Tag Archives: motherhood

Why more women are questioning Surrogacy

I feel increasingly uneasy about the direction in which reproductive technologies and surrogacy are taking place in society. My perspective does not come from infertility, fertility treatment, or involvement in surrogacy arrangements. It comes from a lifetime of reflecting on family, motherhood, belonging and the consequences of human vulnerability. As a daughter, granddaughter and as a mother, I carry a personal history shaped by displacement, sexual abuse and physical abuse. Those experiences have made me deeply aware of how power operates and how people facing hardship can become vulnerable to exploitation, even when exploitation is presented as opportunity or empowerment.

Discussions around surrogacy are often framed around the hopes and desires of adults who wish to have children but much less attention is given to the growing number of women who are drawn into surrogacy, but it is their bodies, their mental health that is at risk.

Because I have not walked the path of infertility I approach the subject with humility. I recognise the profound grief and soul-searching that can accompany the inability to conceive a child. Yet compassion for that suffering does not remove the need to ask serious ethical questions around the solutions being offered. For many women, concern about surrogacy is not rooted in hostility towards those who long for children. Rather, it comes from a sense that something fundamental about human relationships is being altered in ways we have not fully considered.

At the centre of every surrogacy arrangement is a pregnant woman and the child growing within her. Pregnancy begins with a unique relationship between the mother and her child. Family members relate to the unborn child, children observe their mother’s pregnancy and begin to understand that they, too, once began life in the same way. Pregnancy is the first chapter of a story of belonging.

Surrogacy introduces a different reality. The child is intentionally conceived with the expectation that they will be separated from their mother who carried them. When that separation occurs as part of a contractual arrangement, many women find themselves asking questions that are rarely discussed openly. What does this mean for the child? How will future generations understand the meaning of motherhood, kinship, and origin? What are the emotional and existential consequences when the earliest human bond becomes subject to a transaction?

These concerns are not always easily expressed because they touch on dimensions of life that modern culture often struggles to discuss: identity, attachment, meaning and the spiritual significance of human relationships.

For some women, concern extends beyond the surrogate pregnancy itself to the wider fertility industry. They question the creation of multiple embryos, the fate of embryos that are not implanted and the growing use of donor conception. They worry about a system that increasingly treats human reproduction as a process that can be organised, managed, bought and sold.

There is also unease about the commercial pressures driving this industry. While surrogacy is often presented as an act of generosity there are economic inequalities that underpin these arrangements. Wealthier individuals are able to access ‘reproductive services’ provided by women whose financial circumstances are limited. This imbalance raises questions about consent, autonomy and whether genuine freedom can exist in these conditions.

Increasingly, some women fear that society is moving towards a view of reproduction in which technology and market forces take precedence over human relationships. I am one of those women. We see the normalisation of reproductive outsourcing as part of a broader trend towards viewing the human body, fertility and even children through the lens of production – almost one of manufacturing when you consider egg harvesting and pre-implantation testing alongside capitalism and consumerism.

Whether one describes this concern in moral, philosophical or spiritual terms, the underlying question remains the same: what does it mean to be human and what responsibilities do we owe to the most vulnerable among us?

These questions are not anti-child, anti-family, or anti-compassion. They emerge precisely because of a desire to protect human dignity. As public debate continues, there is a growing need to create space for perspectives that are often overlooked. This includes the voices of surrogate-born people, donor-conceived individuals, women who regret being surrogates mothers and those who simply feel compelled to question the ethical implications of an expanding global industry.

For many women, this conversation is ultimately about more than surrogacy. It is about preserving a vision of humanity grounded in relationships rather than transactions, belonging rather than abstraction and human dignity over commodification.

If we are to move forward responsibly, we must be willing to engage in deeper reflection, not only on what is technologically possible, but on what kind of society we wish to become.

~ V.V

Behind the Screens: Dialogue from Surrogate Mothers

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So many of us live our lives online. Communities connect across long distances, and short, and we find comfort in that common ground online, particularly if what we are going through is unusual, a situation that perhaps few of those close to us can understand.

This applies to the online surrogacy world, with a statistically small but growing group of women gathering from around the world to share stories, experience and advice. But it’s not necessarily friendship that guides them. Facebook appears to be the primary place for potential parents to be ‘matched’ with candidates for surrogacy. Women may advertise their availability, detailing their age, previous pregnancies, health status and location or the commissioners can search for a woman they often describe as kind and generous, someone who will help them overcome their childlessness and be the way they start or expand their family.

Inevitably the commissioners may have spent a lot of money on IVF treatment by this point and are looking for cut-price, budget-friendly deal. The women must be fair and not charge too much for ‘expenses’ or ‘compensation’. In their search, commissioning parents will list the application criteria by age, location and BMI. If they want to use her eggs in the process as well her physical characteristics become more important. They will look for women who look like them, so the child may grow to resemble their commissioner.

Whilst these groups are dangerously close to being illegal, as currently advertising for surrogacy from either approach, is banned in the UK, but they almost pose a greater risk when you enter the echo chamber as a surrogate mother.

A recent post on X/Twitter inspired me to review all the screenshots from Facebook groups that have been shared by volunteers over the past 6 months or so. It was suggested that women in these self-help groups are healthy and largely unaffected by their involvement with surrogacy. We would argue the opposite, but, as a Facebook relationship status used to say, it’s complicated.

When surrogate mothers gather they discuss all kinds of topics within surrogacy. From the beginning there are gentle, curious enquiries which are swiftly followed by contract negotiations as they are keen to establish their worth. There is the weight of guilt from failed tests, failed embryo transfers and miscarriage, as if their bodies are not good enough, are not up to the task and may not be able to fulfil the promise they have made.

Women discuss body autonomy, on everything from vaccines and c-sections to abortion and whether they are entitled to receive medical advice, scans or updates without the commissioning parents in the room. Their privacy is compromised further when they discuss whether they can engage in sexual activity with their partners.

Being able to decide for themselves is a recurring theme as contracts can restrict their diet (commissioners can insist on a vegan or vegetarian diet) or travel. One surrogate mother tells her confidants that she has missed the passing of a loved one as she was not allowed – according to her contract – to cross state lines. While contracts are not enforceable in the UK, pressure can still be applied. Once you are pregnant as a surrogate mother, with a baby you tell yourself is not yours but in fact ‘belongs’ to someone else, all bets are off. (British commissioners often engage in surrogacy overseas through agencies and later travel to collect the child. When they return the courts will award them parental rights once some forms have been filled in.)

In this social space these women speak of being rejected by agencies due to their high BMI or issues with a previous pregnancy and will ask whether anyone there knows of a clinic who might take on an older woman, a woman on anti-depressants or one with a pre-existing condition. One woman recently asked if anyone could point her to a clinic who will take her on; with her 4 previous miscarriages and the 5 children she has kept and she is planning another surrogacy pregnancy after her 3rd surrogate born baby who is due in a few months. Group members are quick to share advice and there is an element of ‘clinic shopping’ to side-step the usual limits.

They talk about the painful IVF injections and weight gain, the impact on their emotional wellbeing and even the strain it has on their families, as they aim to help someone else grow theirs, but perhaps the most significant issue discussed is the coercive nature of their commissioners.

Women compare notes, asking if they are being unreasonable as they are encouraged to give over their bodies to surrogacy. Shockingly, the reaction is often one of victim blaming. The “put your big pants on” or “you know what you were getting yourself into” responses are frequent, all shared within a supposed sisterhood for a very special pocket of the internet, one that outsiders couldn’t possibly understand.

Every woman is at some point faced with the biological reality of pregnancy, like any other woman, from the limiting daily morning sickness to life threatening preeclampsia. These situations lead to discussions about disability and life insurance and how much are their lives worth, including to those they might leave behind. With the increase of risk of twins or triplets come higher rates of pay…some might call it danger money.

Agency list their going rates for a hysterectomy, others hide these details in contracts. If a woman who relies on her uterus to make a living, arguably this permanent removal of this reproductive organ affects her career prospects, so what is this worth in monetary value? The prices vary…

Post birth we have seen women speak about their periods getting heavier, their bodies changing beyond recognition as the pregnancy and labour was so much harder than their previous experience of childbirth. There are practical discussions about expressing colostrum and breastmilk, how best should this precious fluid might be shipped and shared.

I have myself noticed commissioning parents returning to these groups to ask women how they might obtain breastmilk for the babies they took from their mothers at birth, could these random mothers on the internet root around “at the back of the freezer” to see if any is going spare? (Breastmilk banks rigorously tested for bacteria, heated to eliminated viruses and is stored in temperature monitored freezers. )

Surrogate mothers who speak about their worries and regrets are quickly shut down and can even be ejected from the group. These women may be entering a frightening new legal experience with subsequent court cases or an abandoned baby but no one will be there to support them as the shiny seal has been broken and tarnished. This is not the type of surrogacy the groups are usually interested in, though we have seen one woman who are allowed to stick around share how her ‘journey’ ended in her losing her job and divorcing her husband.

What is perhaps the most shocking is how when women do have regrets and suffer the mother child separation (which they were told they would not experience as it is not their baby) their new friends rally round to reassure them that this is simply their hormones reacting and this is not something they should worry about. They are told to straighten their spines as if they are facing a tricky work problem or relationship situation and not the desperate loss of a baby who hasn’t died, a child they know in their bones they will never see him or her (or them) again.

The message is clear, sweep this under the carpet as it’s not real, you are not the mother, this natural maternal bond is an illusion. Surrogate mothers are not allowed to feel what is real.

Some women who have a bad experience will praise the benefits of going another round. The aim appears to be to wipe away the bad memories with a new happy ones. It was just a ‘bad match’, she was unlucky, she knew she should have listened to her instincts and she will next time. If the new relationship break downs, or her health deteriorates again, there’s always a third time lucky 🤞.

There is a sense of toxic encouragement rather than genuine interest and reviewing the post and responses reminded me of what you might have once seen on a pro-ana site. (Try Googling to find out what I’m talking about and you’ll find those sites have been shut down, for good reason.)

One small silver lining is the direct messages a woman might receive when she has been shown the door. We have also seen the messages of careful support and camaraderie, away from the main stage where only ‘baby dust’, crossed fingers and positive vibes are permitted.

Words from a Surrogate Mother – Part 4: Clara*

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My name is Clara* and I am from Argentina. I have two daughters who are studying at a university in Argentina. Since 2023, I have been fighting to regain my place in my son’s life, with the help of my solicitor. This is my story.

In 2022, a very close friend of mine, whom I will call ‘G’, whom I met in 2007 when I was studying English, called me. He works in Europe and lives with his partner. They are both very wealthy.

At the time, I had recently separated, lost a child a few years earlier, and was not feeling well. During our conversation, G asked me to become the mother of his child. He said that the three of us would form a family. I was happy to help them become parents, and to become a mother again myself. I accepted this wonderful project. He mentioned the possibility of marrying me to make it easier for them to obtain papers in France. We would be a family of three in Europe. I would live on one floor of their large house and they would live on the other; we would raise the child together.

I know it may sound strange, but it felt strange to me at first too. I won’t lie — I didn’t want to upset him. I thought to myself, ‘Well, the world is changing so much that I’m going to become a mother this way.’ They brought me to France on a tourist visa. As I was in the early stages of menopause, they arranged for in vitro fertilisation in Spain using my friend’s partner’s sperm and donor eggs. The doctor suggested a donor with dark skin, like mine. However, ‘G’ insisted on a donor with fair skin and blue eyes. I refused.

It was a high-risk pregnancy: I was 41 years old at the time and had been diagnosed with high blood pressure and hypothyroidism. During the pregnancy, I had to go to hospital four times.

From the outset of my pregnancy, I found it extremely challenging to coexist with them. They argued a lot and started behaving very coldly towards me, as if it were a job. Gradually, the idea of a happy family life together disappeared. They decided that I should live in the neighbouring town and that I would only see the baby at weekends after he was born. G took my passport, but fortunately returned it to me four months later. I no longer recognised him; he had become a completely different person.

However, I thought I had to carry on since, after all, they were the parents and I was the mother, and we were going to start a family. I told myself that I had to put up with things, which unfortunately only got worse.

The delivery was difficult and a caesarean section had to be performed. When the child was born, G presented himself to the hospital staff as my partner. They prevented me from holding my son, saying that I was tired. They told the nursing staff that I couldn’t breastfeed him because I was going back to work. That wasn’t true. They forced me to express milk. I agreed because I thought that if the baby became too dependent on me, it would cause him distress later on. There was also the €300 they sent every month for my daughters. I had no job and no connections. I didn’t speak French yet either. I had no money. They paid all my expenses, but my visa had expired, so I couldn’t go out without being very discreet. I couldn’t ask for help, and I had to keep my word.

When I dared to protest, the tension between us increased. They made me write a curriculum vitae and told me that they could no longer support me. I had not yet recovered from my caesarean section, so I asked them for a little more time as I was still finding it very difficult to walk. However, without consulting me, they organised my departure to Spain, where I knew nobody except a vague Facebook contact in Murcia. It took five car changes via BlaBlaCar and a bus journey to get there — a distance of 1,500 km. ‘G’ accompanied me to the bus in Barcelona to Murcia, then flew back immediately.

The person I stayed with helped me and put me in touch with a solicitor. By leaving my son like that, I risked being accused of child abandonment. I called ‘G’, begging him to let me return to France. I naively told him that I risked being prosecuted for child abandonment. I then learned that they had immediately filed a complaint against me for child abandonment.

While in Spain, I was put in touch with solicitors Ambroselli and Montesinos. They organised my repatriation to France and have supported me in all my efforts, including with paperwork, work and legal action to regain custody of my son.

Thanks to their efforts, I can now see my son for two hours every fortnight under social services supervision. However, for me, this is only a first step: I hope to be reunited with my son, who is now two years old, one day.

This speech was read by Clara* at FiLiA in Brighton on 11th October 2025. Clara* has used a pseudonym due to ongoing legal action.

Words from a Surrogate Mother – Part 3: Julie*

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By 2019, I had been dreaming of having a child for a long time. This desire was deep and long-standing, but I lacked the financial means to raise a child alone. It was essential to me that the future child should know their origins and never be cut off from me. As an LGBTI+ activist who cares deeply about the cause of the oppressed, I also wanted this project to align with my political beliefs. Ethical, altruistic or humanitarian surrogacy, as it is presented and ‘sold’ today, seemed to me to be the perfect solution: it would fulfil my desire for motherhood, allow a male couple to become parents, and right an injustice. At the time, I believed that the ban on surrogacy (and assisted reproductive technology) in France was unjust.

In my search for ‘intended parents’ — in other words, commissioning parents — I was contacted by people from all countries and of all sexual orientations. I systematically refused all offers of remuneration, including those from abroad and from heterosexual couples. I would never have accepted the child having any mother other than me. We envisaged ‘traditional’ and ‘artisanal’ surrogacy without the involvement of clinics, agencies or excessive costs, apart from the initial medical tests. We agreed on homemade artificial insemination, and I insisted on registering the child with the civil authorities. I refused to give birth anonymously, as I did not want my baby to have a start in life marked by abandonment. The agreement was clear: they would raise the child in their home, and I would remain close to them. The child was always to know me and consider me a member of his family. It was an underground surrogacy arrangement which, at the time, I considered to be a ‘solidarity project’ operating on the fringes of the law. There was no written contract, only a verbal agreement, a ‘contract of trust’.

The pregnancy was much more difficult than I had imagined. I went through it all alone, with no support from the couple, my family or my friends. During the last month, they began to put pressure on me by imposing their concerns and medical choices. On the day of the birth, I realised that, in their eyes, I had never had any human dignity or maternal role. I was nothing more than a body responsible for ‘delivering’ the baby. They wanted to watch the birth from the front, despite the fact that I had no intimate relationship with any of them. The biological father preferred a caesarean section to the use of a vacuum extractor. Fortunately, the obstetrician did not listen to him. He insisted that the baby be placed in the nursery for the first night and that my stay in the maternity ward be shortened, despite my repeated objections. In the delivery room, a paediatric nurse, unaware of our surrogacy plans, said, “Don’t try to separate the mother and child.” She understood better than I did what was at stake. My stay was so difficult that the staff thought I was a battered woman. They sent me a psychologist and promised me postnatal care, but ultimately, nothing was done.

I had given my word, and when I left the maternity ward, I entrusted my baby to them. I couldn’t afford to raise him, and I believed that they would keep their promise just as I had kept mine. I never asked for any money; in fact, I gave them the social security benefits I received so that the child would have everything he needed.

Very quickly, however, the initial promises evaporated. They organised a birth party without telling or inviting me. To their relatives, they maintained the pretence that they had conceived the baby alone. The regular visits they had promised me during the first year became rare and sporadic. News and photos were slow in coming. Then, in 2022, I discovered that they were planning to move to the other side of France. Whenever the local social services intervened, they moved again. The stability that I had hoped the child would have – and which had motivated my choice of them – was not forthcoming. They also hid information about the child’s health from me. I learned from a doctor that my son had been diagnosed with autism six months earlier and that they had portrayed me as absent and unstable.

Finally, they settled in the Gard region, where social services stopped investigating. Three months later, the biological father died of aggressive cancer at the age of 37. Legally, I remained the sole holder of parental authority and was entitled to regain custody of my son, as the second commissioning couple had no biological or legal connection to him. I had resisted the pressure they had put on me to give up my rights or agree to adoption.

Naively, and in the interests of the child, I suggested to the stepfather that we arrange shared custody. However, he told me that he wanted to return to the Paris region, so I moved back there and rented a one-bedroom flat for my son. Meanwhile, he was initiating several legal proceedings against me, including temporary and long-term placement, total and exclusive transfer of my parental rights and custody, and even child maintenance. The judges granted all his requests.

The second commissioning person, who is legally nothing to my son, refused to return the family record book to me, with the approval of the magistrates. The public prosecutor in Nîmes described me as nothing more than a ‘procreator’. Social services were extremely accommodating, refusing to treat me as a parent for a year and explaining that they were there to ‘support the gentleman in his parenting’. The Departmental Child Welfare Services (ASE) even asked the Children’s Judge to remove my visiting and accommodation rights, which were already extremely limited, and this was ordered. Whenever this man prevented a meeting, phone call or video call between me and my son, social services covered for him.

To top it all off, the stepfather remarried another man, becoming my son’s ‘second stepfather’. This man obtained parental rights. Now, social services and magistrates are asking me to recognise this second stepfather as my child’s ‘father’. Both my son’s genetic father and my own family have been removed from his life.

Although the judge ordered visitation rights, I was unable to see my child from 31 July 2023 to 11 May 2024 – almost ten months in total. I received no updates and was reprimanded when I dared to ask for any. Social services cited being overloaded or the fact that I no longer had parental rights. Even the juvenile court judge acknowledged off the record that this should not have happened.

A complaint for incitement to child abandonment was filed against them in the Alpes de Haute Provence. All parties recognised the surrogacy, including social services and the surviving stepfather. In court, he openly admitted to this illegal surrogacy, knowing that he would not be punished, but rather that it would allow him to obtain exclusive rights and full custody of the child. The penalty in France is derisory: a €7,500 fine. If the sponsors knew this, none of them would pay for surrogacy abroad. Women’s bodies are being sold in France. Despite the evidence and confessions, the public prosecutor in Digne-les-Bains dismissed the child abandonment complaint. No judge wanted to investigate or simply apply the law. I appealed to the Attorney General in Aix-en-Provence, but he dismissed the case too.

I have now been fighting social services and judges for two years, and I am due to appear in court again on 9 October. I am fighting to be recognised as a mother and for my son to recognise me and be reunited with his maternal family. After eight months with no visiting rights, followed by supervised and semi-supervised visits where we had to ‘meet’ like strangers under the watchful eye of social services, I finally regained my visiting and accommodation rights. However, I still haven’t regained my parental rights or any prospect of custody. Social services keep telling me that their role is to ensure that the child has his father, as if the father were the child in need of protection.

For each visit and hearing, I travel 1,500 km. It requires a huge time, energy and financial commitment. Currently, I have custody of my son for half of the school holidays at my home and one and a half days per month during the school year, but I have to spend these periods in the Gard region. Needless to say, the stepfather has never moved to be closer, which makes shared custody impossible.

I had hoped this story would be one of friendship, solidarity and justice. Instead, it has become a tragedy; the biggest mistake and source of shame in my life. The state has stolen my son, as well as my dignity as a woman and a mother. Even today, I am not recognised as a parent. At school, at the doctor’s, with insurance companies or solicitors, I am nobody. I am fighting so that one day my son will truly be part of his maternal family, and so that he can forgive me — perhaps even love me. I am fighting so that no other woman will be treated as I was, and so that no other child will be torn away from their mother and maternal family. No one should have to go through what I am going through.

This speech was read by Julie* at FiLiA in Brighton on 11th October 2025. Julie* has used a pseudonym due to ongoing legal action.

Words from a Surrogate Mother – Part 2: Christian

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Thank you for having me here to speak and share my story. I was first matched with a couple who were referred to as ‘VIP’ Intended Parents by a surrogacy agency I had approached.

My children are my world and I cannot imagine a life without them. I had love in my heart and truly wanted to help. I believed I was going to help them complete their family but I was lied to and betrayed in the worst way possible.

I was told that they already had a child, but as they lived in a country where there was a one child policy it was not possible for them to achieve their dream of having a bigger family. As it took time for them to settle in America the commissioning mother grew older and was then unable to become pregnant. Even this was a lie as she was pregnant by the time I conceived. I was told of their plans to have another surrogate mother so we could be ‘sister surrogates’. Like one big happy family on a fun ‘journey’ together but I had no idea how deceived I would be.

I signed a contract with a well known agency, agreeing to have an egg donor surrogacy pregnancy. I was not informed about the risks nor was it explained to me that the child was in fact not ‘intended’ for this couple but for a wealthy businessman in England, where I later travelled to for the court case.

Agencies are supposed to carry out background checks. If background checks were done at all they failed to keep me and the future child safe. It was not him I was having a baby for. I still feel violated as a woman being made to carry a child for an unknown male through deception. The ‘intended parents’ were frauds, bad actors…employed by this stranger who invaded my body. He was a father with several children, divorced from his wife after his affair and he lived in another country where there was no one child policy. I would never have agreed to this had I known the truth.

I was motivated to help others but I was also hoping to earn money to help pay legal fees as my husband was in a custody battle for his children. The ‘compensation’ from the surrogacy was going to go towards the legal bills. It felt like a mutually beneficial agreement where I was helping them complete their family and they would help me keep mine together.

It was much later that I discovered that I have something called Toxic Empathy which is where I will help others to my own detriment. When it came to the money, I gave it all away. I could not keep a dollar of it. It was dirty and having it in my pocket, in my bank account, sickened me.

Physically, I experienced sub chronic haemorrhaging due to the shots and had to receive weekly blood transfusions for two months before giving birth.

I was induced at the end because of preeclampsia. The baby and I were in distress, so they performed an emergency C-section. I believe it took a toll on both of us. Preeclampsia is a frequent complication with IVF surrogacy pregnancies and leads to an immediate C-section to save the mother.

I was vulnerable and no one stood up for me and in the end I wasn’t able to fight any more than I did. I didn’t give my consent to the adoption – it became an adoption as conditions for it to be a parental order in surrogacy were breached – but still my parental rights were removed. I wrote to the judge begging to have the child with us, to be raised in my family. I was reprimanded by my UK lawyer for this, like a naughty girl who won’t behave.

The court case was complicated, I had legal teams in the USA and the UK but neither of them represented my wishes or fought for my parental rights. I was not treated as a human being and it was deeply inconvenient for them and the court system that I had a mind of my own and wanted to keep the baby.

My UK lawyers even tried to persuade me to give up my parental rights and upon my return to the USA my lawyers suggested I do it all over again! I was shocked that they could even say this out loud but I suspect they were trying to secure a new contract with an NDA clause to prevent me from speaking. But here I am today. Speaking to you all.

I was told I had to enter mediation and I met the genetic father. He showered my family with extravagant gifts, designer scarves, a brand new iphone for my husband and ipads for my children. He had reconciled with his ex- wife and she was pregnant.

In the court I was treated like a suspect for a crime. I don’t believe that my representatives or the court system operated in my best interests or in the best interest of the child at all. I don’t even know if the child knows he was born through surrogacy.

He was referred to as a ‘project’ by the genetic father, like it was all a social experiment to see if it could be done, if the deception would be successful, if he could get away with it. I had to leave the UK earlier than planned as I had to get away.

A mother bonds with the baby in utero and surrogacy teaches each of us to deny that natural bond. Surrogacy disrespects women with the dehumanising language and the monetisation of their bodies. Even in the contract stage, before the ink was dry, I was asked by the fraudulent ‘intended’ parents if I would do this again like a baby making robot. I was not seen as a human being.

Surrogacy is ugly, the surrogate mothers have good intentions and people take advantage. I did my research and joined a well established agency that pride themselves as a “ gold standard agency who deliver a premium service”.

The service is pregnancy, the child is the product. But the child I gave birth to is 6 years old now and he is a person, not a project.

Children born through surrogacy arrangements are innocent of all this. They do not ask for it and they have no voice to ask to stay with their mothers. I do not have contact with the child and as he doesn’t have my DNA, as a secret inside of him, even a DNA test wouldn’t reveal his true origins. He can find his genetic mother, if he is lucky, but he cannot find me, his birth mother.

I don’t even know if he has been told he was born by surrogacy. The ex-wife of the genetic father may pretend that she is his mother.

Science has no place in the family and I deeply regret agreeing to use my body in this way. I was once a strong supporter of surrogacy, as an empowering act women do to support and help others. I am now empowered by this movement, to ban surrogacy everywhere.

This speech was read by Christian at FiLiA in Brighton on 11th October 2025.

Words from a Surrogate Mother – Part 1: Marie Anne

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My name is Marie-Anne Isabelle and the surrogacy experience that I endured here in this country nearly killed me. My mission now is to ensure that nobody goes through what I did. I have made it my cause to expose this barbaric practice for what it is and to enact change. I am not looking for glory or sympathy I just want change.

People hear about how wonderful surrogacy is, how it’s a beautiful gift and a positive experience. Then, you hear about the “terrible” surrogate who dares to ask for her child back. It’s an all-too-common depiction in our modern fairy tale world.

I believed that fairy tale when I agreed to help a family member by carrying her child. At the time, I was happy to help because I loved her and did not want or need to be paid. However, I made it clear that the child would be conceived using her egg and that I must be allowed to see and have contact with the child I would give birth to. That was the condition I would only do this under, if I could have regular contact with the child, as I could not live without seeing a child I would give birth to.

I agreed to become a surrogate mother for my cousin. She was more like a sister to me. She had been a significant presence in my life. We were a vital part of each other’s lives. I knew about her cancer. In 2009 she told me that she had created embryos and that she was researching surrogacy.

One day, she came to my house with her sister, who is also my cousin and asked if I could help her. I told her that I would only help if she let me see the child. She looked me in the eye and said, “Absolutely. There’s trust.” We’re family, you know? Not for a minute did I think I’d actually need to get a lawyer and write a contract.

I think when she asked me, she knew I had no choice but to say yes. I think she exploited our relationship. As further information came out afterwards, it appeared that they couldn’t go ahead with a surrogacy abroad as it was deemed too expensive, so they were looking for a cheaper alternative. They kind of saw me as “Oh, she’ll do it for free.” A free and cheap option.

I was told there is trust. “You will be the child’s godmother.” Those words would later come back to haunt me. I don’t believe she knows what trust means. She made all sorts of promises to brainwash and coerce me into helping her.

It was a gestational surrogacy. They used IVF with their own biological material. I remember lots of injections and visits to the clinic for very obtrusive physical examinations. It was a very procedural process, and it was quite challenging, both emotionally and physically, to go through. I’d had two normal, non-assisted pregnancies of my own and this pregnancy was nothing like those. This overmedication was purely to help these two people.

The experience was bad enough. Having somebody else try to dictate what medical procedures you should endure, how you should give birth, and what you should eat was awful. The list goes on. This affected me from the beginning of my pregnancy, yet there is still no specialized support for women going through surrogate pregnancies here in the UK.

In 2014, at the time of delivery, I made it clear that the commissioning father wouldn’t be present; it would just be her, me, and my partner. Everything went smoothly, and I felt in control. The hospital saw me as the mother. So, my wishes were taken into account; in how I wanted to do things. However, they wanted me to have an elective C-section. I refused, and my midwife backed me up by stating that C sections were not good practice. If someone doesn’t need one, they shouldn’t have one. They tried to force me and put pressure on me, saying, “Oh, it’d be better for you.”

I remember there being some confusion at the hospital. Even though the hospital had been told that it was a surrogacy, social services became involved. I thought, “This is awful. I’m trying to have a baby, and now I’ve got suspicious social services interviewing me.

The father came in after the birth because he wanted to have skin to skin contact. They had the baby. They were happy. They didn’t need me anymore so they told me to go home. However, the hospital staff did not agree. They wanted to see me walk out with the baby, carrying it according to their policy. I remember having to carry the car seat with the baby in it through the hospital in full view of the medical staff. Then, we had to do this strange exchange where I handed over the child in the hospital car park because, legally, the hospital was no longer responsible for the child once it was outside.

After the birth, I was presented with all sorts of legal documents that I was forced to sign. The timing was awful, too, right when I was trying to recover from the birth. Imagine training your body and mind for nine months to believe that you are not the mother of the child you are giving birth to. Every surrogate woman has to do that. Then, after doing that, you are presented with a document stating that you are the mother, and you are forced to sign it. I was also threatened with financial and legal consequences if I didn’t sign it. This is the dark side of surrogacy in the UK that nobody hears about because most women are given gag orders to prevent them from talking about it.

No payment was made. I was only compensated for time off work. I remember them buying me maternity clothes and reimbursing me for transportation to the clinic. They wanted to pay for food, but I politely declined. I didn’t want to feel controlled by having someone tell me what to eat. I remember my dear cousin saying, “We’d like to pay for a kitchen for you,” and I said, “No, this is me helping you I am not doing this to get anything back in return. For me to receive gifts would feel like I was being paid for a service.” I said no.

The court case started in 2014 and lasted two years. I didn’t start the court case. It was initiated by the commissioning parents because they wanted a parental order. A parental order legally transfers parental responsibility from the surrogate to the intended parents and ends the surrogate’s rights.

I had no idea about any of this. I didn’t even know there was going to be a court case. I just thought I would hand the child over and be done with it. None of this was made clear to me beforehand. Nobody told me. I gave birth, and suddenly, all of this legal process was forced upon me. I refused to sign because they reneged on their promise of allowing me contact and everything went downhill from there.

They attempted to obtain my consent against my will at the court, exploiting my mental health, which was irreparably damaged as a result of my experience. They tried to prove that I was incapable of giving consent. However, through grit and determination—including psychiatric assessments proving I was capable of giving consent—I was permitted to remain involved in the court case and my consent was needed much to their dismay. Still, they continually tried to shut me out. Children’s Services even tried to use the case of a deceased surrogate mother. They said, “We can just use that case where someone died and pretend that’s happened here.” It was just appalling. It was made clear to me that the only way I had the best chance of having any contact was to agree to the parental order so in the end, I signed it to try and have contact with the child I gave birth to as I was promised. I have never seen the child to this day.

She was born in 2014. I haven’t seen her since I gave birth to her.

I was promised on multiple occasions during the court case that I would see her, but each time, the appointment was cancelled the day before. They were playing games with me. I believe the promises were only for the benefit of the court.

They hinted that they used me as a cheap commercial surrogate and if it hadn’t been for their legal costs they would have been granted their wish. They constantly tried to remove any trace of me from their child’s life, which is another reason why they needed my silence. I believe their behaviour stems from their resentment of me as the child’s birth mother, and that is me being generous.

I have been diagnosed with complex PTSD and underwent EMDR to alleviate some of the trauma resulting from the surrogacy. I have a deep fear of hospitals, children, and babies, which does not work well with my career in education. The damage done to me will never be repaired. Constant panic attacks and a fear and distrust of people serve as constant reminders. There are many days that I still wish I wasn’t here just to be rid of this painful world that did this to me.

The impact was not only on me, but also on my children. They took on the role of parents because I wasn’t able to take care of them. This happened ten years ago, and for the first five years, my children didn’t have a mother. They were taken away from me and sent to live with their father, which was traumatic for everyone. Then, the judge, when presented with evidence, came to the conclusion that this was not helpful to anyone and returned them to my care. Over the last five years, we have come together as a family and rebuilt our relationships, but for the first five years, we were a broken family.

In trying to help another family, they broke mine.

When did a women’s right to have a child mean that it would take away another woman’s right to have contact with a child she gave birth to? We talk about women’s rights as if they are universal but surrogacy actually means you are choosing which woman deserves more rights. That is inequality.

If leaders and law makers care so much about women’s rights why are they continuing to erode the rights of surrogate mothers?

Change needs to happen fast. Surrogacy in any form is wrong, not safe and harmful. It needs to be banned before any more women die as they already have. Listen to our voices and do not let us be silenced any more.

This speech was read by Marie Anne at FiLiA in Brighton on 11th October 2025.

Surrogacy: A risky Business

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As a new study from Dr Velez was just published, I review this and revisit the study from 2024. In doing so I quote both studies verbatim, despite the dehumanising language.

2024 Study

Published in September 2024, “Severe Maternal and Neonatal Morbidity Among Gestational Carriers: A Cohort Study” looked at over 863,000 births in Ontario, Canada over a nine year period (1st April 2012 to 31st March 2021).

The study concluded that surrogacy pregnancies are 3 times the increased risk, with severe postpartum hemorrhage, severe pre-eclampsia, and postpartum sepsis given as the medical risks. This is an alarming statistic but one we have seen from previous studies and it is important to understand the approach.

Firstly, Dr Velez (et al) created a baseline by making certain deliberate omissions.

405,876 pregnancies were excluded because of history of cancer, miscarriage or abortion as well as invalid insurance, high risk diagnosis and the application of Intrauterine insemination (IUI) for conception.
130 twin pregnancies for surrogate mothers were excluded. This amounts to 16% of the total sample of surrogacy pregnancies (806) but only 2.3% in the unassisted conceived pregnancies. It is worth noting that had multifetal (twins or triplets, etc) pregnancies been taken into account, the risk would have been even higher. Twins are common in surrogacy as multiple embryos are implanted, “surrogate pregnancies more likely to result in twin pregnancies: 33% vs. 1%.” ( Woo et al, 2017)
Home births were excluded and these make up around 1% of pregnancies in Ontario – Data was gathered Better Outcomes Registry & Network (BORN) Ontario database which holds 99% of all birth records.

Secondly, following the omissions, 3 comparison groups were created. A group with Unassisted (natural) Conception, IVF conception and ‘Gestational Carriage’ or surrogacy.

The group of surrogate mothers were not categorised further into ‘gestational’ (IVF) and ‘traditional’ (conceiving with the surrogate mother’s own eggs) and was small within this study – at only 806 of the overall group (0.09%) – but it remains the largest study of surrogate mothers in the last decade and it draws out several interesting observations.

A significant number of women (290) who undertook surrogacy pregnancies had a high BMI as the study measured that 36% of surrogate mothers were obese.

“Before weighting, gestational carriers were more likely to be parous, reside in a lower-income area, and have higher rates of obesity and chronic hypertension.”

Dr Velez weighted the obesity in surrogate mothers against obesity in women who were became pregnant naturally, but did not explore why surrogate mothers are almost twice as likely to be obese, though she notes that surrogate mothers are more likely to have already given birth and live in poorer areas. The surrogate mother group also had high blood pressure which can be linked to several underlying health conditions and can be a sign of stress.

Nearly 10% (8.9%) of “gestational carriers” were first time surrogate mothers. This is disturbing for two reasons. Firstly it means that of the 806 births for surrogacy, nearly 90% of women had done this before. This could be for a ‘sibling journey’ or for multiple different commissioning parents. These women were likely to be undertaking the increased risk of a surrogacy pregnancy when they have children at home to care for. Secondly, we do not know if the women who became surrogate mothers for the first time already had the experience of labour and childbirth so we cannot know if they gave informed consent.

In maternal morbidity, across the 3 groups, the study assessed the risks to be 2.3% for unassisted pregnancy, 4.3% for IVF pregnancy, and 7.8% for surrogacy. This means that surrogacy is nearly double the risk of Severe Maternal Morbidity (SMM) than that of IVF.

A different study involving in-depth interviews of 96 surrogate mothers in the USA published in 2022 found complications or adverse effects including:

“high blood pressure during pregnancy, preeclampsia or eclampsia, gestational diabetes, hemorrhage, infection related to pregnancy, pre-term labor, hyperemesis gravidarum, anemia, ectopic pregnancy, placenta previa, placental abruption, ovarian cysts, miscarriage, postpartum depression, and high blood pressure in the postpartum period. Not all surrogate pregnancies resulted in complications or adverse effects. The most complications that one woman faced during her surrogate pregnancy, that she did not experience during her non-surrogate pregnancy or pregnancies, was seven.”

A meta analysis of similar studies over the last decade (with smaller cohorts and different methodologies) shows that the medical risks in surrogacy pregnancies are 3 times the risk, so this supports the findings of the 2024 study.

2025 Study

The latest study coming out of Canada looked specifically at maternal mental health. “New-Onset Mental Illness Among Gestational Carriers” published in the Journal of the American Medical Associated, an established and well regarded peer review journal, uses the same data from the 2024 cohort and Dr Velez concludes that “gestational carriers were more likely to be diagnosed with mental illness during and after pregnancy.”

The number of pregnancies assessed initially drops from 863,017 in the 2024 study to 767,406 in the 2025 study. The additional omission is key. Women with a history of mental illness were omitted. Within these numbers, 758 eligible pregnancies were for surrogacy purposes. 178 women were surrogate mothers with a previous mental health condition and these women were initially excluded from the study but not from surrogacy. It’s important to understand that across Canada, a psychological screening of both the surrogate mother and the commissioning parents is required prior to conception. This is not a legal requirement but is considered mandatory according to the study.

(The UK model for so-called ‘altruistic’ surrogacy is broadly followed in Canada. Agencies here require a psychological assessment but suicidal thoughts or depression will not exclude women from undergoing a surrogacy pregnancy, or even several surrogacy pregnancies arranged through an established agency. ‘Independant Journeys’ – agreements made outside of the agency framework – are permitted.)

The study suggests “that gestational carriers were more likely to be diagnosed with mental illness during and after pregnancy” as it measured that a “new-onset mental illness occurred in 236 ‘gestational carriers’.”

Remember the 2022 study of 96 surrogate mothers? This found that surrogate mothers were “significantly more likely to experience postpartum depression following the delivery of surrogate born children than their non-surrogate born children.” Given the omissions and that if you experience post natal depression you are likely to experience it again in any future pregnancies, we are glad that some further analysis was done.

Dr Velez reintroduced the group of 178 surrogate mothers (19%) with a prior mental health condition..

“In the current study, 19.0% of gestational carriers had a documented diagnosis of mental illness before pregnancy. Among these, 10.7% had a prior history of mental illness diagnosed through an emergency department encounter or a hospitalization, which might have precluded them from being an eligible gestational carrier.”

But it didn’t preclude them. Importantly, a prior known mental health condition involving either an emergency assessment or a stay in hospital did not prevent 19 women proceeding under the psychological assessment and becoming pregnant for others.

So if you didn’t have a mental health condition, a surrogacy pregnancy could mean you go on to develop one and if you did have a mental health issue before, you could still be cleared for surrogacy, despite the regulation in place which applies the ‘altruistic’ only model.

The 2025 study appeared in The Guardian newspaper two days ago, quoting Dr Velez who said:

“Our findings underscore the importance of adequate screening and counselling of potential gestational carriers before pregnancy about the possibility of a new-onset mental illness, or exacerbation of a prior mental illness during or after pregnancy.”

But with medical risks measured at 3 times the risk and the increased likelihood of a new mental health issue occurring during or after a surrogacy pregnancy (43% compared to 29% in pregnancy not for surrogacy), is this not the time to consider the dangers for women and ban surrogacy, instead of calling for ‘adequate screening’?

Surrogacy can never be ‘safe’ nor can it ever be ethical. It involves taking a newborn from their mother at birth. The study also found that:

“The findings of additional analysis suggest that some gestational carriers may experience grief from relinquishing the newborn, such as that described after adoptionor removal of the child into foster care—something that needs detailed study.”

I welcome further research in surrogacy but don’t we already know enough to say, let’s just not do this anymore? We could just not put women through the physical and mental health risks to make other adults happy.

Buying Babies from Abroad

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Last month several cases in the high court came to light and we explore them here as each presents different areas of concern with international surrogacy – faceless mothers, simultaneous surrogacy and human trafficking.

Invisible Woman – a surrogate mother is faceless and nameless

A UK couple, with connections to Nigeria went there to obtain a baby. The baby was conceived with the egg of the surrogate mother and the sperm of the commissioning father but the couple never met the woman who they impregnated. Arrangements were made between their chosen clinic and agency and she remained anonymous throughout the process as this was their preference. Her face was covered during scans and appointments which were conducted remotely and only her initials were recorded in the paperwork.

When the baby was brought into the UK and a parental order was process though the court the commissioning couple’s intentions were laid bare.

“At that point we are satisfied that opting for an anonymous surrogacy will be our best option since we will not meet the surrogate mother and she will not know us. We thought this will remove all the problems people face when they do surrogacy and the stigma that surrounds it. We want safety, protection, security, and peace of mind. We didn’t want unnecessary involvement and attachment; we just want to sign the contract without owing anybody obligation. We understand someone to do this is really giving us something special we don’t want to carry this for the rest of our lives identifying the person will make us think we owe them gratitude for the rest of our life.”

This couple deliberately sought out a woman in Nigeria so they would not be required to build or maintain an ongoing relationship with the mother of their child. The burden of gratitude was too much for them and they do not know her name or what she looks like and neither will her child. The baby girl will also not know her maternal family or any other siblings she may have.

Every day we see, in private chats and on public groups, agents and brokers in Nigeria seeking women to donate their eggs and to rent their wombs. We consistently see posts from women who are clearly desperate for money and this makes them vulnerable to exploitation. Nigeria remains on the list of countries where you cannot adopt from if based in the UK, the basis for this is the risk and concerns over exploitation but this does not apply to surrogacy.

Consent was dispensed with. The full judgment is here.

Two for one – not the first case of simultaneous surrogacy for a UK couple

A UK same sex couple in their 60s and 70s paid £120,000 for two babies born to two different Ukrainian women in Northern Cyprus, though they believed the clinic to operate out of Southern Cyprus. The children were conceived from from the same woman’s eggs and the same man’s sperm so were related to each other but were not related to either of the two women, so the Parental Order was denied. Consent from the Ukrainian mothers was dispensed with. The judge for this case, Sir Andrew McFarlane, president of the family division of the High Court said:

“as nobody knew anything more than the first names of the two surrogate mothers. In addition, the clinic had been doggedly resistant to giving any information. The surrogates had been resident at the clinic four years earlier but had almost certainly returned to Ukraine after giving birth. I was fully satisfied that they could not be found and I, therefore, dispensed with consent on that ground.“

The adoption of these children took 4 years and in the ruling the judge noted the women were “exploited for commercial gain’.

Consent was dispensed with. The full judgment is here.

Global baby – multiple international locations

This case involved a single man who paid a surrogacy agency in Israel and a fertility clinic in Northern Cyprus to implant an embryos into the womb of a surrogate mother who came from Kyrgyzstan. The mother travelled to Northern Cyprus for an embryo transfer, before returning home and later gave birth in Moldova.

The full judgement is here.

The man paid Fullsuccess Medical Consulting almost £26,000 and he told the court that he believed the surrogate mother was paid £12,250. In the granting of the Parental Order, Mrs Justice Theis DBE said “what took place in this surrogacy arrangement, with the seemingly reckless disregard of the cross-jurisdiction implications of the arrangement,overseen by two essentially commercial organisations, causes the court enormous concern”.

The UK surrogacy model is meant to be altruistic and based on ‘friendship first’ but Parental Orders for international surrogacy arrangements continue to be granted by the UK courts and they appear to be on the rise.

A 2022 study shows how UK residents prefer the commercial mode as it secures parental rights and control over the surrogate mother (see our analysis) . Women are being exploited for their reproductive capability and there are no friendships being formed prior to pregancy and no ongoing relationships once the child is born. There is no basis for the child to know where they come from, they may not even be told they are born from an arranged pregnancy. Courts can dispense with ‘free, fully informed and unconditional consent’ and the mother simply disappears, returning to her home country in a puff of smoke.

These are far from the only recent cases, this month two teachers from London obtained twins from a Kazakhstani woman who gave birth in Northern Cyprus, this has resulted (at the time of writing) in an ongoing police investigation.

The Law Commission of England and Wales and the Scottish Law Commission argue that the Parental Order system that transfers parental rights should continue and work alongside the ‘new pathway’, under their reform proposals. This would continue to allow arrangements like the ones we share here, to continue.

If you have concerns over the proposals, you can write to your MP using the government website. If you need any support with this, please email us on stopsurrogacynowuk@gmail.com.

Open letter to the surrogate mothers – Guest Post from Anonymous

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Dear fellow surrogate mothers,

The baby you have in your womb is yours. Any woman that has a baby in her womb is a mother, she is the mother of her baby. It’s a law of nature and no one can change it.

Don’t give them this baby, don’t give them your baby.

This baby is yours, you feed it with your body. This baby feels what you feel, shares your food, calcium from your bones, your hormones. This baby is afraid when you are afraid, feels your laughter inside. They are happy when you are happy.

Don’t think this baby in your body is theirs because they have spent so much money. That you are just an ‘extreme babysitter’ and you are just ‘borrowing’ this baby and will be ‘giving the baby back’ at birth. No money can ever be a ‘compensation’ for the very existence of a human being. Money shouldn’t turn a pregnancy into a service, no amount of money can ‘reimburse’ you for what you are doing.

Don’t think this baby is theirs because you are ‘gestational’ surrogate and not genetically related to him or her. Because this baby knows only you, needs you, wants you and loves only you. Because a fœtus knows nothing of genetics and does not care if they were conceived in a lab. He or she doesn’t care about IVF, clinics, money deals and all the discussions and paperwork between the adults and agencies that commissioned them. This baby is growing inside you and wants to continue growing with you, to be raised by you.

You are doing the most wonderful thing ever, you are creating a human being and you are going to give birth to a new life. They have no right to claim rights to your baby for the mere reason they have paid. Nobody can buy a human being, unless of course this human is a slave for trade and you are also a slave through surrogacy. This is the reality many do not want to face.

The fœtus inside you is your little precious life, and for the moment it is only you. The only person in the world that this baby will know is you; your odour, your diet, the sound of your voice, the movement of your body, your touch, your affection. You are the most important person, the only person this baby wants in their life, the only one able to fulfill their needs.

When this little life comes into the world, it will know only you. It will look for your touch, your breast, your taste, your face, your protection. Skin-to-skin contact with you will bring him or her serenity, joy and tenderness. Don’t be cruel enough to refuse this.

Don’t think you’ll receive love, gratitude and respect for what you’re doing. You’ll just receive incomprehension and contempt from institutions: no one will understand that you could have abandoned your child – whether you were a traditional or a gestational surrogate mother – because abandoning your child at birth is not forgiven. Because getting pregnant, carrying and bringing a child into the world, only to abandon it at birth – voluntarily and on purpose – is unforgivable.

Leaving your baby, giving it away is the worst trauma you can inflict on a fragile, new and precious life. The trauma of abandonment, being handed over to strangers will cause loss, confusion, feeling of emptiness and anxiety. The separation from you will create disruption, the deepest wound anyone can ever experience.

I wish I had never given my baby to them. I pray my son can ever forgive me for having abandoned him to his pretend (not ‘intended’) parents. It is a mistake I will forever regret.

Surrogacy – a new job opportunity?

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Pro surrogacy lobbyists will say that surrogacy isn’t a job but when it is compared to forms of labour it is always to the riskier jobs. Comparisons are made to say, being a firefighter or police officer, but comparisons are never made to other service providers such as being a dentist or a cleaner. We know those roles are low-risk, so it’s subtle but we recognise there is an inherent risk in engaging in pregnancy for others.

With risky employment comes training, health and safety equipment and sometimes a significant risk allowance. If surrogacy was to be thought of as a job then there would be some health and safety guidelines, checks and an uptick in salary. And being pregnant is 24/7 with no breaks and jobs with long hours, like truck divers, rest breaks are scheduled for health and safety. Also, the riskiest jobs in the world have an element of knowingly putting yourself in harm’s way and this becomes part of the deal, and perhaps part of the draw.

With limited research in this area we rely mostly on anecdotal evidence and we have observed some common trends. Surrogate mothers will often have former careers in childcare, teaching, midwifery or nursing, and it seems to be fairly common for surrogate mothers to go on to become deeply involved in surrogacy ‘community’ and subsequently switch careers.

A small 2022 study * from a pro-surrogacy Academic, Dr Kirsty Horsey confirms that most surrogacy ‘teams’ meet through an agency as strangers and though only 47 surrogate mothers completed the survey their careers included midwifery, teaching and nursing:

“Regarding occupation, 12 surrogates identified as being in nursing, midwifery, or health care, seven were in teaching or childcare professions, and 11 in business administration, management, or accounts. Three were solicitors. Other roles included civil servant, police staff, a registrar, a hotelier, a retail role, two students, and two ‘stay-at-home moms’.”

The survey summarises that “Most responses (85%) indicated household incomes below £70,000. Four surrogates said their household incomes were above £80,000.” But it’s worth pointing out that 44 respondents answered that question and a quarter (25%) said they were on a joint income of less than £29k and another 30% said there were on a joint income of between £29k-40k. So that’s over half (55%) who are on significantly less than 70k. The footnotes for this suggests is was badly worded.

And there is a disclaimer: “Given the different professions identified, it is unclear if all respondents gave an answer reflecting personal or household incomes, suggesting that both should have been asked for in the survey. Because of this, it is unclear what weight can be given to these answers.” (Footnote 31.)

These trends bear out in real life further, these example shows that surrogate-mother-to-agency-employee pipeline is real. Take Gina Kinson for example. Having worked in nursing, Gina, a two-time surrogate mother, later became a Co-ordinator for My Surrogacy Journey. Or Sarah Jones, now CEO of Surrogacy UK, Sarah is an Early Years Educator and has had 5 babies for others. Another is Dawn Allen, a surrogate applications and agreement Co-ordinator for Surrogacy UK. Initially inspired to have babies for others after watching a documentary, Dawn came out of ‘retirement’ to have a baby for a couple at the age of 49 whilst working at Surrogacy UK.

So it appears common that a surrogate mother’s career will centre, at least for some, around care-giving and providing a service and having had a baby for others can result in becoming more deeply involved in the industry.

If surrogacy is a vocation where you provide a service in exchange for money, it’s a regular job like any other and one you can retire from. It’s not just ‘favour’ you do for a friend or family member, not least because women are having babies for strangers they are matched with. Surrogacy is no longer what we thought it was when it began back in the 80s. (You may have seen #changingthelandscape used on pro-surrogacy posts and they are not wrong, the landscape has indeed changed.)

In risky jobs we assess and name the risks using clear language in the job description so applicants know what the role entails. (Prostitution isn’t a job, but we have seen it be more commonly referred to as ‘sex work’, as a way to normalise and rationalise the act of using a woman’s body for paid rape as job she chooses to do or a ‘vocation’.) Now there are subtle shifts in language in surrogacy too. Agencies now refer to ‘compensation’ rather than the legal term of ‘reasonable expenses’.

Pregnancy and labour is unpredictable and carries risk. We don’t currently consider surrogacy as a form of employment in the UK, as ‘contracts’ are not enforceable (though that’s a whole different blog), but monetising women’s bodies is a slippery slope.

If you have concerns about surrogacy becoming more widespread, the impact on women and children and what proposed reform in the UK would lead us, please get in contact.

** With 47 respondents to this 2022 survey, this could be roughly just 10% of parental orders as 449 Parental Orders were granted in 2022.