Issue 02: The fundamental problem with England

Saturday June 16 2018

As if the decision to enter into a surrogacy relationship (I don’t like “agreement”, it’s too clinical) wasn’t knotty enough, we need to decide on the where. After our painful experience attempting IVF there, I’ve absolutely ruled out Russia (sorry, Grandfather). The whole fertility industry over there seems about as regulated as Facebook. I start by seeking advice from Mr Hiyer, my British fertility doctor. He tells me that he has never worked on a British surrogacy case that didn’t involve a sibling or cousin, and once even a mother, but never a stranger. We’re fresh out of familial wombs, so we need to find someone we don’t know who would carry our baby.

In the UK, in an effort not to commercialise the process, only “altruistic” surrogacy is allowed. I can understand this. It means that women are not paid a fee, only “reasonable expenses”, so it rules out financial or emotional exploitation. This also means it’s impossible to recruit or advertise for a surrogate, so you can imagine how tiny that pool is. It’s more like a surrogate puddle. There are only three surrogacy services here. Cots (Childlessness Overcome Through Surrogacy) is the oldest and best known. You pay it a membership fee and it puts you in touch with potential surrogates. It has been reported that there are about 30 active surrogates in England, and thousands of intended parents. That feels more like a lottery than a viable opportunity. So that’s the first seemingly insurmountable hurdle.

Second, British surrogacy laws are about as great as our weather. In the 30 years that surrogacy has been regulated here, very little has changed. It took until 2008 to recognise that intended parents could comprise anyone other than married heterosexual couples. That is about as progressive as we get.

As I talked to my doctor, I proceeded to fall off my chair by degrees.

He tells me: “Surrogacy is entirely unenforceable. Yes, you can draw up contracts, but they’re informal, not enforceable in a British court of law.”

I list to one side.

He goes on. “The surrogate can change her mind about giving up the baby up to six weeks after the birth, even though she would have no genetic relationship to the child.”

I feel my bottom edging more and more to the right.

“Unfortunately the surrogate would be recognised as the ‘mother’, even if the eggs used to make the baby are yours.”

One bum cheek hovers precariously in mid-air.

“Oh yes, also, if she’s married, her husband would be the ‘father’.”

Woman down. Whole self on the floor. Game over.

It seems that, in the UK, surrogacy is the fertility treatment that time forgot.

So many things have happened since surrogacy was first regulated in England. The birth of the internet, mostly, and all the social awareness it has brought. How is it that the law around surrogacy isn’t in line with modern social realities?

Big sigh. My country is not on my side, so I need to look farther afield. Ergo I need a bigger remortgage on my house, I need to resolve my fear of flying and I need to worry less about Donald Trump. Since, if all goes well, I’m going to be intrinsically linked to America for the rest of my life.