Jon jumped in. ‘Yes, the child would be taken care of by either my parents or Justin’s, but I’m assuming mine as it would be biologically their grandchild.’
‘Okay, you all seem to have a grasp on that situation,’ Meredith said, ‘but what if the child was diagnosed with a disability? How would you feel, Shannon, if Jon and Justin wanted to terminate the pregnancy?’
I moved my hands to sit on them. I was quiet for a moment, considering her question, until the thought popped into my head that Meredith might misinterpret my silence as something else. ‘Ultimately it would be up to Jon and Justin,’ I said with conviction. ‘Yes, the child will be growing inside me, but if an issue should arise that might affect the rest of their lives, I can’t take away that choice. I would leave the tough decisions about the life of their child to them, as hard as that might be.’
I glanced out the window and noticed a rose bush, the blooms deep red, the stems cluttered with thorns. Something so beautiful is still capable of causing hurt. That was what Meredith was getting at. Even if an action is entered into with the best intentions, an unexpected situation could arise that would put the health and wellbeing of the child at risk and cause all of us pain and heartache. After all, we were dealing with a human life.
‘To be honest, at this stage it’s hard to put myself in that situation,’ I added. ‘It’s hard to know how I would react; hopefully we won’t have to think about such things. But if you need an answer, that’s what I believe I’d do.’
‘Are you okay with Shannon’s response, Andrew?’
‘Yes, I am.’ Andrew smiled reassuringly.
‘Okay then.’ Meredith flipped to a new page and rested her clipboard on her knees. ‘What do you all envisage for the birth? Will the boys be present? Will it be in Sydney?’
I hesitated, only to see if Jon and Justin wanted to speak, even though I felt that the question was mine to answer. This was my domain; the birth would be happening to me, to my body. The boys looked at me, waiting.
‘I suppose I’ll answer that one,’ I said. ‘We’ve discussed this previously and the birth will be in my home town at the base hospital. Having my two children and not knowing when baby will be born, being close to home and my family would be best and easiest. Jon and Justin will simply have to come up for a little holiday and collect their baby.’ I winked. ‘And, yes, I’d love them to be present at the birth. I can’t deny them the chance of witnessing their child being born. They have to see that miracle take place.’
‘You’re comfortable with that?’ Meredith glanced at Andrew, then back at me.
‘Yes, of course,’ I answered. ‘I figure I can’t be shy. But they’re going to see a lot more of me than they bargained for, I’m sure.’ I laughed along with everyone, eyeing off the boys sheepishly.
With the session over, all four of us – relieved smiles on our faces – bundled out of the room like a classroom of kids at the sound of the school bell. I felt as though a heavy weight had been lifted off my shoulders and I wondered if that was what made the others look a little lighter on their feet also. Before we left Meredith’s house, she informed us that another counselling session was required in a month’s time. Before then, with our psych test results in hand, she would summarise details of the surrogacy arrangement and finalise her report for the IVF clinic. She also said she would email us a surrogacy plan, which we would all need to complete with appropriate answers before the second session. The plan was designed to help the four of us explore our ideas in greater depth and thus highlight any potentially significant differences in thinking about what should happen before and during pregnancy, and after the birth. Each couple had to complete their own version, after which we would work on joint answers to each question. These would form part of the discussion at the second consultation.
We walked out into pale late afternoon sunshine, the day drawing to an end. The winter chill stung my cheeks, but I smiled and let the glow inside me keep me warm. I felt no doubts about the journey I was embarking on. The more I talked and thought about the process, the happier I felt about the road ahead.
We reached the boys’ car and clambered inside. I slammed my door quickly to ward off the cold. ‘Thank God that’s over,’ I said, buckling my seatbelt as Jon started the engine.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Justin. ‘And how about that psych test? Some of those questions were heavy.’
‘Those results will be interesting,’ Andrew laughed.
‘I think it all went very well,’ Jon added quietly, turning the steering wheel to pull out into the line of traffic.
I agreed. ‘I think she liked us. She thought we were respectable people and we seemed to cover all her questions well.’ I switched on my mobile phone, checking a couple of messages from Mum. ‘So, what’s next?’ I asked the boys. ‘Back to your place?’
‘Yep. The drive is an hour or so, depending on traffic,’ said Jon. ‘Tonight we’ll take you to Tymon and Sereena’s place for dinner. Sereena is an amazing cook. I think you guys’ll really like them both.’ He glanced at me in the rear-view mirror.
I was looking forward to dinner, and especially to meeting Sereena, but I also felt anxious again. Would she think I was fit to carry a baby for her friends, a baby made with her eggs? Giving the gift of her eggs to Jon and Justin so they could have a child made Sereena an amazing woman, in my opinion. I wasn’t sure I could do the same. Was the offer easier for her as she hadn’t yet had her own children? Was that why I couldn’t do it, because I did have kids and knowing what they each brought to my life would have made donating more personal, more difficult? Or was it more the fact that I’d be carrying the child too and I feared developing a strong connection? I wasn’t sure.
As Sydney’s suburban west flashed by, and Andrew chatted with the boys, I realised that surrogacy was to be my journey and egg donation would be Sereena’s. Just because I didn’t feel that I could do what she was doing didn’t mean I was any less generous than her, and vice versa. Her gift was different, but both our gifts – that collective love – were significant and essential if Jon and Justin were to form a family.
When we arrived at the boys’ property in the hills far west of Sydney, Justin jumped down from the car to open the wide wire gate and then close it behind us. As the car descended I noticed several horses grazing and a large dam at the base of a gentle slope studded with tall gumtrees. We stopped outside a two-storey brick house. I was glad to be out of the car. Gravel crunched underneath my boots as I breathed in the scent of eucalyptus, horse manure and dry grass. Keen to stretch my legs, I walked over to a white horse standing near the fence, chewing on hay.
‘How many acres again?’ I called back over my shoulder to Jon.
‘Fifteen,’ he replied. ‘We have eighteen horses here, but only four of them are ours. Justin looks after horses for people who don’t have a place for them at their own homes, mainly people from the city.’
The property was picturesque and spacious, a far cry from my little cottage on a tiny block in a busy street. Out here you could hear a chorus of birds chirping, the wind rustling the leaves of towering blackbutt trees, and horses grunting as they munched on their feed. The air was fresh, free of traffic fumes. I thought about the child who would grow up in such a place, imagined a little boy or girl running across the paddocks, riding the horses, or splashing in the pool, a cheeky smile on their face.
A knock against my leg jolted me out of my daydream.
‘Walter!’ Jon chastised. ‘Get down, boy.’
I looked down to find a curly-haired black poodle bounding around my feet and leaving dusty paw prints on my boots.
‘Hello, Walter! How are you?’ I rubbed his back, his curls thick between my fingers. The dog lifted his head, withdrew and sniffed my hand, then wagged his tail.
‘Come on,’ Jon said, taking control of the mischievous canine. ‘I’ll show you guys inside, you must be hungry.’
‘I’m going to feed the horses, Jon,’ Justin called, his
footsteps crunching as he walked the gravel path that traversed the property.
We followed Jon through the garage cluttered with tools and the machinery essential to manage an acreage, then up a timber staircase to the second storey. My first thought was how clean and tidy the living area was, as I pictured my own small lounge room, usually littered with Lego, toy cars and puzzle pieces. It would be a lovely home for a child to grow up in. I imagined a colourful mat, toys scattered about, a little baby, inquisitive, crawling around the floorboards. I felt at home here, calm and safe. These two men had their life together, functioning as well as any other couple in a long-term relationship. They had stable careers, a safe home environment and a strong connection – another tick of approval that I was on this journey with the right companions.
Darkness soon fell over the valley and surrounding mountains. The night brought a new iciness to the air and I rubbed my arms in protest. We pulled up outside Tymon and Sereena’s house, about twenty minutes by car from where the boys lived. Out the front stood a For Sale sign and Jon explained that the couple had bought a five-acre parcel of land another thirty minute drive away and would be moving into Sereena’s parents’ home while their new house was being built. I half listened as we walked down the concrete steps to the front door. As we neared, I pulled my handbag off my shoulder and gripped the leather handle. Andrew must have noticed; he put a hand on the small of my back.
‘I’m a bit nervous,’ I confessed.
Justin turned. ‘You’re going to love Sereena and Tymon. Don’t worry. We’ve told them all about you both and they already think you guys are great.’
Jon knocked on the door and I caught Andrew’s eye. He winked at me as he stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets. Maybe he was nervous too.
The front door swung open and a tall, solid guy greeted us. He had a friendly face and an infectious smile. ‘G’day.’ He extended an arm to us and slapped Jon on the shoulder with his other hand.
‘This is Tymon,’ Jon said, nudging his friend’s chest.
‘Nice to meet you, Tymon. I’m Shannon.’ I shook his hand. Andrew did the same, and we followed the others down the stairs into the living area. Although it was dark outside, the view over the valley was impressive with a mass of twinkling lights from a distant suburban Sydney. Their home was quaint, with gleaming timber floorboards and a log fire burning in the open-plan lounge room. The smell of roast lamb and root vegetables permeated the warm air.
‘Hello!’ Sereena moved out from behind the kitchen’s island bench, quickly wiping her hands on a tea towel before tossing it down and giving me and then Andrew a hug. She stepped back and I couldn’t help but analyse her every feature. She was stunning: tall, slim, with flawless skin and healthy, shiny blonde curls. Her smile was radiant and kindness shone in her eyes when she looked at me, lit from within
‘So, how was the counselling session?’ she asked.
She offered drinks and bustled around in the kitchen while Jon filled them in on the day’s events. All four were comfortable and relaxed in each other’s company, the years of friendship between them very evident – family already. Tymon stood by the island bench, a beer in his hand, one minute probing Jon about the questions the counsellor had asked, the next discussing different types of beer with Andrew.
I was keen to get to know Sereena and fascinated to learn that before she and Tymon were together she had lived for a time in Dubai and worked for Emirates as an air hostess. With a shared love of travel, we had plenty to talk about while I helped her set the table.
‘Dinner’s ready, guys. Take a seat,’ Sereena said, piling up roasted pumpkin, potato and sweet potato into a large white bowl.
‘It looks amazing. Thank you,’ I said.
‘I told you she was a good cook.’ Jon heaped a generous portion of lamb onto his plate before sitting down.
Over dinner, we all got to know each other. Tymon and Sereena hadn’t yet had children but they planned to try for a baby once they were settled into their new home. Jon and Tymon spoke about work; both being in the same profession meant they had some funny stories to tell. Our talk then changed to Sereena and her motivations for wanting to donate her eggs to the boys. She said she’d known it was something she wanted to do from the first moment Jon and Justin had mentioned their desire to have a family.
‘Then Tymon offered my eggs before I even got a chance to!’ Sereena laughed while her husband sat back, chuckling from the depths of his belly.
‘I did. But I knew you’d do it. We had spoken about it.’
‘I was a little unsure Tymon was serious,’ Jon admitted. ‘He just came out with the offer before Sereena had the chance, as I recall she wasn’t even there so I couldn’t take it literally until I heard it from Sereena herself.’
‘I’m just so excited that they found you, Shannon,’ Sereena said as she placed dessert down in the middle of the table.
‘I feel the same about you. I guess it’s a team effort.’ I smiled. ‘Without you I couldn’t do what I need to do.’
By the end of the evening I knew we’d made new friends – genuinely nice people who obviously loved Jon and Justin very much to offer such a life-changing gift.
7
Healthy, happy, willing
Outside the window of Jon and Justin’s guest room, morning dew glazed the paddocks and horses huddled close, blankets over their backs. We rose early and prepared for the long drive into the city for my appointment with the fertility specialist and a shorter counselling session at the IVF clinic for Andrew and me.
Justin had gone to work, so Jon drove us. On the way, I tried to prepare myself emotionally for another round of questions. The boys had already completed their second counselling session at the clinic with a woman called Ann, the same woman Andrew and I were about to meet.
Sydney shone in the distance, rays of sunshine reflecting off glass buildings, and cars snaked along the tangle of freeways feeding into the city. My nerves were in a tangle too, so I distracted myself by checking the phone, replying to a text from Mum about the kids. We were ahead of schedule and had plenty of time to find a park and get up to the clinic. Even so, I began to fidget and my mouth felt like someone had vacuumed all the saliva away.
The reception area of the IVF clinic was beautiful, serene and spacious. The walls were painted a calming pastel green, the floor lined with bamboo timber boards. Fertility and infertility were evidently big business. Couples sat close together on plush couches, reading magazines as they waited. Others checked in for acupuncture appointments, a treatment designed to boost their chances of conception. Andrew and I stood behind Jon while he spoke to the receptionist in a hushed tone.
‘Ann won’t be long,’ the receptionist advised. She suggested we take a seat and relax.
Relax! No way. As more women came into the reception area, all I could wonder was how long they’d been trying for a baby, how much heartache they’d been through, and how much more they would have to endure before they either succeeded or gave up. I sat there silently aching for them and wondering whether this would be the day for one of them. Might one of these women leave here today pregnant – finally? So many hopeful faces, and yet some might never have a child. But if I now knew anything, it was that miracles could happen. I looked at Jon sitting on the couch, swiping the screen on his phone. Jon, who just months ago had no clear direction on his path to fatherhood, the road ahead dark and unknown. I knew that life could change in an instant, and in our case a brief email was all it took to get things underway, to shine light on a dream that had seemed impossible.
‘Shannon and Andrew Garner?’ A short, dark-haired woman flicked her shoulder-length bob as she entered the room.
‘Yes, that’s us,’ I said, rushing to collect my bag and nudging Andrew to stand.
‘Follow me.’ She spun and walked down the hallway.
I gave Jon a reassuring glance, pressing my lips into a half-smile. He offered me an encouraging nod.
We sa
t on a narrow couch, a small coffee table at our knees, a box of tissues strategically placed in the centre. Ann sat across from us, notepad resting on her lap, a pen poised. As she introduced herself and explained the session she seemed friendly and professional but reserved.
This meeting was an initial session to get a sense of who we were and why we were doing this. It was also intended to explain the process and prepare us for the journey ahead. Ann wanted to gauge our relationship with Jon and Justin and identify any issues that may arise. After we’d briefly outlined the situation, Ann asked about our previous discussions with the boys and the outcomes we each hoped for. Then she lifted her head from the notes in her lap, eyes focused on me.
‘So, Shannon, why do you want to do this? Why choose to be a surrogate?’
I straightened my back. This question kept coming up, and I was becoming increasingly comfortable with my answer. ‘I want to help. I have two beautiful kids who I love with all of my heart. I’m so, so lucky and I want to give the same opportunity to someone else, someone who has no other immediate option. I can’t imagine having no options, being stuck.’ I swiped at a tear that trickled down my cheek, surprised at how quickly I welled up.
‘I’m about to cry myself,’ Ann said, placing a hand on her throat. ‘Well, I think it’s an amazing thing you’re doing, just beautiful.’ She smiled.
Andrew linked his hand with mine and squeezed. I reciprocated; glancing at him, I saw there were tears in his eyes, too.
As we walked back out into reception, Jon half stood up, his expression hopeful. ‘How’d you go?’ he whispered, pushing his phone into his back pocket.
I placed my bag on the floor and sat down next to him, Andrew on my other side. ‘I think it went well. All three of us shed a tear at one point.’
Labour of Love Page 5
