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Latest Surrogacy News
Messing with life
The powerful drive
to have children has pushed medical boundaries, but
ignores the need for a sense of identity
Madeleine Bunting
Monday February 2, 2004
The Guardian
On one side of the world, 46-year-old Radha Patel gives
birth to her grandchildren - twins from the eggs of her
own daughter and the sperm of her son-in-law - while on
the other side, 57-year-old television writer Lynda La
Plante celebrates her adoption of a six-month-old baby
boy.
Two very different stories, but with a common thread
- the powerful urge to have children whatever the
obstacles of biology - and with a common, familiar
conclusion of utter joy in the babies' arrival. As both
Aakash Nagla, father of the Indian twins, and Lynda La
Plante made clear, the desire to have a baby overrode
every other consideration. For the former, it took
precedence over his Hindu family's religious scruples
and fear of social disapproval; for the latter, a baby
was more important than all her considerable fortune and
worldly success.
That urge to parent children is so deeply rooted in
so many of us that it will continue to pressure human
ingenuity to devise whatever technological, legal and
social invention and adaptation is needed to ensure it
is satisfied. Patel, for example, was initially
"horrified" at the idea, but her objections were
overcome by her family and she insisted that her
daughter's delight in having two children meant that she
now had "no regrets".
The technological ingenuity seems to know no bounds.
Yesterday, news stories reported a mother giving birth
to babies conceived 12 years ago and who have spent the
first embryonic years of their life in a freezer. Such a
practice could become relatively common as women
routinely freeze embryos as an insurance measure against
rising infertility rates. Just as surrogacy delinks the
genetic and the gestational mother, so embryo-freezing
disconnects conception and gestation. The pattern of
procreation and how it has been ordered in human
societies is being unpicked, bit by bit, and nothing is
left stable; it no longer even seems absurd to imagine
that, in my lifetime, fathers will be able to carry a
pregnancy.
Faced with that powerful drive to parent, all ethical
and religious objections are knocked down, sooner or
later, like pins in a bowling alley. The only boundaries
the British government has been able to police - to some
extent - are the marketisation of the process (surrogate
wombs, eggs, sperm for sale?) and consumerisation (can
we choose sex or eye colour?). But the government's
policing is rapidly being outpaced by the globalisation
of the procreation industry. Click on to Google and,
within seconds, you have the vital statistics of
surrogate mothers offering their services for $20,000
plus expenses. If you can't choose your blue-eyed baby
boy in the UK, simply go elsewhere in the world (if
you're rich enough).
That was what one gay British couple did in the
television series Making Babies the Gay Way, which
finished on Channel 4 last week. Their third child was a
twin of one sibling but born four years later, and was
half-sibling of the other. It takes a while to work it
out, so try it another way: they all had the same
genetic mother, different surrogates, and two shared a
father. There was one extraordinary bit of footage as
one of their fathers talked to the toddlers about their
"mother" in America.
The series also explored another permutation, a
lesbian couple having a baby, and interviewed the
delightfully chatty two sons from one mother's previous
heterosexual relationship. "They're like sisters, like
we're brothers," said one son (he was about six) of the
two mothers now in his life. "No, no they're not," said
his slightly older brother very authoritatively, but he
petered out, he couldn't think of a more appropriate
analogy. The boys wondered whether they would be uncles
to their new sister (with whom they shared no genetic
material): "It's confusing," commented one boy.
It is how this generation understand their origins
that is intriguing. I remember my first nephew trying to
understand kinship when he must have been about three.
It was very important to this toddler to work out what
relationship I had to his grandmother, his mother and
his other aunts and uncles. These ideas are so enormous
and so basic to most people's understanding of their
sense of place and identity that it is almost impossible
to imagine ourselves into the place of this growing
number of children whose arrival in the world has been
less orthodox.
Children whose family structure lies outside the norm
will bear a heavy burden: they not only have to work out
their own narrative, but then explain it to others. What
is fragmenting is a common, collective experience of how
families are made and where they sit in the life course,
and how that structures the idea of generations. When an
elderly, grey-haired lady pushes a pram, is she the
mother or the grandmother, or a bit of both? As families
become more diverse, we will not be able to operate on
shared assumptions of common experience - with all the
potential for solidarity and identification that that
triggers. As with anything unfamiliar, common responses
are frequently hostile or polite disengagement: the
preface to the Channel 4 series was vox pops in the
street expressing instinctive distaste for gay families.
Only a culture so fixated on technology and the
satisfaction of individual desire could have set aside
the intangible, unknowable needs of a future generation:
like the importance of a sense of belonging and
relationship for a secure identity; or the contribution
to social cohesion of everyone subscribing to some
common rules on the process of procreation (even if they
didn't always live by them). The resourcefulness and
resilience of human nature is such that I would argue it
could make good that gap - given time. But ours is a
culture that doesn't give time. No sooner are we
adjusting our understanding of "mother" to cover three
distinct categories - genetic, gestational and carer -
than there is another challenge to these building blocks
of human interaction.
This fertility revolution threatens to outstrip our
capacity to understand our sense of self and what makes
us who we are, and the all-too-likely risk is of
confused, disoriented individuals. It will require
immense parental emotional ingenuity and skill to raise
secure children when their passage to life has been via
Petri dishes, freezers, grandmothers and commercial
surrogates. It's not impossible, just very demanding. We
seem to have stumbled into this experiment on the next
generation driven by that human compulsion to compensate
for our mortality by giving life.
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