It took a lot of people, time, and money to bring me my twin daughters, but becoming a dad is the best thing that ever happened to me.
My 2-year-old twin daughters have brought me more joy, love, and happiness than any words can express. They’re my life, and have taught me so much about living in the moment, about what a wonderful mother and family I have, and how important it is to have structure, routine, and discipline.
I always wanted to have children, but never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined how I’d finally become a dad. It took several years, over $150,000, a lot of love and support from many people, and a great deal of effort for me to have children. Katie and Ellie were so wanted; they were brought into this world unlike most babies, and I am very appreciative for the medical miracle that brought them to me. As a 38-year-old single dad, I’m so grateful to live in a society where my path to parenthood was possible.
My road to fatherhood started when I turned 30 and decided that within five years I would have kids whether or not I had a partner. I never really worried about being a single dad, and I wasn’t willing to put my life on hold waiting for a relationship.
When I turned 34, I started doing some research into surrogacy. I wanted children so badly that I never doubted my decision to do this alone, but it would have been nice to share this amazing experience with someone other than my close friends and family.
But I accepted the reality of my solo situation, and got in touch with a surrogacy agency in San Diego that would introduce me to prospective egg donors and surrogates. I hired a lawyer to coordinate contracts and iron out a mind-boggling array of details, including every possible “what if” scenario that could occur during the pregnancy—medical complications, something happening to me, etc.
After doing a lot of research, comparing success rates, and checking references, I hired a fertility doctor (who reminded me of a mad scientist). I secured an insurance agent who specialized in surrogacy to obtain a very expensive Lloyds of London health- and life-insurance policy for the surrogate.
Finally, most surreal of all, I searched through pages of potential egg donors. How does one go about selecting a total stranger to be the biological mother of his unborn children? A good friend of mine suggested choosing an egg donor who physically resembled my sister—dark hair, brown eyes, average height and weight—so that my children would look like they belonged in my family. But for me it wasn’t about the color of the donor’s hair or her physical proportions. It was more about the connection I felt to her. I looked at medical records, family medical histories, likes, dislikes, hobbies, interests, and of course, the photos. Most important to me was a clean medical record, a decent grade-point average, and a sense of likes, dislikes, and hobbies. Personal or family history of high blood pressure, heart disease, diabetes, alcoholism, death at a young age, etc., would all have been deal breakers. The egg donor I chose was athletic, into dance, played the piano, and enjoyed art.
I drove from Los Angeles to San Diego several times and interviewed at least five potential surrogates. The first one I selected wasn’t able to pass the physical test; she’d had two Caesarean sections already, which labeled her a higher-risk candidate. Another potential surrogate showed up for her interview with her 11-year-old daughter in tow; it was very odd. Still another told me she’d prefer to have minimal contact with me during the pregnancy if she was selected. Most of these women had their own children already, and were not interested in adding to their families.
I finally chose a soft-spoken woman who appreciated my desire to be very involved in the pregnancy. She was a married mother of three, deeply religious, who had loved being pregnant.
- 1
- 2
