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  His little mind ticked over like it always did, his button nose screwed up and then he asked, ‘Why can’t they have a baby?’

  ‘Well, because only ladies can grow babies in their tummies, and this couple that Mummy has met are two men who love each other very much and want a family. But they can’t grow a baby so they need a lady to help them. Is it okay if Mummy helps them?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He nodded.

  ‘It won’t be my baby, though, honey. It won’t be ours. It’ll be Jon and Justin’s baby,’ I told him, rubbing his back.

  ‘Okay.’ His gaze searched the blue sky outside the window. ‘Mum, when can we go to the park again?’

  I smiled. Maybe it was too soon to try to explain the situation to him. After all, how could he understand? He was so young.

  Andrew parked the car outside his parents’ house. I’d been messaging Jon and Justin on the way down, giving them directions. Knowing they’d be arriving soon made my palms sticky with sweat and whatever it was I’d wiped off Keira’s hands before getting out of the car. I wanted to like Jon and Justin, but more than that I wanted them to like me and my family, and to think that I was a suitable candidate: respectable, loyal, trustworthy – and good enough to grow them a baby. I wanted them to know I wouldn’t be asking for anything in return for helping them achieve their dream of becoming parents – no money, no gifts, nothing other than what Australian surrogacy laws permitted.

  While the kids rummaged through boxes of toys their grandmother had readied for them, I sat with Andrew and his parents at the dining table, constantly glancing out the window, watching for a car. When a Nissan four-wheel drive pulled into the driveway, my heart seemed to shudder in my chest. Too edgy to sit still, I stood up, smoothed down my dress and shot a nervous glance at Andrew. He raised his eyebrows and accompanied me to the front door, encouraging me to breathe as I made my way across the courtyard and through the gate to find the boys stepping out of their car. I recognised them both from their photos.

  ‘Hello, you found us,’ I said, and laughed, stepping forward and hugging Jon awkwardly while Justin walked around the back of the car towards me. My second hug wasn’t much better, and as I pulled away from Justin I scanned the grass at my feet, trying to think of something sensible to say.

  Andrew came up from behind me and shook their hands vigorously. Jon was tall and towered over us both. His short, dark brown hair and brown eyes framed by long lashes and thick dark eyebrows made me think he was Italian in origin. Justin was about my height and had piercing blue eyes and sandy-coloured hair with a slight curl.

  ‘Um, do you want to come inside and meet Andrew’s parents?’ I asked. ‘Oh, and the kids?’

  We led Jon and Justin inside, where I introduced them to David and Kay, and then took them into the room where the kids were busy with their heads down pushing toy cars along the floorboards.

  ‘Jaxon, would you like to meet Jon and Justin?’ I said, taking his tiny hand in mine.

  He stood up and stared at one then the other, summing them up. ‘Hi.’

  Jon and Justin greeted him with friendly smiles and I asked Keira to come over. She hid behind my legs, a little frightened of strangers. I didn’t push her, just cupped the back of her head in my hand, letting her be.

  Kay broke the latest awkward silence when she popped her head around the doorway and asked if anyone wanted a cup of tea or coffee. Jon and Justin declined, so I glanced at them and said, ‘Should we go to lunch, then?’

  Sitting in the back of Jon and Justin’s car, I held Andrew’s hand and asked them about their trip up the coast. As they answered, I scanned the car. The interior was spotless and void of anything personal, apart from a pair of shoes in the back. I noted how Jon drove carefully around corners and how he and Justin spoke to each other, and I found it hard to picture Jon in his line of work as a law enforcement officer. My first impression of him was of a soft and gentle man. Justin, more flamboyant, spoke with such enthusiasm he made me laugh. I could imagine him, all flair and charm, guiding young girls on horses, correcting their posture.

  Andrew suggested that before lunch we show them some of the sights of the town where he’d grown up. We stopped at the beach, watching surfers bobbing beyond the waves waiting for the set, and we pointed out the house on the headland where Andrew’s father’s family had lived. Then we went to the lookout with its view down to the wide turquoise mouth of the river where it snaked inland, twisting through banks of mangroves. Even in the middle of winter it was stunning, and we explained how we’d spent many a day there fishing with Andrew’s father in his tinny.

  After arriving at the tavern, we grabbed a table for four on the balcony that overlooked the river’s mouth. By now I was feeling more at ease: the boys seemed friendly, kind and courteous, just two normal guys about to embark on an extraordinary journey. Still, as I glanced over the menu, almost hiding behind it, I wondered what they thought of me. I knew this meeting would involve some big questions, ones that had to be answered before we could go any further. I smiled nervously as I caught Jon sending me a fleeting look of curiosity.

  ‘Well, I think I’m going to have the flathead and salad,’ I said, slapping my menu down.

  Andrew sat back in his chair. ‘Sounds good, I’ll have that too.’

  After ordering the meals, we sat with a drink. Silence ensued. I grabbed my cardigan and wrapped it tightly around me, clearing my throat. I took a deep breath and said, ‘I guess we’d better get started with the questions we have for each other.’

  Jon and Justin braced themselves as Andrew and I asked some of the questions that had been on our minds since that first email.

  ‘So, what do you imagine our relationship to be like after the birth? What are your expectations?’ I asked.

  ‘Well,’ Jon said, shifting in his chair, ‘we’d hope that your family would be involved as much as you’re willing. We’d want you all to be part of our lives and for our child to grow up knowing who you all are.’

  I nodded, sent a quick glance at Andrew. ‘That sounds great, I guess. Andrew and I aren’t doing this on a whim, we want a relationship with you and the child in the future. We want to know that you’d be there for us as much as we will be there for you.’

  Jon blinked, ‘Of course. We couldn’t imagine going through such an experience and then never seeing or contacting you again. We want our baby to have a relationship with your family.’

  I smiled, reflecting on the words and said, ‘This might be jumping the gun, but are you hoping for just one child? Or would you like another?’

  Justin glanced at Jon, his gaze finally settling on me. ‘Ideally we’d love two.’ His blue eyes cast downwards. ‘But we feel selfish for even thinking that when other couples can’t even have one.’

  I pondered the idea, understanding they could both have a biological child of their own if they had the opportunity to have two children. It would mean two pregnancies and births and Andrew and I had discussed the idea before the meeting. ‘I’m not promising anything,’ I said, ‘and we need to see how things pan out with this pregnancy and birth first, but if it all goes well it could be a possibility.’

  The boys smiled humbly and then it was their turn to ask questions. ‘Do you want more children of your own?’ Jon said, his eyes moving from me to Andrew.

  I sat forward, reaching to wipe the condensation from my glass; not to stall, but to ensure that I got my words right. ‘No, we’re done. We have two beautiful kids and we’re very happy. I don’t think I could offer what I’m offering if I wanted more children of my own. That would be too confusing.’

  ‘So, what if there was a chance you wanted to keep the baby?’ Justin queried.

  Of course I’d considered this, but the question was somehow different when asked by the two people whose happiness would depend on my answer. I had to be honest and I had to make my intentions clear before we went any further. But, what if I did want to keep the baby? I’d never been a surrogate. How could I k
now for sure how I was going to feel when I was pregnant, or after the baby was born?

  I breathed out and shook my head. ‘I can tell you now, if I wanted another baby I would have one with my husband. So my intention is that I’m not going to say I want the baby. But of course I don’t know for sure how I will feel, all I know is I’m offering a gift. I’m doing this for you, not for me, and if we go ahead with this surrogacy, the baby is not mine to keep. That’s what I feel even with the uncertainty of what we’re about to do.’

  They smiled, and I saw the relief in their eyes.

  ‘Now I have another question for you both,’ I said. ‘What if the baby is born with a disability or something wrong? Will you turn around and say that you don’t want the baby? Will you walk away and leave me with the child?’

  Justin sat forward. ‘We wouldn’t do that. He or she will be ours and we’ll love the child no matter what.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘But what if you broke up while I was pregnant, or one of you died in an accident? What would happen to the child then?’

  ‘Obviously we’d still take the child,’ he insisted. ‘We’d never leave you with the baby under any circumstances. We’re both committed to having a family, we’d never abandon our baby.’

  The expression on Justin’s face pulled at my heartstrings. Both of them genuinely wanted a baby, a child to call their own. I saw it in their eyes, in the way they moved their hands; their words were sincere, and they spoke with conviction. Only then did I understand that this was where trust and hope came into the equation, on both sides. They had to have faith in me too. They had so much to lose: money, time, and above all the result of a collective love – Sereena’s eggs. Under Australian law I could refuse to hand over the baby and there was nothing they could do. As the birth mother I would have an automatic claim on that child. My name would be on the birth certificate and I could take the baby home when I left the hospital and raise it as my own. That was the risk they were taking – trusting me to stick to my word.

  The most important message to deliver right now was that my keeping the baby was not in the realms of possibility. I was already imagining how, having just given birth, panting and sweaty, I’d happily watch them both holding their child in their arms, their eyes full of love. Their world would change at that moment and I would be a witness to two becoming three, a family. The image made me teary, and I said, ‘I can safely say I don’t want another child. This is my gift to you. I want to help you and I promise, I’m sure, I’d never take the baby.’

  Most of the heavy questions had been laid out on the table and dealt with, with one exception. I had to know that they could care for the child financially, so I asked, as politely as possible, about finances and the security of their jobs, their home situation, and any extended family, like grandparents. While I couldn’t control what happened to the baby, I did hope for a good home life for the child I would bear; to know that he or she would be born into a family with solid foundations, and surrounded by supportive people, both family and friends, who loved each other.

  Jon laughed at my steady line of questioning. ‘My mother, Annette, has been very encouraging,’ he said. ‘She thinks surrogacy is a good option for us.’

  ‘So, the grandparents will be part of this child’s life?’

  ‘Oh yes, very much so,’ said Justin. ‘Both sets of grandparents live about thirty minutes away.’

  A picture had started to form in my head, one that made me happy, satisfied. My gut feeling was that these were good, wholesome, genuine people whom fate had sent our way. They had held the same jobs for many years, were sensible with their finances and had saved some money to start a family, however that was going to happen, according to Jon.

  By the end of lunch, the four of us were laughing and joking and very relaxed, as if we’d known each other for a long time. There was an unspoken sense of finality between us. We were happy with each other and ready to proceed. No one was weird, rude or evasive. We were four regular, stable people who were going to make a baby.

  Justin flopped back in his chair, rolled his eyes and laughed. ‘Thank God you’re both normal. That’s such a huge relief.’

  I glanced at Andrew’s smiling face and chuckled. ‘We feel exactly the same way about you guys, don’t you worry. We didn’t know what we were going to get. But I can safely say that Andrew and I are happy to help you and I’m very excited and grateful to be on this journey with you all.’

  As we left the tavern, I asked Andrew to take a picture of me with Jon and Justin. ‘This’ll be our first photo. One we can all look back on knowing that today was the start of our journey together.’

  Even then I knew that the people in the picture taken on that sunny day in June would be so different to the people after the birth. We would have grown and changed together, and looking back on that photo in years to come would give us all such pleasure and a huge sense of achievement. From humble beginnings, when the baby we all dreamed about was just that – a dream – we would look at that photo in awe at the decision we made on 9 June 2013.

  The boys drove us back to Andrew’s parents’ house, where we said goodbye. Jon said that he would be in touch with details of the first steps in the process: counselling, legal arrangements, and appointments at the IVF clinic. We’d each done our own research online so we all had a rough idea of what would be involved.

  ‘So lovely to finally meet you,’ I said as I hugged them both. A decision had been made, and I couldn’t have been happier. Today was the start of something, and while the path ahead was unknown, I already knew that the reward at the end for us all would be far greater than anything I could ever imagine.

  ‘Thank you so much. You guys are fantastic,’ Justin said, beaming as he shook Andrew’s hand.

  As we stepped back and watched their car pull out of the driveway, Andrew put his arm around me, tucking me under his shoulder. I leaned into him, comfortable and content, and blew the boys a kiss as they drove off. Then I hugged my husband. Standing together on the grass under the thick branches of the African tulip tree, there was no need for words. I rested my chin on his shoulder, closed my eyes and breathed in his aftershave, taking pleasure in the stillness of the moment. I knew that together we’d made the right decision to help two caring, deserving people.

  5

  Mothers, mates and marathons

  ‘You’re going to do what?’ My mother let her coffee cup clunk back onto the saucer. ‘A surrogate?’

  ‘I’ve met a lovely couple from Sydney – Jon and Justin. I’m going to help them have a baby.’

  ‘But how? How did you meet them?’

  Should I tell my mother the whole truth? I shrugged my shoulders and grinned. ‘A mutual friend told us about them, so I emailed.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Mum sipped her coffee, her narrowing, grey-blue eyes still fixed on me.

  I had never discussed the idea of surrogacy with my mother. I could understand that she was worried about me, her eldest daughter. Maybe I’d feel the same if Keira came to me one day and announced that she was doing something that would put her life and health at risk. Like Andrew, Mum just wanted to know that no harm would come to me. She was no doubt scared I’d be used, abused or taken for granted, and she needed reassurance that the journey would leave me better rather than worse off.

  If anyone knows me well it’s my mother. Pragmatic, she leads by example, and throughout my childhood she taught me strength, resilience and the ethos of hard work. She kept our family unit of five going when Dad was out of building work, kept me, my sister and little brother fed, clothed, tidy and respectable while running the award-winning vocational training college that she and a business partner had built from the ground up. Even though my mother had limited time to spend with us – she was, in a sense, the steady breadwinner – I knew that her children were the reason she did what she did, and that she worked so hard in order to give us a better life. Mum had so much on her plate managing a successful business for twen
ty-five years, a family and later, the breakdown of her marriage to Dad, and it was something I only really grasped when I was overwhelmed with caring for my own young family. Often I’d think about ringing Mum to thank her for all she’d done for me, all she had sacrificed for the love of her three children. I benefited from having a strong female role model in my life: from her example I came to understand that if I wanted something I had to go out and get it. Nothing worthwhile comes by sitting back and waiting. I had to step out into the world and grab onto what I wanted with both hands. That knowledge had helped me believe I could do whatever I put my mind to, such as being a gestational surrogate. I just had to be strong and believe in myself.

  ‘It’s okay, Mum. Really, they’re lovely people. I’m sure you’ll meet them one day. Jon’s in law enforcement and Justin owns a beauty salon and teaches people to ride horses.’

  A half-smile tugged at her lips. ‘If I know anything, it’s that you’ll do what you put your mind to. Just be careful, that’s all I’m getting at.’

  ‘I take after you, Mum.’ I grinned, shaking my head. ‘You raised me to make good choices. I promise, I’ll be fine.’

  Informing my father of my decision was a little more difficult. Over the years his health had deteriorated – particularly after the divorce from Mum. A later diagnosis of vascular dementia often robbed him of short-term memory and he moved into a nursing home. Our relationship has never been close, even as a child, and as I told him of my plans he showed minimal interest. Unsure of what to say, he sipped his coffee and gazed out over the café I’d taken him to for lunch, his eyebrows raised, eyes vacant.

  Telling other family and my friends about my decision to become a surrogate brought mixed reactions. Some people were stunned by the news, falling quiet, even looking at me strangely, as if the decision defined me in some way, making me suddenly different. Others were overjoyed, their eyes lighting up when I told them.