Have you watched the new(ish) sitcom, The New Normal? The story line revolves around a gay couple, their surrogate, and the surrogate’s daughter.
The four of them have come together to create a family and the show is sweet, funny, thought provoking, irritating – everything a good show should be.
The reason I bring up the show is not the most obvious theme of homosexual couples. Since I saw the first episode, I have been contemplating the idea of surrogate mothers – not that I personally want to be one.
I am so beyond the point where pregnancy is a happy thought. I never want to have to lose 80 pounds again; I never want to push an 11 pound baby out of my body (yes, my kids were all big babies). Some people look cute when pregnant. I am not one of them.
The idea of a surrogate is fascinating to me. On the one hand, I think it is a selfless service to offer a couple who can’t have a child, whether they are same sex or opposite sex couples. I know for sure that I couldn’t do it.
I have had eight children and I assure you that from the moment I was aware of their presences they were babies. Not fetuses, not embryos, not random pieces of tissue. They were my babies and I was in love with and building a relationship with them from the get-go.
I would not have been able to hand them over to anyone. Ever.
On the other hand, I sort of feel like it is turning a baby into a commodity and I think there is way too little value placed on children in our society as it is. Some people talk like growing a baby is akin to growing hair or fingernails – which is just weird to me.
No doubt, being a surrogate is not something I could ever do. It would always be my baby no matter what. Could you do it?
photo credit: Daquella manera via photopin cc
