We talk about birth size, and
whether the baby will be on the large side, like Carol’s two younger sons. We laugh
thinking about this petite Asian couple taking home a ten-pound baby. “I know
several other surrogates who’ve had Chinese babies,” Carol says. “Eventually,
the environment outside wins.”
***
Jane and Jian Zhang met during
college in 1995 and married in 2007. After graduation, Jane took a job for a
large, multinational computer corporation; now, she and Jian run their own
educational tutoring company. They travel to the U.S. several times a year for business
although for the past few years, Jane hasn’t been working. They make their home
in Beijing, China’s capital and one of its largest cities, with population in
the 20 million range. Jane is about five-feet-three-inches tall by my sister’s
estimation. She is trim with shoulder-length black hair she has a habit of
gathering and pulling to one side or the other while talking. She is expressive
and outgoing, very similar to Carol’s personality. Both of the Zhangs are
stylish in appearance and clothing. Jian is stockier and slightly taller; he is
shy but has warmed up considerably over their meetings. In a letter the couple
submitted for potential surrogates when beginning the process, they wrote: "We live in a happy life, both of us think that the most lucky thing in our life is to meet the other."
The Zhangs were married for two
years when they started trying to have a baby, and they’ve been at it for five
years. Early inventions included natural remedies: holistic herbs, teas and
treatments, and during the last three years, they’ve attempted several IUIs in
Beijing with no success. Because their efforts included miscarriages, they
turned to surrogacy. A friend referred them to West Coast Surrogacy in Irvine, California, and
after Jian did some initial research, Jane hopped on a plane and went directly
to their offices. Jane is thirty-eight years old and Jian is thirty-seven.
Everything about a surrogacy is
contracted, so matching a potential surrogate with parents requires, at first,
a perusal of the requirements stated by each. Some surrogates, for example,
will not agree to terminate a pregnancy no matter what. Others will agree to
termination in cases of extreme defects. The contract stipulates every possible
scenario. It requires the parents to designate beneficiaries, should something
happen to them during the pregnancy and it prohibits certain activities for the
surrogate: skydiving, consuming alcohol, anything that could put the baby at
risk. Carol is banned from traveling toward the end of the pregnancy.
The demand for surrogates is high.
I ask Carol what factors influenced her decision to work with the Zhangs,
whether their story was important to her.
“Definitely,” she says. “I wanted
to help a couple who couldn’t have their own baby. And I liked Jane’s honesty."
I ask her what she means.
“One item on the questionnaire
asked whether they planned to tell the baby she was born via a surrogate.
Jane answered that she didn’t know. She didn’t put what she thought a surrogate
might want to hear.”
 |
| Gifts from the Zhangs |
Jane and Carol stay in touch via
email and text. They talk about how Carol is feeling, about plans for future
visits, about what will happen when the baby is born. Jane occasionally sends
Carol care packages—a supply of nutritional bars, a special oil for stretch
marks. She once sent presents for Carol’s three boys. Perhaps because of the
nature of the surrogacy arrangement, medical intervention is very conservative
and thorough. Carol had to repeat the glucose screening test for gestational
diabetes three times and she agreed to an amniocentesis. Jane flew in
from Beijing, along with her mother and Jian’s mother. The women
crowded into the room and watched the preliminary ultrasound. This was when
they confirmed the baby was a girl. Jian’s mother whispered something to Jane,
who explained: “She is worried you’ll want to keep the baby now that it’s a
girl.” Carol laughed and assured them she did not.
I too wondered about Carol’s
feelings, having no daughters of her own, and I worried about my admittedly
stereotypical notions about gender preferences for Chinese couples. Were the
Zhangs hoping for a boy? I spoke to Carol after she left the appointment and
asked her about both of these issues. She told me it didn’t phase her at all
that the baby was female; it made no difference whatsoever. From the beginning,
she said, this pregnancy has been different from her others. She didn’t feel
the bond she felt with her children, only the responsibility to keep healthy
and provide nutrition for the baby. Basically, it felt like a job. A personally
fulfilling job, but a job nonetheless.
As for the Zhangs’s feelings about
their new daughter, Carol says everyone involved is thrilled. Jian is an only
child so it is the first grandchild on his side; Jane has two brothers and each
has one child, both girls. So, this baby will fit right in.
Carol’s husband Jose has been her
partner in this endeavor. He had to undergo the same psychological evaluation
she did and a complete physical, and he reviewed every page of the very long,
very detailed contract and signed wherever Carol did. He has definitely stated
his opinions from time to time. He was appalled by the idea of selective reduction
and told Carol he didn’t want to hear anything about it. In the event of an
emergency C-section, he insisted he would be the one to accompany Carol into
the surgery and not Jane. And during the counseling screening, Jose was annoyed
when the psychologist asked about Carol’s weight gain throughout a potential
pregnancy and whether it would bother him. He made some brief, complimentary
comments about pregnant women, which prompted the psychologist to write in the
report: “Husband seems to be attracted to pregnant women.” Carol’s caseworker
still brings this up from time to time to tease them.
Jose administered the nightly shots
in Carol’s backside prior to the IVF; he and the boys have been making sure she
doesn’t carry anything heavy or strain herself in any way. Her husband’s
biggest concern, Carol says, was her attachment to the baby. But from the
beginning, he’d noticed the ways this pregnancy was different from the
others, and has been reassured.
***
Two months before the due date,
Jane and Jian arrive in California for a visit. They meet Carol for several
long lunches. They plan to come out for a few months when the baby is born;
Carol has agreed to supply breast milk for up to four months. They
talk about the logistics of picking up the milk. Carol would prefer limited
contact after the birth and she tries to think of nice ways to say this. They
talk about baby supplies and Carol offers suggestions and advice. Then, the
Zhangs make a special request: they ask Carol to choose an American name for
the baby. The birth certificate will show her Chinese name, but the American
name is what they will call her. They want a simple moniker, something short
and easy to pronounce. Carol thinks about it for a couple of days and the next
time they meet, she tells them her choice: Mia. Jane immediately bends down,
rubs Carol’s belly, and says “Hello, Mia. I’m your mommy.”
***
The financial arrangement between Carol
and the Zhangs is detailed, broken down into a series of payments over the
course of the surrogacy relationship. Specific amounts were paid to Carol at
certain milestones, such as when she passed the initial physical, the
completion of the embryo transfer, the confirmation of a positive pregnancy
test, and the twelve-week mark. She was given a one-time payment for maternity
clothes; there’s a monthly stipend to cover expenses such as food, vitamins,
visits to a life coach, and parking fees at the doctor appointments. During the
second trimester of the pregnancy, this monthly check increased, as did the
assorted milestone payments. At that point, the payments began chipping away at
the main, larger payout, the majority of which is paid at delivery and for a
few months afterwards. All of the checks are drawn from a trust established by
the Zhangs. Carol uses her regular, employer-provided medical insurance for
doctor visits, but she is reimbursed the monthly amount deducted on each of her
paychecks. She submits copays to the surrogate agency and gets that money back
too. There will be a weekly fee for providing breastmilk after the delivery.
Carol and Jose decided early on to
set aside each and every check received. They opened
a special account for the fees she’d receive as a surrogate and plan to use the
money for some sort of investment, maybe a rental property. I ask Carol to
estimate what the whole process has cost the Zhangs and at first, it’s
difficult for her to come up with a number. In addition to Carol’s fees and other
medical expenses, there’s travel back and forth from China, the hotels and the
rental house, assorted legal fees. She says the Zhangs are nearing $100,000 out
of pocket, if she had to guess.
***
On February 23rd, four days after
the baby’s due date, Carol meets Jane and Jian Zhang at her doctor’s office.
She’s been in good health throughout the pregnancy although in recent days, her
boss has sent her home twice to elevate her feet when she noticed how swollen
Carol’s ankles were. Jian is in California for two weeks only, after which he
needs to return to Beijing to work. Jane arrived at the beginning of the month,
with her mother and one of her brothers. They’ve rented a house in Yorba Linda,
forty miles from the hospital, and they’ll stay closer at a hotel when the time
comes. Everyone is ready, but the baby is not cooperating. At thirty-eight weeks,
she was positioned sideways. Carol spent a weekend perusing a website about
“spinning your baby” and attempting the recommended techniques to get Mia into
the proper head-down position. Her efforts succeeded and the doctor fitted her
with an uncomfortable pregnancy girdle that she’s been wearing ever since. And
now, the baby seems to be in no hurry to come out.
At the appointment, the parents and
Carol discuss their options. Jane and Jian are inclined to let the delivery
occur without intervention; the doctor is disinclined to let Carol go beyond
seven days past the due date. They decide to induce labor in two days. Carol
will go to the hospital in the late evening, and they’ll aim for delivery on
February 26th, which is also Jian’s birthday. Carol has just turned
forty-three on the 22nd, so it’s to be a week of birthdays.
The next day, the 24th,
Carol meets the Zhangs for lunch at a Thai restaurant. She orders a dish with
eggplant and tofu; she’s retained healthy habits throughout the pregnancy, which
has been probably the healthiest of her four pregnancies. During the lunch,
Jane and Jian tell her a little about Chinese astrology—yin and yang, the
12-year cycle of animal zodiac signs, and the five elements: metal, wood,
water, fire, earth. Carol listens politely as they explain that under Chinese
astrology, one’s fate and destiny can be computed using birthday, birth season
and birth hours. She starts to get an inkling that this brief lesson might
concern her. They tell her they’ve consulted with Chinese experts as to the
perfect time for the baby’s birth on the 26th.
“Don’t they understand how this
works?” I sputter into the phone when she tells me.
“I know,” she says, “but it’s a big
deal to them. The experts gave two windows: 7:00 to 9:00 in the morning, or
between 1:00 and 3:00 in the afternoon.”
We talk about this for a few
minutes, about all the ways it’s unrealistic and how many things could go
against plan. The Zhangs pled their case to the doctor, though, who has moved
back Carol’s admittance time to eight o’clock in the evening. Maybe they’d be
able to catch that first, morning window, he said.
We both think the delivery, once
began, will go very quickly. I’m planning to drive up to see her on Friday, the
day after the birth. Jose will send group texts to update family while they’re
at the hospital. We hash over all of the possibilities we can think of, and we
joke about her ability to deliver during the peak astrology times. Good luck, I
say before hanging up. It feels so different, even to me, from the other times, when we had our babies.
***
The labor and delivery, the
eventual birth right in the middle of that first favorable Chinese astrological
window, was a twelve-hour drama not unlike anyone else’s. Carol was expecting a
quick and easy delivery. She’d been induced with all three of her boys and had
delivered Malcolm, her youngest, easily in one big push.
She arrived at Cedar Sinai around
8:00 p.m. and within an hour, was admitted and placed into her delivery room.
Jose was there, from the start, along with Jane. Later in the evening, Carol’s
boys came to visit with our mom. Jordan sat on the floor doing his homework, and
Quincy asked when she was coming home. All three were happy to see her, yet
about as interested as kids are in anything outside of their immediate world. After
a short visit, they went home. It was a school day, after all. Around midnight,
the nurse administered Pitocin to start labor, and contractions started right
away. Jane’s mother and brother visited for a while. At 3:00 a.m., they broke her
water. At 4:00, Jose texted to say they’d started an epidural. The rest of the
early morning was hectic. There’d been meconium in the amniotic fluid, so there
was concern about that. The baby’s heartrate had been fluctuating and she was
not descending as she should. At some point, the night nurses thought that
Carol should be prepped for a C-section. At 6:00 a.m., Jose texted to say that
the veteran morning nurses had come in and taken over. The doctor wanted to
administer more Pitocin and turn off the epidural. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Carol had
joked. At that time, the baby’s head was still high so they had Carol move into
some challenging positions.
Jane and Jian were there all
morning. Jane stayed near Carol’s head most of the time, but when the extreme
positioning started, Carol says that Jian moseyed towards the door,
behind a curtain. The doctor thought the umbilical cord may be wrapped around
the baby. Carol started to push at 7:45 a.m. Those present: Jose, the Zhangs,
the case manager for the surrogacy, and Jose’s mother, who hurried in before
work, just in time. “I haven’t missed the birth of any of my grandchildren,”
she announced, “and I wouldn’t miss this one, even if it’s a surrogate
grandbaby.” Jose rubbed Carol’s forehead and told her to push from below, not
with her face, something he’d said throughout all of their births, and his
mother remarked about the baby’s thick hair, as she had for each of her
grandsons. Jane and Jian were mostly quiet, although Carol remembers reading
concern for her on Jane’s face. At 8:26 a.m., Mia was born.
I ask Carol about that golden
moment she had anticipated, the one that sustained her throughout the
pregnancy.
“It was different than I thought,”
she says. “Because of the meconium, the nurses took Mia and spent about ten
minutes cleaning and checking her. The cord was wrapped around her neck three
times so there was a lot of activity, right after.” Carol explains that while
the nurses were handling the baby, Jane was close by, watching everything they
did, and Carol was a little distracted, what with delivering the placenta and
all.
“But that moment,” she says, “when
it finally came, was just as good as I imagined. Jane had been advised to hold
the baby bare chest to bare chest, so she had a gown on. And when they handed
her the baby, that look on her face, the way she just stared, and smiled a
little smile, and kissed her, it just made me remember how strange it is to
meet someone and fall in love immediately.”
The day Mia was born, it turned out
I had to drive up to Los Angeles to pick up Jason from the airport. So we visited
the hospital in the afternoon, about six hours after delivery. Cedar Sinai is a
huge facility with lots of long hallways. After a few wrong turns, we found Carol’s
room down a long corridor in what seemed like the furthest corner of the maternity
wing. When we parted the curtain in the doorframe, bright sunlight streamed
through a center window, under which the baby lay motionless, swaddled in a
hospital blanket. The room had space for the bed and one chair, which Jane had placed
next to the bassinet. I don’t think she used it much. In the short time we were
there, she paced around the room, back and forth from the baby to the chair, up
and down, to talk to the nurses, and back to the bassinet again. The baby slept
soundlessly until she mewed a few faint cries and Jane jumped up to get her.
Carol was full of vigor and happy
to see us. I hadn’t met Jane before and wasn’t sure what to expect—about her,
about the whole situation. But I can only say that the brief visit touched me
in unexpected ways, and felt absolutely, strangely “natural.” Carol seemed to
have a certain pride about the baby and yet, it was obvious Jane was the one in
charge of her. As we stood chatting with Carol in the cramped room, I looked
over to see Jane holding Mia and looking at her in that ravenous way Carol and
I both later recalled from having our own babies. The slight smile, the
unwavering gaze, the quiet murmurs; it was incredibly touching. Jian arrived
with Jane’s mother, who hadn’t seen the baby yet, and Jason and I hustled out
of there to give them their space. It was their baby, their moment. I had no
desire to hold Mia, as adorable as she was. I had concerns only for my sister.
***
The birth had been more difficult
than Carol had anticipated, and the recovery was too. She was sick when she
came home and had a deep, congested cough that made healing from a vaginal
birth difficult. She was pretty much exhausted but rallied and was working
from home within a few days. She returned to her office ten days after the delivery.
She and Jane have been in contact regularly,
mostly via email. Carol has been pumping breastmilk around the clock and
sometimes, Jane comes to her workplace to pick it up. Three times since the
birth, Carol has seen Mia, usually strapped into her infant carseat. She’s an
adorable baby, of course, with creamy skin and bright features. She strongly
favors her father, with whom she shares a birthday.
***
I remember saying to my mom during
one of our discussions before the surrogacy, something like, “Who knows, maybe
a year from now, it’ll all be over and everything will be fine and we’ll say,
well, that was such a nice thing she did.” And that’s pretty much where we are.
It’s over and everything was fine. Except it was so much more than a nice
thing, and sharing the whole experience with my sister has affected me in ways
I couldn’t have predicted. She now understands intimately what we went through
to have our children, and I feel that has drawn us even closer. In the course
of our conversations during the pregnancy and in exchanges I had with other
people, I’ve been continually surprised by people’s reactions, particularly
women. While it may be true at the beginning that some were reacting to my own
reservations, many were hesitant to voice support and in some cases, were downright
disapproving. Several times I’ve been questioned as to why the Zhangs didn’t
just adopt one of the many orphans in their country. I can’t answer that.
I
can’t answer exactly why my parents chose to adopt and some families do not, why
some women undergo fertility treatments and others will not, why some choose
surrogacy or sperm donation or foreign adoption, or have ten children, or two,
or none. These are personal choices and sometimes, I’m surprised by how
judgmental women can be and at other times, how empathetic. Of course, now that
Carol’s experience is over and everything seems to have turned out swimmingly,
everyone is much more relaxed about it. As I was/am, I guess. Maybe we women
just worry about each other, that’s all.
 |
| Carol, Jose and their boys |
As for Carol, she is healthy,
happy, and as busy as ever. As I type this on a Sunday morning, she is at a
work-sponsored charity run, manning one of the water stations with her eldest
son. She spent yesterday at the boys’ track meet . There’s been no
lull for her; she remains a productive, working mom and maybe, from time to
time, she thinks ahead to the eventful weekends the Zhangs can now anticipate. She’ll
always carry the knowledge of the tremendous gift she gave them.
***
Mia is
an American citizen. China doesn’t have dual citizenship, so she’ll never be a
citizen of her home country. At the age of twenty-one, Mia will be able to
apply for U.S. green cards for both of her parents. When Carol asks Jane if she
and Jian would ever move to America—for example in the case that Mia attends
university here and ends up staying—Jane says she would never leave China. It’s
her home, she says.
Near the end of April, Jane asks to
meet Carol for coffee on a weekday morning. She arrives at Carol’s office with
the baby, her brother and the nanny she has hired to help her. Mia is almost
two months old. For the past several weeks, Jane has been seeing the same
reproductive endocrinologist they used for the surrogacy, in the hopes of
attempting their first IVF before returning to Beijing. But arriving home with
an infant and another on the way is not in the cards. She tells Carol that
neither of the egg retrievals yielded good results and she’s booked her flight
home for the coming Sunday. Carol holds the baby and they snap a final
photograph together. Carol agrees to continue to send breast milk for the rest
of the week but that night, she’s only able to get about a quarter of the usual
amount. She thinks her body somehow intuitively knows it’s time to stop. I ask
her if she’s sad about them leaving and in her usual, upbeat voice she says,
“Not really, no.”
We text each other the morning
after Jane leaves with Mia. We talk briefly about this essay, about other
things. Carol tells me the Zhangs have asked her to have another baby for them.
“I’m ignoring that last part for now LOL,” I text. And she sends me an LOL
back.
UPDATE, ONE YEAR LATER
Jane was recently back in California
with Mia. She arrived Thanksgiving week to start treatment for baby number two.
The results of her egg retrievals were disappointing, so she went home and
plans to return in a couple of months. If all goes well then, they’ll attempt
an embryo transfer in March or April. My sister has agreed to be their surrogate.
