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Latest Surrogacy News
More gays and lesbians than
ever are becoming parents
Britain's first embryo adoption service is to be launched by
the end of the year.
An American company is
planning to bring the service to the UK to allow couples who
have undergone IVF treatment to offer any unwanted embryos
for adoption.
Following a screening
process, embryos are sent to prospective parents and
implanted into the surrogate mother's womb.
Until now there has been no easy way for two sets of
prospective parents to get in contact, despite the fact that
the process is believed to be legal in Britain.
Snowflakes, a Los
Angeles-based firm, has produced 32 children with the
service in America. The company screens both sets of parents
in the same way as a traditional adoption process.
The donor parents are able
to specify what kind of home they want their embryo to go to
and can veto parents they think unsuitable.
Snowflake charges $4,000
(£2,404) for the service, on top of which parents-have to
pay for a report on their homes and clinic fees for
implantation.
Pro-life groups have hailed
the move, calling it a "heroic act" and claiming it is
saving the lives of embryos that would otherwise be
discarded.
JoAnn Eiman, of Snowflakes,
said it had started the programme after hearing that in
Britain embryos are thrown away after five years unless the
parents ask for an extension to 10 years.
In an interview tonight
with Channel 4 News, Ms Eiman reveals plans to launch the
service worldwide.
Dr Alastair Sutcliffe, an
IVF expert at University College London's Royal Free
Hospital, said: "Medically, this is an incredibly
straightforward procedure. There is no guarantee the
procedure will result in a child."
ORLANDO, Fla. _ It's dinnertime at the Barton household and
Madilyn's turn to say grace. Holding her parents' hands, the
5-year-old races through the blessing:
"God-is-great-God-is-good-Let-us-thank-him-for-our-food,"
she says breathlessly.
"Whoa, Madilyn, not so fast," her Papa admonishes gently.
"Please do it again."
Twin
sister Marilyn giggles as Madilyn recites the prayer again,
this time slowly. This time, both Papa and Daddy smile
approvingly.
Night after night in their two-story Orlando, Fla., home,
Craig and Don Barton and their adopted daughters follow a
routine familiar to millions of families. As a gay couple,
Craig, known as "Papa" to his girls, and Don, the man they
call "Daddy," may not be apple-pie traditional, but, like
most committed parents, their daily lives center on their
children.
The
Bartons are part of the "gayby boom," an explosion in the
number of gays and lesbians who, at peace with themselves
and their place in society, are choosing parenthood through
adoption or reproductive technology.
"There was a sizable boom in the 1990s, but today it's a
groundswell," said April Martin, author of The Lesbian and
Gay Parenting Handbook. "There is a seismic shift in the
number of gays and lesbians who feel parenting is a real
option."
No
one knows how many gays are parents, but nearly 168,000
same-sex couples throughout the nation reported children at
home during the 2000 census. That's more than a ninefold
increase over the 1990 census. In Florida, where nearly
10,000 same-sex couples reported children at home in 2000,
the numbers could escalate if a federal court strikes down
the state law forbidding gays from adopting children. A
ruling is expected soon.
Living in the suburban Miami neighborhood of Kendall,
Stephanie Woolley and Mary Larrea already typify the trend.
Accepted by their families and friends, Woolley, 30, a
teacher, and Larrea, 43, a juvenile-court administrator,
entered adulthood comfortable with their sexuality. When
they met six years ago, they fell in love and settled down,
buying a house and pledging to build a life together. Their
triplets, born last year with an anonymous donor's sperm,
made their family whole.
"When I was young, I didn't know whether to fake it so I
could have kids or live the life I wanted," said Woolley,
now a stay-at-home mom. "When I realized having children and
being gay weren't mutually exclusive, a huge burden lifted."
Gays
and lesbians have always had children, but their offspring
were usually products of marriages in which dad or mom hid
or denied his or her sexual orientation. When divorce
splintered the family, the secret spilled out.
Gays
still have children in marriage, but more are starting
families of their own, with partners or as single parents.
Like the Bartons, who are raising an Ohio relative's twins,
many adopt. Even in Florida, they find ways around the state
ban, either by going out of state, overseas or, in some
cases, lying.
But
untold numbers are following the Woolley-Larrea path and
bearing children with the same reproductive medical
technology that infertile straight couples use: sperm or egg
donation, in vitro fertilization and surrogacy.
As a
result, same-sex couples are creating some interesting
family trees, refocusing the fight for gay rights and
redefining the concept of family in much the way divorce,
stepparents and half-siblings have.
In
South Florida, three male couples and one single gay man
have become fathers with the help of women _ in one case, a
partner's sister _ who served as surrogate mothers. Among
them, the men have nine children, including a set of
triplets and two sets of twins. Multiple births are common
because, to ensure viability, surrogates usually carry more
than one embryo.
In
Central Florida, 70 families have joined the Orlando Gay
Parents Group since its founding last year. Among them, they
have nearly 100 children, the majority younger than 5. Most
of the parents are lesbian couples. Many conceived by
artificial insemination using sperm banks and anonymous
donors. Several turned to their partner's brother to help
bring their children into the world.
"We're not dykes on bikes or men in drag," said Lisa Gray,
42, a former tax auditor who founded the group so daughter
Cori could meet other families like hers. "We go to story
time at the library and worry about all the same food
groups."
Still, many opponents condemn two-mom or two-dad families as
immoral and unethical. They believe homosexuality and
parenting are inherently incompatible, placing children of
gay parents at great risk.
"It's not the technology that's the problem. It's the
household," said Peter Sprigg, director of
marriage-and-family studies at the Family Research Council,
an organization dedicated to preserving the traditional
family. "Homosexual activists like to say love makes a
family, but children need a mother and father. Each
contributes an understanding of what it means to be a man
and a woman, a husband and wife. Without those role models,
children suffer."
Opponents also discredit decades of research showing that
children with gay parents are not markedly different or
disadvantaged. They call the studies flawed and biased by a
pro-gay agenda.
"There is no study in existence that uses randomly selected
subjects on a broad enough basis to have any statistical
validity," said Mathew Staver, president of the Liberty
Counsel, a legal organization that also defends the
traditional family.
He
and Sprigg also cite a litany of studies showing that, by
its very nature, the "homosexual lifestyle" increases the
chances children will be exposed to domestic violence,
substance abuse, mental illness, disease and promiscuity.
The
Bartons, both 42, are amused by the assumptions about their
lifestyle. Craig, an account sales manager and Don, an
accountant who stays home with the twins, have been partners
for 12 years. They own a house together and share the same
last name_Don legally changed his to Craig's.
And
though they have different stars in their family
constellation, their lives are defined by the mundane:
mentoring at the twins' elementary. Fixing dinner. Riding
bikes. Swimming in the pool. Going to church. Watching Toy
Story 2 for the umpteenth time.
"Today, the majority of our friends are straight," Craig
said. "And most are parents because that's who we have the
most in common with."
Just
how many gays are choosing parenthood is a subject of
debate, but the 2000 census tracked a surge during the past
decade, particularly among gay men. In 1990, only 5 percent
of male partners living together reported children younger
than 18 in their homes, compared with 22 percent of female
couples.
By
2000, 22 percent of male couples and 34 percent of female
couples reported children at home. In all, 167,752 of nearly
600,000 same-sex partners reported children younger than 18
at home.
Though the U.S. Census Bureau discourages comparisons
between 1990 and 2000, saying the numbers were collected
differently, many gay-rights organizations and researchers
think both counts missed many gay parents. Neither survey
counted single gay parents, and many gays likely remain
reluctant to identify themselves.
In
what may be one of the most comprehensive studies, Witeck-Combs
Communications, a firm that helps corporations market to the
gay community, estimates that 3 million children are living
in 2 million gay households in America today.
While medical advances play a role, social scientists and
gay activists attribute the boom to growing acceptance of
homosexuality, fueled by social and legal changes. During
the summer, for example, the U.S. Supreme Court reversed a
17-year-old decision and decriminalized sexual intimacy
between consenting same-sex adults.
Now,
that watershed ruling is galvanizing the fight for legal
recognition of same-sex unions. It's also fueling hope that
the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals will strike down Florida's
ban on gay adoptions.
Yet,
just 30 years ago, when the American Psychiatric Association
deleted homosexuality from its roster of mental disorders,
gay people were treated as outcasts. Many resigned
themselves to lives of isolation and despair. They didn't
dare have children, and, if they did, judges were apt to
take them away.
"If
you recognized that you were gay, you had to accept that put
you in outlaw status," said Martin, a New York psychologist
who has two children with her life partner. "You were shut
out of so many of the joys and benefits of society, and
making a family was one of them."
But
as gay people who had children in wedlock fought for custody
when their marriages dissolved, attitudes and laws began to
change.
"In
the late '70s and early '80s, courts started saying, `If
you're the better parent, that's the end of the inquiry,' "
said Matt Coles, director of the Lesbian & Gay Rights
Project at the American Civil Liberties Union. "In my
generation, having kids was off the table. For gays growing
up today, it's a decision."
Still, for many gay parents, the joys of parenthood are
tempered by fear, especially in states such as Florida.
Almost half the states have laws or courts that permit
second-parent adoptions, allowing the non-biological or
non-adoptive parent in same-sex partnerships to adopt
children for whom both parties share responsibility.
But
Florida doesn't recognize second-parent adoptions, leaving
parents such as Don Barton to devise "escape plans" in case
misfortune strikes. Because Craig Barton adopted his
relative's twins alone, Don has no legal relationship to the
girls who call him Daddy. To enroll them in kindergarten or
take them to the emergency room, he has Craig's power of
attorney.
"I'm
the stay-at-home parent, but if Craig dies, I'm nobody,"
said Don, who keeps his "escape plan" secret even from his
own family. "What I'd like to do is take my kids before the
Florida Legislature so they can say, `I recognize my
parents. Why can't you?' "
Lisa
and Corina Gray hope they've resolved their parental
quandary by asking Corina's brother to donate sperm for the
baby girl Lisa conceived through artificial insemination.
The Grays _ Lisa also changed her last name to her partner's
_ wanted their daughter to know her father, and he's
involved in the 3-year-old's life. Though Cori calls him
Daddy, he fulfills the role of uncle.
But
the arrangement has another benefit. Should Lisa become
incapacitated or should she and Corina split up, Corina's
brother could exert his parental rights, protecting his
sister's relationship with the little girl who calls her
Mommy.
"Can
you imagine how Corina would feel if I died in a car
accident and my parents stepped in and took our child?" Lisa
said. "My parents wouldn't do that, but others would."
Gays
also encounter obstacles bearing children. Adoption,
or in
vitro fertilization can be prohibitively expensive. Finding
physicians or fertility clinics willing to help can be just
as daunting.
Gathered for playtime at Cypress Grove Park in Florida
recently, members of Orlando's gay-parents group recounted
the humiliation of calling local doctors for
artificial-insemination consultations. One woman said she
was told to call back when she had a husband. Another said
she was told she needed a psychological exam. Both found
help elsewhere.
The
journey that brought twin girls into Jerome Baker's life
cost $85,000 and spanned five years, much of it spent on the
telephone, hunting clinics and surrogates in 15 states. A
longtime volunteer with Greater Miami's Big Brothers Big
Sisters program, Baker, 37, yearned to adopt. The former
Miami ad executive knew fellow gays who had by hiding the
truth, but he didn't want to build his family on a lie. So
he turned to .
He
eventually found a Colorado agency that matched him with a
Texas woman who believed in sharing the gift of children.
With donor eggs and Baker's sperm, Virginia Phillips gave
birth to Baker's daughters, Jasmine and Jolie, two years
ago.
Today, like many gay parents, Baker, who recently moved near
Washington, D.C., encounters another problem gay families
face every day: When and to whom to come out.
It
is, after all, impossible for Baker's family or the Bartons
or the Woolley-Larreas to conceal their differences. Babies
always elicit attention, but when they're twins or triplets,
they're a major attraction. So are their same-sex parents.
Waitresses, cashiers, even complete strangers innocently
ask: "So, who's the daddy?" "Where's mommy tonight?"
"I
have to make a judgment call on every one," Baker said. "Is
it OK to tell?"
At
age 5, the Barton twins have few qualms answering.
"I
don't have a mom. I've got grandmas," Marilyn recently told
a classmate. Their fathers are just as frank. They're not
ashamed of who they are, or their family.
The
Bartons also are encouraged by their experience. When they
moved into the Conway Estates neighborhood in Orlando three
weeks before the twins were born, they didn't know a soul.
Then they brought their newborns home, and neighbors
welcomed them with baby presents.
Today, the twins often play with neighbor Lisa's 5-year-old
son. Sometimes, he'll tell his mom how sad it is that
Madilyn and Marilyn don't have a mommy, but his mother has
an explanation.
"I
tell him how lucky they are to have two daddies who love
them so much," Lisa said. "We don't act like Craig and Don
and Madilyn and Marilyn are different. They're not. They go
to the grocery. They play on weekends. Really, they're just
like us."
Yet,
in almost the same breath, Lisa asks that her last name be
withheld. Although she has no reservations about leaving her
children in the Bartons' care, she's afraid "closed-minded
people" who disapprove might harm her own family.
Across the street, Don Barton takes a break from pushing
Madilyn in the backyard swing and heads to the kitchen to
reheat a medley of leftovers for dinner. Calling the twins
to set the table, he expresses hope that, as more people
meet families like his, the less their differences will
matter.
"You
know what all this has turned us into?" he said, sweeping
his arms in a circle. "The traditional family."
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