Issue 57: What. The. Fuck
Saturday July 13 2019
One of the more difficult things about international surrogacy is trying to have a meaningful face-to-face conversation with anyone involved. It has to be done electronically, which already makes it a bit awkward. And it has to be done at a mutually convenient time, which is not easy when you factor a six-hour time difference around three people’s working day.
On this and most previous occasions we Skype with Lydia at 1am our time. It’s the child-free losing hand, but we don’t mind; this has become a genuine friendship, and it’s nice to talk. This time, though, it’s small talk — that’s weird — and then she gets to the crux of what she has to tell us. It’s not good.
From the gradual decline in the tone of her Instagram affirmations (it’s how you gauge a person’s existential malaise these days), I suspected something might be rotten in paradise, but still, not quite this. “So, um, I’m getting a divorce.”
Actually this is worse than I’d been fearing. I’m not sure what order to sort my thoughts, but conflicting dismay is definitely pushing to the forefront.
And then: “getting a divorce” suggests the relationship has been breaking down for a while now. No one gets a divorce the day after a happy marriage. How come we didn’t know? Is she OK? Has she been OK?
We listen as she tells us she is in fact more than OK, but I can’t help feel a creeping sense of unease. Was it this? Was it the strain of surrogacy? Are we responsible for the break-up of a marriage? Oh God, oh God — hang on a second, though. I need to remember, they both signed up for this, knowing the strength of their relationship. The initial screenings and the psych evaluation and all the imperative steps in the beginning were to make sure this kind of thing wasn’t happening or likely to happen. So what happened?
As hard as it is to gauge or convey over Skype at this time in the morning, we offer our wholehearted support. She’s worried we’ll judge her. As it happens, judgment is the last thing from our minds. Of the many friends’ weddings I’ve been to since Mr B and I got married seven years ago, about half have already split up. It’s a sad societal condition, but it’s certainly not unusual. There are always valid reasons, and Lydia’s shouldn’t matter to us. Unless, of course, it is us. She’s fundamentally reassuring, telling us he works away so much that she has basically been a single mom to her three children the past six months or so. She’s exhausted.
OK, so, hmm. This does not feel good to feel, but clearly there is a bit of a conflict here that goes beyond Lydia’s marriage issues. As Mr B and I lie awake way past 2am and then 3am not saying what we are both thinking, the uncomfortable worry settles into a humongous “what if?”. Could this obvious stress and exhaustion be the reason our first two embryos failed? It’s horrible to feel so selfish when the impact on our journey seems the farthest worry from Lydia’s mind right now, but I suppose that’s just another “quirk” of surrogacy.
When we first match and meet and plan, we have to trust that our surrogate is happy and healthy, open and honest, and wouldn’t keep a critical change in circumstances from us. It’s why it’s right there in the contract: “must declare any change in circumstances immediately”. But then, I guess, that’s kind of grey. Why would she tell us if she’s just at the “having issues” stage? Emotionally, I understand why she waited until crunch time, but if she were being taken on as a potential surrogate by a doctor or agency in the US and she declared a relationship breakdown, she would be rejected. There is a reason for that; it’s to do with protecting her mental and physical health, optimising success rates, minimising potential disruption and mutual stress, all the obvious cons that make divorce incompatible with surrogacy. So, at this point down the line, what is the difference?
It feels like another punch in the heart, but this one comes after a long relationship build between Lydia and us, so our heart aches for everyone involved. She tells us the agency knew and advised her to share the news in her own time when she was ready. Absolutely true and sound relationship advice. Absolutely not in the best interests of the agency’s international surrogacy clients, who potentially just discovered why two of their precious three embryos didn’t implant.
This is where the murky waters of commercial surrogacy become a murky whirlpool. Guessing and culpability and correct processes and contract breaching and friendship straining and really, I have to admit it to myself now, serious mismanagement from an agency that keeps letting us down. Ultimately, where does emotion end and business begin? Is it back in the UK and starting all over again?
Not here, not tonight, that’s for sure. Primarily, we need to make sure Lydia feels OK, make a plan to get true and sound advice from the doctor — again — and, sadly, think about exactly where this emotional bend in the road leaves us, business-wise.