The second time I encountered the concept of surrogacy was after I was married, while Blaine and I were initially trying to conceive, ourselves. I have a cousin who, by the time she was sixteen, had not yet started her period. Her mother took her to their family doctor, who discovered this girl had been born without a uterus. Of course the first thing that comes to mind is that a permanent loss of fertility is a pretty big issue for a sixteen year old to have to deal with. My mom told me that tests had revealed my cousin had normal working ovaries, so she could produce eggs, she would just never be able to carry a pregnancy. My mom said, very matter of fact, “So both her mom and her sister have already offered to carry for her if she ever wants them to.” And I thought to myself, “Of course. I would too, if she needed me to.” It just seemed *natural* to me, to want to help someone else like that if you were able.
And the third time was when Blaine and I were in the throes of treatment. We kept trying procedure after procedure, medication after medication; it had been years of treatment so far, all to no avail. The doctors never found anything seriously wrong, but never had any success getting us pregnant, either. One night our phone rang and it was a friend of mine from high school. Her voice shook a little and she said she had something serious she wanted to talk about with me. She then went on to tell me that she and her husband had discussed it at length, and she would like to offer to be a surrogate for us if we needed it. She told me how nervous she was to make the call, and she didn’t want to pry into our business, but that she had given it great deal of thought and was willing to do that in order for us to become parents.
After I got over my shock, I discussed it with Blaine, and we agreed: her offer was overwhelming and kind-hearted and sincere. But bottom line, we didn’t NEED a surrogate. At least not yet. Surrogacy is a wonderful option for people who have run out of traditional medical treatments, and that wasn’t us. We still had treatments we could try. There was no reason we knew of that I couldn’t carry, and I wasn’t ready yet to give up on my dream of becoming pregnant myself. We were still considering adoption, if we couldn’t get pregnant. Simply put, we hadn’t reached that point in our own journey yet. But I always remembered her gesture and offer. I thought it was probably the kindest thing anyone would ever do for me.
Then we met Brayden’s birthmom and received a gift even kinder and more generous that would at last, after years of frustration and sadness, allow us to become parents.