EMBER
Ipulled into the parking lot designated for visitors in my bucket.
The loud screeching of my brakes caught the attention of the valet attendants.
They gave each other a look as embarrassment washed over me.
Instead of driving in their direction, I looked around for a ‘Self-Parking’ sign, and when I found it, that’s what I opted for.
Little Miracles Surrogacy was located in Santa Monica. Being in a wealthy area already had me feeling out of place and ready to hop back on the freeway and head back to my side of town.
After parking, I sat behind the wheel, trying to find the courage to get out of the car. I was on the verge of flaking because what was I doing?
It felt like it was good versus evil on each shoulder, having a debate over my future.
I took a deep breath, reached for my purse in the passenger seat, checked my face in the mirror, and stepped out of my car. Fear couldn’t win; I wouldn’t allow it to this time. “Fear not because God is with me,” I muttered to myself and headed to the elevator.
I arrived on the third floor and walked to Room 333.
Once inside, I was greeted by a kind, older receptionist. She told me to have a seat until I was called.
I looked around at all the posters on the gold, beige, and brown walls of overly happy pregnant women and photos of smiling families.
In the waiting room was a clear glass table with stacks of brochures with information about surrogacy.
I grabbed one and slipped it into my purse.
When I first contacted the agency, I was advised to go online and save time by completing the initial questionnaire.
Then the surrogacy coordinator, Tina, reviewed the basic qualifications and gathered information about my background, work, and personal motivations for wanting to become a surrogate.
That question caught me off guard because, although my only motivation was that I desperately needed money, I couldn’t bring myself to say so.
Instead, I told her I wanted to give a family the gift of becoming parents.
After our phone conversation, Tina scheduled an in-person appointment for me to meet with the agency representative, Leiyah, for the official intake process, which would include a more in-depth review. Now, here I was, with sweaty palms and feeling uncomfortable, as doubt kept nagging at me.
Someone opened a door, and two beautiful Black women in business suits walked out.
“Ember?” one of them asked.
“Yes, hi.” I stood and greeted them.
“I’m Tina. We spoke on the phone. And this is Leiyah, the agency representative I told you about.” Both women extended their hands for me to shake, then said, “Please follow us.”
Their friendly faces and welcoming dimpled smiles made me feel relaxed. They looked like they could’ve been sisters. The pair shared many similarities, even down to their flawless cocoa brown skin tone. The main difference was that Leiyah was much taller than Tina.
“Ember, it’s so nice to meet you.” Tina glanced my way as we walked down multiple halls. “Before we get started, can we get you a beverage or snacks?”
“It’s nice to meet you as well. And yes, I’ll have a water, please.”
Leiyah slowed down. “I’ll grab that for you and meet you two in the boardroom.”
“Sounds great,” Tina replied as we continued trotting down the hall.
We made it to the end of the hall and stood in front of two dark wooden double doors. Tina unlocked them, pushed them open, and stepped aside to allow me to enter first. She followed behind me and gestured toward a large table, the same deep color as the doors.
After I sat down, she picked up a stack of documents and placed half of them in front of me.
I felt overwhelmed all over again.
What am I getting myself into?
The double doors opened once more, and Leiyah walked in carrying three bottles of water. She handed one to me, gave one to Tina, and held onto the other one as she took a seat at the head of the table.
Leiyah smiled. “All right, Ember. Shall we start?” She picked up a thick black folder that was in front of her.
“Yes, we can. I’m ready,” I told her.
My hands were shaking under the table. I knew damn well I wasn’t ready for this shit at all.
Hours later, I left the agency carrying more than I knew how to handle.
On the passenger seat, next to my purse, was a pile of stapled documents with medical release forms to obtain my health history, details about previous pregnancies, annual checkups, pap smears, STD screenings, and my blood type.
It felt like my entire body and my past were laid out on those papers.
They gave me personal copies of the paperwork to review and better understand the process.
Out of everything, three of the questions stuck with me long after the meeting was over.
How many babies I would be comfortable carrying, whether I would agree to termination if the intended parents requested it, and if I would be okay using my egg if needed.
Those questions replayed in my mind repeatedly. Carrying multiple babies. Abortion. Being the biological mother to a child who technically wouldn’t be mine. Were those real options?
Tina and Leiyah explained that the agency’s job was to connect surrogates with potential parents and manage every part of the process. Including medical, financial, legal, and psychological evaluations.
This was all too much. I tried to wrap my head around how serious this journey actually was. This wasn’t just helping a family have a baby. Along with the contracts I had to sign, it seemed like the couple would have control over me the entire time I carried their child.
I drove home with my radio off. I needed complete silence to process what the hell I had just agreed to do.