Why I Chose to Be a Surrogate
This article originally appeared on: http://offbeathome.com/surrogacy-part-two/
After an excruciatingly long week, I finally got the faintest of faint positives on a home pregnancy test. Two days later, a digital test confirmed it with the beautiful word, “Pregnant.” We weren’t out of the woods yet of course, and the following weeks were filled with more daily hormone injections in the hopes that things would “stick” and I wouldn’t miscarry.
At 7 weeks pregnant, I had my first ultrasound and it was confirmed that I was carrying just one tiny baby with a strong beating heart. We were all a little shocked that the 27 harvested eggs had dropped to only three viable embryos, and only one of those had managed to cling on for dear life. But one is all it takes, and we were overjoyed and ecstatic.
Today, I’m almost halfway through my pregnancy. It has been totally uneventful, just like my others. In a few days, we’ll find out whether the intended parents are expecting a son or a daughter. They and their families are excited beyond words for this new life and I feel honored and blessed beyond measure that they chose me and trust me to take care of something so precious to them. It is really just the most rad, indescribable feeling.
When people find out I’m a surrogate, they are usually one of two things: either utterly confused or overtaken with a mix of morbid curiosity and fascination. Very few people really understand what it means or why I would choose to do something so intimate for a complete stranger.
I am asked the “Why?” question a lot. Sometimes, if the asker is respectful and genuinely wants to know more, I go into detail. After all, I totally love spreading the awesomeness of surrogacy whenever I can. But often people will pry and ask far too personal questions so I keep it short.
I won’t lie, the comments can be hurtful. The vast majority of women who find out I’m carrying someone else’s baby will contort their face in horror while exclaiming, “Oh, I could NEVER do that. I could never give my child up,” … as if I’m less of a mother and must lack some special maternal instinct because I CAN do it. The answer I give in my head is, “Well, neither could I. Good thing it’s not MY baby!” What I actually say is usually accompanied by a smile and something along the lines of, “I know, not many people could! That’s why surrogates are so special.”