Selena Gomez recently revealed that she won’t be able to carry her own baby due to health issues, adding that “for her, there are a lot of good people who would be willing to do a surrogate or adopt, and those are my parents, and that’s her happiness.”
When young mothers are cooking at home with multiple babies hanging from their clothes, it’s an interesting topic for a young, beautiful woman to talk openly about her infertility… What can I say? Think this is a revolution? I’m halfway through my surrogacy journey, so it’s very refreshing to hear someone say the “S” word in such a loud voice. I live in Dubai with my husband and two-year-old son, battling 100 degree heat, and I’m expecting my second child in February. The second child is now growing up 13,000 kilometres away in Las Vegas.
My son’s birth in 2021 was complicated, and the baby’s developing organs were affected. Our eggs and sperm were great, but the oven was broken. After multiple hysteroscopies, surgeries, and rounds of IVF for two years, we were told our best chance of having a second child was to outsource the work. My husband and I are one of three siblings (I’m a twin), so giving our sons a partner was something we innocently never questioned. When doctors finally told us it was time to find alternative transport for a second child, we already had some embryos in the freezer. Surrogacy was the obvious next step for us. The last two years have been tough, so the decision felt easy.
After extensive research we found that the laws surrounding surrogacy vary from country to country. We. Surrogacy has been available in the United States since 1976 and works relatively well (although systems still vary from state to state). We chose an agency in California that was known for its seamless and relatively quick process and didn’t have a long waiting list like in the UK, where I’m from, and Canada, where my husband is from.
We received detailed profiles of women with excellent uteruses, you could call them the human versions of the special assets offered on Selling Sunset, and we spent our evenings gathering detailed health histories, past birth experiences (potential surrogate mothers had to have at least one child of their own) and even spending time looking at family photos.
It took us about a month to find the right person for us. As a first-time surrogate mother, photographer, and mother of two living in Las Vegas, Summer met our needs in every aspect. Our surrogacy agency set her up and took her on a video “date,” and after over two hours of conversation, we knew we had found our match. Sweet, funny, kind, strong, and calm: our surrogate was, and still is, everything we want from someone who will care for our future baby.
Lots of paperwork, many hours of legal meetings, health checks (for the surrogate and her husband), FDA testing (for our embryos, my husband and me), mandatory counseling sessions, and then lots of paperwork. Our embryos were shipped from London to the United States, door-to-door, in a small temperature-controlled refrigerator. Six months after my first meeting with Summer, we discussed embryo transfer via video conference. Exactly two weeks later, she (privately) peed in a cup and showed the pregnancy test results on camera so my husband and I could immediately see the two blue lines develop.
As unrealistic as this all sounds, it’s also pretty unrealistic: being pregnant and not pregnant at the same time. Someone recently pointed out that I go through pregnancy the same way men do: sitting on the sidelines and waiting for my baby to arrive. I prefer to think about it this way. The grief, loss, and shame associated with infertility are real, and what could be worse than having to outsource your baby cooking?
It seems like “something only celebrities would do,” as my (very excited and supportive) mom said when we first told her. The first 12 weeks of the summer were spent battling nausea and fatigue while I vacationed, fake racing around the world, visiting friends, and celebrating our happy news with cold pâtés. Undoubtedly, the biggest, most overwhelming feeling—after the excitement—is the realization of our immense privilege and, if I’m being really honest, the guilt of wanting more than my share. For most people, uterine rupture will bring an abrupt end to any hopes of starting or extending a family. Surrogacy is not a journey everyone can embark on, especially because of the dizzying costs involved.
Still, it’s not devoid of stress. Speaking briefly about those celebrities, Khloe Kardashian previously admitted that her relationship with her son Tatum, who was born via surrogate in July 2023, was initially difficult. Of course, it worries me, but I think it’s a small price to pay for what we get at the end of this crazy journey.
Keeping track of the marked milestones helps to understand the reality without the physical changes. We had a small gender reveal party with close friends and family and it was another boy. I downloaded these apps. (She is now the size of a carrot and will soon be the size of a papaya.) While I was very open about my first pregnancy – a bit of a boast looking back – I had to tell people this time, and it was harder to find a way. Let us tell you, ordering a mocktail or decaf is often an easy entry point into the conversation. But I am not alone. Over the next ten years, the global surrogacy market is expected to grow from US$11 billion to US$76 billion.
So it helps when women like Selena speak up. It helps those of us who want to get pregnant but can’t. By expressing your reality and your acceptance, some of the heartbreaking facts about infertility can hopefully be made less overwhelming. What a blessing.
