When I was barely eighteen, I brought my first daughterMabelinto the world. The delivery was so swift that I realized childbirth was hardly frightening at all. By then surrogacy had already become commonplace across Britain, and I began to weigh it seriously.
My family had never been wealthy. My parents struggled to support me and my three sisters. I married at seventeen, and together with my husband and our little girl we scraped by. We owned no money, no flat of our own, and had to make do with what we could. Thoughts of surrogacy entered my mind then. My husband dismissed the idea, no matter how hard I tried to persuade him, because it seemed the most sensible way out of our financial bind.
A short while later a second child arrived. The strain grew heavier, and my husband finally walked out, unable to bear the hardships any longer. I was left alone with two toddlers. Fortunately my mother and sisters rallied to my side: while I earned my wages they tended to the girls. Yet the pennies never added up. So I resolved to pursue the notion that had lingered in my mind for years.
I travelled to Manchester and applied to a surrogacy agency there. Several attempts were made to implant an embryo, but none succeeded. The final attempt ended in a miscarriage.
Defeated, I returned home and thought of giving up. Six months later, however, I spotted an advertisement online: a particular clinic advertised favourable terms. I rang them, telling myself it was worth a tryif it worked, splendid; if not, it was meant to be.
This time everything fell into place. For twelve months my daughters and I lived in a pleasant flat in a newly built block. The future parents of the child I would carry were generous: they supplied us with fine provisions, bought toys for the girls, and paid for our outings to the cinema and the zoo. Nine months later I delivered a beautiful, healthy boyThomas.
We then returned to our hometown of Norwich. The surrogacy fee was enough to purchase a modest twobedroom cottage in our neighbourhood, and we still had a year ahead of us in which we were determined not to hold back.
Two years after that, I became a surrogate once more, this time for a family from India. I gave birth to a baby boy for them.
Now my daughters and I reside in a spacious house. The girls have everything they could want. Some people may cast judgment, but I see nothing wrong with securing a good life for my family, even if it comes by such unconventional means.
