most lovely gift she could give to Donal and Mhairi. Now she feels a shame deeper than the tunnels they are sheltering in. She sold her baby and she doesn’t want this kind woman to think badly of her.

‘My baby is dead.’

‘Oh my darling, I’m so sorry.’ She moves to hug her but Nataliya flinches from her touch. ‘I do need to examine you.’ She calls for help and people gather round, holding up blankets to create a screen. ‘OK, we need a doctor, as soon as possible. She needs blood and maybe antibiotics. Does anyone have any they can spare until we can get her to hospital?’

As people rush off to see if they can get hold of drugs, Olga undoes Nataliya’s top and gently helps her to start expressing her milk, the pain starts to ease. The first woman rushes over.

‘There is a hungry baby here, his parents left this morning to try to get their family out of Moskovskyi district. They should have been back hours ago but no news, no contact. His Bushka is frantic. Can we?’

Nataliya nods as they pass her a baby, bigger than Aisling maybe a few months old. The baby resists latching on, he doesn’t recognise her, the unfamiliar smell of her skin, but then he finds her nipple and suckles hungrily. Nataliya feels nothing at first but then she sees the little boys face, his big blue eyes, how greedy and determined he is to feed and to live. It soothes them both. His Bushka is sobbing, a mix of grief and gratitude. Olga rubs Nataliya’s back and gives her a sip of water.

‘Well done, good girl.’

He settles after his feed and his grandmother rocks him to sleep as Nataliya bleeds out onto the cold, hard marble. Olga wipes away her own tears as she gently closes Nataliya’s eyes and covers her face with the blanket.

Egg Donation and Surrogacy – Guest Post from Kat Howard

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After being a three-time egg donor through a British based egg clinic, and whilst preparing for my fourth round, I recently withdrew from the donor programme. Why? I had a few reasons – questionable treatment of my health by doctors, concerns over my own health, a changing attitude towards egg donation – but most of all, the support by egg donation clinics of surrogacy.

To provide some background, I became a first time egg donor at the age of 24. Whilst I admit freely my main motivation was money, I saw the decision as something positive, a choice I was making that would help another woman somewhere in the country. And I will acknowledge that the British egg donation process is far more transparent and far less exploitative than other countries. At all stages of the donation process, I had the probable risks explained to me, both long and short term. I was given genetic counselling, to make sure I fully understood the implications of egg donation should my eggs be used successfully. And whilst I know I donated for the money, egg donation in Britain carries a flat fee- £750. A good amount, yes, but nowhere near the exploitative amounts that egg donation can reach in countries such as America, where donations can be paid by amounts upwards of $7,500. Women are also limited in how many times they can donate- with 10 being the maximum. So yes, you can earn £7,500 in all, but this would be over a number of years, and few women donate this many times. I can honestly say I left my first egg donation cycle feeling happy with the process, and proud of what I had chosen to do, and I planned to donate the full 10 times (naïve, I know).

So why did I change my mind? I mentioned above a number of reasons, some of which have been spoken about by others. The long-term health risks for example are raised often by organisations, given that there have been links suggested between the egg donation process and increased risks of breast cancer due to the ovarian stimulants used in the process. Egg clinics and egg donation centres have attempted to argue against these, citing poor studies or external factors, but the potential for risk remains, given that there are few to no long term studies. In addition, my changing attitude towards egg donation has been one shared by many other feminists. I recognised it more as exploitative, especially in countries outside of the UK, where women can be coerced into the process either through external pressures, or financial means. These are often young women for whom the money may be a lifeline during a difficult time, and so feel they must donate despite the health risks. I noticed also how this was true even in the UK, with egg clinics targeting their adverts towards young women, some as young as university age.

On a more personal level, I felt increasingly uncomfortable with how my own physical health had been treated during the egg donation process. The average number of eggs usually taken per cycle is 12-16 I was told, yet during my first cycle I had 24 eggs taken. This left me so dehydrated that I had to be put on a drip, and the half-hour recovery time I had been scheduled for turned into 2 hours. The clinic needed no additional written permission to do this, I was simply deemed a ‘good donor’. During my second cycle, my heart rate dropped so much in the surgery that I had to be woken from the anaesthetic. This was only after however the surgeon debated putting me back under, so all the eggs available could be collected. This was decided against eventually, so I was sent home with only one ovary having had the eggs collected. The experience left me with a sense of guilt, as if I was responsible for this surgical failure. I remember breaking down in tears after they let me leave. Physically meanwhile, my body had to get rid of the other eggs in my next period, resulting in a far more painful and heavy experience than usual.

But the fundamental reason I am no longer an egg donor is the link between egg donation and surrogacy. In the UK, you cannot ask your donated eggs to be withheld from use in surrogacy. When you initially donate, you are told that you can ask for your eggs to not be used in any case, as long as it does not contravene the Equality Act 2010 protected characteristics. Yet, when I asked just before I planned to start my fourth cycle, if I could withhold usage from surrogacy, I was told no.

Well, not quite ‘no’ initially. I was actually initially told I could restrict the usage of my donated eggs. It was only when my partner (going through the process for the first time) asked and received a contradictory answer, that it became clear that there had been a ‘mix-up’ or ‘unintentional miscommunication’ in letting me know that I could restrict how my eggs are used, something that I suspect was an attempt to get me through a fourth cycle before letting me know.

Apparently, to withhold from surrogacy would be ‘indirect discrimination’ towards male homosexual couples, and single men. This is despite the fact that single men are not a protected characteristic, and it is not discrimination to be opposed to surrogacy. Being opposed to surrogacy is in no way a reflection of how I view gay parents (or single male parents, or heterosexual couples, all of which access surrogacy) but a moral stance against a practice that can have immense harm on women. I believe there is a huge difference between egg donation in the UK and surrogacy, the latter of which carries much greater risk to the woman carrying, emotionally, mentally and physically, and it should not be automatically assumed that all egg donors are supportive of such a harmful practice. The refusal to separate these two is incredibly alarming- women are ‘recruited’ into being egg donors through the promise of helping a fellow woman, and are at no point informed their eggs may be used for surrogacy unless they directly ask (as I chose to). Many women would feel less comfortable being egg donors knowing this means they would be supporting the practice of surrogacy, and this I believe is why this is not mentioned during discussions with egg donation clinics.

I would not complete an egg donation cycle again, and am in the process of having my eggs destroyed by the clinic so they cannot be used in future. It’s hard to say if I regret the process. I like to think I have helped women somewhere be able to have the child they want, and if so I wish them well. I would certainly not advocate for egg donation, or ever tell another woman to go through the process themselves however. It carries far too much risk, and actively supports the narrative that women’s bodies and their reproductive capabilities are consumerist products, and that is not a narrative that can exist in a world of sex equality.

Surrogacy in the Media – a review of BBC Three’s “The Surrogates”

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Surrogacy is often explored through TV soaps and dramas, the BBC’s The Nest being a recent example. This short series explored issues around the age of a surrogate mother and how much she is making her own choice, if it is an informed choice and if she being coerced by the wealthy, childless couple who take her under their wing. It was effective in examining how much your body is your own when you are carrying within a human being that ‘belongs’ to someone else and how far your motives are based on a previous trauma.

The BBC looked more closely at surrogacy in a real-life setting with The Surrogates on BBC Three. Here we explore their reasons for engaging with surrogacy. We recognise that quotes here can be taken out of context so we encourage readers to watch the programme (available on iPlayer) for themselves. We provide some background and including the reasons for the Commissioning Parents’ involvement in surrogacy, but wish to stay focused on the Surrogate Mothers.

Caitlin, single mother of two has Baby Joey, for her boss Kate and husband Matt.

Caitlin is the only surrogate mother featured who made the offer privately, and didn’t go through a surrogacy agency, though the couple applied to one after crowdfunding for the IVF treatment. Following the birth, Kate and Matt separate.

Kate employs Caitlin at a baby-related website company. Caitlin is a single mum of 2, having split 2 years ago from their father and she has been in a new relationship for a year. Kate has had two miscarriages and a stillbirth.

“One we had to terminate at 20 weeks, stillbirth at 32, miscarriage at 13.5 weeks. I felt relief at the miscarriage and decided to go for surrogacy. If we decided to try again the doc said there is no reason not to but I couldn’t go through that again. I don’t want to bring a child into the world with 9 months of sheer terror.”

The embryo was made from Kate’s egg and partners sperm and implanted into Caitlin’s womb. “If you are choosing somebody to have your baby then you want to choose the best possible attributes, a young fleshy womb, which is what Caitlin has” says Kate.

Caitlin does come across as being motivated by kindness and her ability to help “If someone needed something and you were in a position to give it to them you would. Surrogacy was never on my radar before as I didn’t know anyone who needed it…the selling point of me is I am very fertile.” Caitlin’s fertility is what drives her, but more as a reason to be embarrassed.

“I worried that – I’m not sure jealousy is the right word – I felt really conscious I didn’t want to bring up my children in the office so as soon as I realised there was something I could maybe do to help I suppose I maybe jumped on that a little bit. I don’t have to be the bad guy I can be the good guy!”

(To this Kate replies “I don’t want you to feel that you have to rent out your womb just so you can talk about your amazing children!”)

When asked if she could change her mind prior to flying to the mainland for implantation, Caitlin said she had joked about going on the run but in a serious reply she said she didn’t think she could go on working with Kate if she changed her mind. Clearly quite a lot rests on her keeping to the agreement, both for her friendship and for her job, the income with which she supports her children.

We do not hear directly from Kate’s husband Matt but Caitlin’s boyfriend does feature before they split up, he jokes that “I have to ask Kate if I’m allowed to have sex with my girlfriend”. Towards the end of the pregnancy Caitlin is upset at the end of this relationship.

“There’s quite a lot of putting a brave face on. For me there wasn’t anything wrong with it [the relationship]. There was so much I was looking forward to at the end of the surrogacy, plans for the future, it has taken the shine off of it all.”

The stress of the break up leads Kate to be very worried about the baby. She takes Caitlin for a scan. Kate recognises that her worries are based on her own experiences of her stillbirth, “We are having the scan as we are very, very worried about Caitlin and I need to know that the baby is ok. I would start to feel really, really nervous if we were getting towards 40 weeks…(to the Dr) is it worth discussing doing a sweep? I feel really bad I’m like ‘let’s do that’ and it’s not me that has to do it!”

Though a light-hearted moment in amongst the anxiety, it is a timely reminder of whose body it is, who is carrying the baby and who has to endure the pain and discomfort of the procedures.

During labour Caitlin seems to want to make the experience for Kate and Matt as easy as possible, by minimising her response to pain, “ I was trying to look like I wasn’t in pain or struggling, Kate had quite a good look on her face but Matt looked so very worried sometimes. When I opted for pain relief they were relieved!”

The employer/employee power dynamic is recognised by Kate also “I’m pretty sure I have let her get away with more than I would normally” and Caitlin’s maternity leave and return to the office is not mentioned, nor are the ‘expenses’ that Caitlin is claiming.

The only time expenses are mentioned in any details are in Emma’s story.

Single mother, Emma , to 2 year old Jacob, living in a studio apartment is using her own egg for a married gay couple, Kevin 35 and Aki 40.

Emma explains her family background and her financial motivations to provide a home with a garden from Jacob. When detailing her expenses, she points out that Kevin and Aki pay for her son to go to a childminder two days a week, that life insurance is a ‘must’, and she compares it having a company credit card and that the client is the baby.

Compared to national average, Emma’s quoted expenses are low at £7,600 (roughly half of the lower end of the average is £15-20k) but she does say she will have to ask for more as she cannot be expected to fund a pregnancy as it’s not hers.

“We risk death, illness and surgery. I thought quite a few times that I could die. The money takes away the edge off being a surrogate, we definitely don’t do it for financial gain.”

Emma seems proud of her ability to decompartmentalise, “I think you need to have a certain mindset, you know from the beginning it’s not your baby. I’m not giving away something personal which sounds silly as it’s my egg. I create loads of eggs every month so what’s one egg to help someone? Because I know it’s not my baby I feel like I’m not giving it away I’m more handing it over to the original parents.”

(Women are born with all the eggs they will ever have and generally only one egg is released each month.)

This is discussed more when she speaks to her best friend as Emma’s future role in Baby Mia’s life doesn’t seem to be clear. She hopes the fathers will involve her and she appears to consider this arrangement as a life long friendship, a new form of family even. Perhaps she is seeking some paternal figures for her son and considers the arrangement to be a more of a co-parenting situation. She wants Baby Mia to know who she is and offer a female presence as she grows up, but this is contradicted by her earlier statement and her rejection of the word or role of mother. Emma says her baby girl won’t feel like her daughter but she seems conflicted when in the next sentence she says the baby will have her genetics so if her daughter grows up to be arty or show an interest in nature she will think “that comes from me”. Her feelings are confused, wanting to recognise the biological connection but also distance herself, perhaps as an act of self-preservation.

It is later on that we learn how the surrogacy process for Emma has had a profound emotional impact, to the point of ‘healing’ her previously suicidal thoughts.

“Before meeting Kevin and Aki I felt very very low, living alone, dealing with Jacob as a single parent it all evolved from that. Even though I had my son I felt that my life didn’t actually have much meaning. I didn’t want to continue with life. Building that connection with Kevin and Aki and the realisation of what I could do for them as well has given my life a whole new meaning. From the moment we knew we were pregnant, seeing the happiness on their faces, has slowly healed me a little bit.”

Post-natal depression isn’t mentioned but this statement demonstrates that Emma had several mental health concerns before entering into this surrogacy arrangement and though they met online through an agency there is no mention of any counselling or therapy she might be able to benefit from to help her deal with her feelings. She already has plans to give Baby Mia a sibling. More on Emma’s surrogacy pregnancy and her surrogacy arrangement is here.

It is difficult to examine the next example centring the surrogate mother, as the commissioning parent’s narrative dominates this part of the documentary. After he connects with one woman at a ‘social’ (who he rejects as she isn’t willing to get pregnant as soon as he wishes) he meets Faye, who I shall focus on, but before doing so it’s was striking how often the word ‘need’ was used by David.

David is a single man. After an attempt to co-parent with a friend ended in miscarriage, he pursues surrogacy. He says “as a gay man I don’t have access to a woman” (though the same could be said of any single man) and “as a gay man I don’t have access to female bodes, that’s not part of my experience.” He had previously considered adoption but his child needs to be part of him and to have a genetic connection. His view is that “everyone deserves to be a parent if they want to be a parent”. And that surrogacy is his only option, but this is because he has rejected others. “I need this to happen…I feel it in every fibre of my being, I need to be a Dad.”

Faye, is the mother of two young sons, with her husband Lee. Faye and David feature here on BBC’s Woman’s Hour.

She may have been drawn into the ‘surrogacy community’ almost by accident, but again to fill some kind of void.

“I saw a facebook thing of surrogates and there were people doing selfies in the car on their way to socials, I just absolutely fell in love with all these lovely looking people that would make amazing parents and I thought how would I feel being a surrogate, can I do it can I do it?”

She appears to seek to prove to people that she is strong and not overly-emotional by being able to give a baby away.

“I’m a very emotional person but I don’t see that as a negative, I want to prove to other people that I am strong enough, I can do this. But I feel like it is also about the injustice for amazing people who want to be parents but can’t. I want others to have what we’ve got.”

(It may not have been her intention, but framing David’s sexuality as an injustice is an interesting viewpoint. One I may expand upon that in later blog…)

Faye sees her bond to be with David, not the baby and she also places value on her fertility and what her body can do but as a great favour for someone else, “society’s view of women is that we are driven by our hormones and emotions to be mums and they have no idea that when hosting a pregnancy for someone else your bond can be with that baby’s parent rather than the baby, there’s so much more depth to it.”

Later we learn more about Faye’s deeper purpose, perhaps similar to Emma, that through the surrogacy she is looking to heal, to look at herself differently.

“I used to be a social worker. I hit a breaking point in the last few years. I was having a lot of therapy, focusing on self esteem. I put my dog first before my needs! It’s just how I was raised really. I think about having a low opinion of myself does have an impact on this, like now, going into surrogacy it’s occurred to me that maybe I felt so shit about myself that I kind of wanted to show people that I am a nice person I can do nice tings, and that would make me feel more positive.”

Maybe surrogacy is a form of therapy for Faye and there is something in her childhood that has meant she has little self-worth.

“I get this opportunity to show my boys this important thing that money doesn’t matter but relationships and kindness and helping others is important.”

Children can extract all manner of messages from an act adults carry out. Another message could be that women are vessels for men.

One very poignant moment for me as a viewer was when Baby Miles was in David’s arms but still connected via the umbilical cord, as she lay in the birthing pool, naked and exposed and supplementary, as the focus shifts from her body and the baby within, to the baby is no longer a part of her. The documentary showed even extended family coming to see Baby Miles, before Faye is shown holding him.

Maddie 29 and Alex and Rich and Baby Hannah form a team through Surrogacy UK (who, incidentally, are mentioned several times throughout the documentary series and they are directly involved with the Law Commission’s work and the APPG Surrogacy reform group).

“The ultimate dream is just to be useful to someone who desperately wants their own child and can’t without some help.”

Maddie has two sons and is in a same-sex relationship, as they chose to go for home insemination using Maddie’s egg, Baby Hannah is half-sister to her children.

It’s possible that her family background is at the root of her involvement in surrogacy, “what the opposite of a nuclear family? I see what I’m helping Alex and Rich to do is something I have never really known. They have been married a long time they are bringing a child into a very conventional – even though they are two dads – progression of a relationship.”

They agree to try home inseminations every month for 6 months and this takes it emotional toll on Maddie as it is only towards the end of that period she becomes pregnant.

“I feel like I might be leading them on even though I’m not. They’ve let themselves imagine it now so to think that might not happen just feels really cruel. It’ss hard not feel hopeful and not protect yourself, it’s a lot of conflict, you need to be quite strong. It’s quite stressful!”

When asked about whether she has revealed any of this to Alex and Rich she says no s “none of it, they would be really upset, I just want to do it for them”. There is an element of delivering on a promise and, perhaps similar to Caitlin trying to hide her pain and put a brave face on, hiding your true emotions and worries. Maddie is thrilled when she does get pregnant and laughs that she “can’t pull out now too late for that!”

At the birth when Hannah was on rather than inside her body, her immediate reaction was to hesitate, she seemed to want Alex and Rich to touch her first. Maddie was looking right at them for their reactions.

“Alex and Rich are allowing me to be part of their family biologically with my DNA and it feels really good that they want that as part of their child.” A sense of validation maybe, to have been chosen, to be good enough. I think it’s possible that Maddie was ‘paying it forward’ with this surrogacy arrangement and as a lesbian she feels she can be useful to another same-sex couple. There is more on Maddie’s story here.

Jemma is a full time mum of 3, married to Steven and works for Surrogacy UK. We meet Jemma at the end of her first surrogacy pregnancy (known as ‘Baby K’ for Sunny and Shayla) and before her second surrogacy pregnancy (Baby Jasper for Jamie and Kitty).

Though Jemma claims that “the reason why I wanted to become a surrogate was to help create a family and a friendship with a couple that was lifelong”, but her language changes as she talks about it being an addiction, that there is a an emotional ‘high’.

“it’s my thing, my buzz, it’s my kind of high…It is so addictive, and when I spoke to surrogate before I had Baby K I understood that it was very very addictive but now I’ve had her and I’m living that euphoric feeling of how we all feel….I am officially addicted to surrogacy.”

Though not motivated by money the difference of status between her and the intended parents, at least for the first surrogate baby she has is notable. She remembers the day her family met them at their home.

“There was this huge driveway and Madison was in the back of the car going mummy they are bloody rich! Gosh how the other half live, they’ve got all of this and they’ve not the the one thing that is really important to them.”

Jemma is very honest about how this gives her a sense of power.

“You’re powerful, it’s a powerful thing to have [fertility]. Their future is literally in your hands…I made a family, who can say that? That pride is like a drug…you see what you’ve done and you want it again.”

It is unsurprising that in desperation to remain in the world of surrogacy she needs to be pregnant again so we with her family at a ‘social’ just two weeks after giving birth. Later she is constantly checking her phone when her mandatory 3 month wait period is up as she is eager to offer herself again, this time for Kitty and Jamie who she is ‘falling in love with’…”I want Jamie’s baby right now!”

Jemma’s involvement in surrogacy is also based on her fertility but very much as a super-power. She says she is “quite an in your face character”, telling jokes (“but it’s not my baby….they looked at me like I was on drugs!”) and at the heart of her humour is the truth: surrogacy is a transaction, even if it’s not a financial one.

“When you’re in a room full of people who potentially you could make very, very happy it makes you feel very powerful. I look at IPs [intended parents] and I think what are you going to give me? I know what I can give you. I think what are you going to give my family?”

Jemma is seeking connections with others to have fun, she does not want to be buried and bogged down in the emotion and trauma of surrogacy, she clearly seeks friendships similar to those she lost in her 20s and in exchange she will give them a baby. “In my 20s for few years I was a stripper, I would party hard …For me it was all about being with my friends…and having good time. As soon as I got pregnant…and I wasn’t going out drinking every weekend those friends slowly went away and you realise that they aren’t proper friends, trues friends at all. I was very, very lonely.,,

Surrogacy did bring out the person I was back then definitely but I never went into surrogacy thinking I would make the friends that I have I never ever, ever expected to meet these couples who I feel now would never walk away from me.”

Jemma understands that these new ‘friends’ will be prevented from leaving her because they owe her for the great favour she has done for them. When she secures a verbal agreement with Kitty, she jokes “They’re mine!”

Jemma is the only serial surrogate we see in the documentary and at 33 she has a few more years to have more babies for others, but what happens when you can’t do it anymore? After 3 of her own and the 2 she gave away could have a 6th, 7th, 8th pregnancy to keep getting her ‘high’. Her validation centres around her fertility and her baby making abilities, none of which lasts forever. For more on Jemma’s story see here.

So as a viewer, at the core of their reasons, I can see these women want to Be Kind or exert some kind of power or revel in their ability to have babies; they may be hoping to heal some emotional or mental difficulty, or seek friendships that can’t be lost, or be a part of someone else’s family so to expand their own.

Putting aside the ‘expenses’ or so-called altruistic surrogacy which the BBC presents here, there is a strong sense for me, that it remains transactional in nature and it is the baby at the centre of the exchange.