The Courage Project

Stories of courage in parenthood, a series brought to you from The Motherhood Project

Lacey Owen is a wife and mother of three. Back in 2019 Lacey began her surrogacy journey long before she was pregnant. It began with an innocent messenger chat of niceties into offering to carry her close gay friend’s child. This was not a decision made lightly and came with its own challenges along the way.

Read Lacey’s courageous story below.

As a little girl my only wish was to be a Mum.

I didn’t have any particular career aspirations; ironically that would come much later. All I wanted was a happy marriage and a few little people to call my own. When I found out I was expecting our first child on Christmas Day 2011, my entire world finally made sense. Shoving a barely dry pregnancy test in my husbands’ face well before the birds had started chirping, will forever be one of my favourite moments. Just three weeks later, a few days shy of seeing our bubba on the first ultrasound, I started bleeding heavily. As I stood in the shower losing our child, Nick climbed in fully clothed to hold me in an attempt to settle the uncontrollable shaking. Deep ugly soulful cries rippled through my body. Salty tears and rich blood resembling our hopes and dreams, simply washing away down a plughole. In that moment I silently swore that if I was ever given the opportunity to become a Mum, I would pay it forward in the hopes of preventing someone else experiencing this despair.

“Salty tears and rich blood resembling our hopes and dreams, simply washing away down a plughole.
In that moment I silently swore that if I was ever given the opportunity to become a Mum, I would pay it forward in the hopes of preventing someone else experiencing this despair.

”

2013 saw the arrival of our first child. By 2018 we had had a further two children completing our family. Over the years my husband and I would often discuss me carrying for someone else however it wasn’t something I went out of my way to pursue. I was in good health, loved being pregnant and had had three incredibly empowering births. I felt so incredibly grateful to have had my own dreams realised and figured if I could help someone else, then why not?

I truly believe serendipity played a huge role in pairing me with my intended parents. Arrun had been my flatmate 10 years earlier and despite us only living together for three months, a firm friendship formed, both meeting our respective husbands during this time. Over the years we kept in touch sporadically with the occasional message of 11:11, a time that reminded us of each other. Thanks to face book I would follow their overseas travels as they checked in on our growing family.

In 2019, an innocent messenger chat of niceties ventured into whether they were going to have children, to which he explained they were just starting to look into surrogacy options. I joked to my husband that I should carry their child to which he replied, ‘well you’ve always said you wanted to, and they’d be perfect’. I must admit I did pause momentarily before hitting send with my offer. It wasn’t a decision made lightly, and I was mindful of protecting their hearts, not coming across as too flippant. I don’t want to speak to their story as it’s simply not mine to tell, but as gay males there are barriers to starting a family. The most obvious being a female body; something I had and was more than willing to utilise in order for my friends to realise their own parenting desire.

The months that followed entailed hours of research, appointments, and testing for all involved. Countless blood samples, the egg collection (from a selfless friend of the guys), lawyer visits and numerous counselling sessions including my husband, the egg donor, her partner, as well as joint therapy. There were many other aspects the intended parents had to navigate but from a surrogate perspective it was a matter of ticking off each hurdle, hoping to qualify and make it through to the next challenge. Once our application was compiled it was placed before ECART for review. This medical board takes everything into consideration before determining whether or not your party can proceed with IVF. It was an agonising two week wait before being given the green light. Shit was about to get real!

“ That phone call to break the news to the guys was the lowest point in our entire journey.
I felt guilty crying tears, grieving a loss that technically wasn’t my own and experiencing the physical trauma that comes with a miscarriage...”

In total it took three rounds of IVF to become successful. The first embryo didn’t take leaving me incredibly shocked and in hindsight how naïve was I to think it would work first go?! I knew I’d done my best but felt so terrible for the guys. The second transfer I fell pregnant and despite great HCG numbers, miscarried at 5 weeks gestation. Elation to complete and utter devastation in the space of a week. Driving home alone from the ER after having the loss confirmed, was heart breaking. That phone call to break the news to the guys was the lowest point in our entire journey. I felt guilty crying tears, grieving a loss that technically wasn’t my own and experiencing the physical trauma that comes with a miscarriage, only to be met with the most caring and compassionate men who only wanted to ensure I was okay.

Lacey pregnant, on their third IVF attempt.

With December 2020 upon us, we took a couple of months break to regroup and recover. At the beginning of the journey, I told my husband I’d give it three attempts, but if I’m being honest, I really didn’t want to try again. I was scared of losing another of their embryo’s, felt guilty they were wasting their money when my body wasn’t responding to what it was meant to do, and over being ruled by an alarm three times a day to remind me to take my IVF medications. In the back of my mind however I knew how hard it would be for them to find another surrogate and start the entire process over again. Everything was riding on this next round.

Due to a level three lockdown, I had to attend the fertility appointment alone. As I lay on the bed, legs up in the air, my bladder threatening to burst, a tiny little embryo was placed inside my uterus. Within two hours I was cramping and within 48 hours my breasts were killing me. I knew this time was successful. Being the ever-impatient woman, I took a home pregnancy test on day four post transfer. This immediately showed positive however it was my little secret for a few days.

“Your life has begun deep within me. Two pink lines informing me of your growing presence. Soon I’ll deliver the news of your existence to your dad’s. Altering their world in more ways than they know possible right now. Turning men into fathers. News that will change us all forever more. Turning friends into family. I make this promise to you, to your loving Dads, and to your wonderful extended families. To keep you safe and warm within me allowing you the chance to grow big and strong. To carry you with love and care for you as if you are my very own. To display strength and determination until it’s time to grace us with your presence earthside. But for these few moments, I will keep you.
The only time from here on out where it’ll be just you and I. And forever more I will share in you. Even though you were never really mine at all.”

— An excerpt from Lacey's journal

When the blood test confirmation came through, it was met with cautious optimism. We were all elated but having been burnt before the nerves definitely overshadowed everything else. It was an anxious wait until the first ultrasound then seeing the tiny flickering heartbeat on the screen had us all crying like babies. Surprisingly it was my husband who took great delight in informing everyone that his wife was pregnant with another man’s baby, then leaving them to ruminate with no further explanation!

As the weeks ticked by, we were met with several spontaneous bleeds diagnosed as ‘subchorionic hematomas’, common in IVF pregnancies but terrifying none the less. We would breathe a sigh of relief only to be hit with another scare ultimately earning bubba the nickname of ‘toad’.

Despite restrictions we were able to all be together for the anatomy scan. A wee boy was to join their family however the guys were oblivious, and I was able to keep this secret until the birth.

Six weeks before my due date, the region I live in went into a surprise lockdown three weeks before the guys were due to arrive. Within 24 hours they packed their belongings and boarded a flight to me. My family rallied around providing a home, a vehicle and support as we awaited bubbas arrival. Although incredibly stressful at the time, in hindsight it was the most magical bonus few weeks of quality time spent together. We were able to squeeze in a maternity shoot and my own children were better able to grasp the situation having bonded with them. They knew and loved who ‘toad’ was going home with.

“Meanwhile the guys were waiting in the carpark.
Finally, contractions began, and we were given the okay to be together. They entered the hospital foyer as the ceiling clock shone 11.11am. ”

At 39+1 my waters broke after excusing myself from the dinner table. Arrun, Jake, and Mum began cleaning up as I showered, all of us wanting to squeal with excitement but needing to refrain until my children were in bed. We settled in to watch ‘Cruella’ on Disney although I don’t think any of us paid much attention. Due to my history of fast births, the guys slept on my couches in anticipation of us having to rush off in the night. As luck would have it, I woke refreshed managing to get a full night’s sleep with no contractions. By 9am and with waters still leaking but no action, my midwife took me into the delivery suite to check things out. Due to hospital lockdown restrictions the guys couldn’t join us until I was considered in established labour. I was fairly anxious with not being able to have my husband (he was away for a work course which couldn’t be postponed) or mum by my side however my midwife is a family friend and had delivered all of my own children, so I knew I was in incredibly good hands. She broke my waters further at 10.15am. I was 4cm dilated so paced back and forth in the hopes contractions would begin. Meanwhile the guys were waiting in the carpark. Finally, contractions began, and we were given the okay to be together. They entered the hospital foyer as the ceiling clock shone 11.11am.

Lacey just after her waters broke. (39+1 weeks)

With Ed Sheeran serenading, I paced back and forth, my contributions to the conversations becoming less and less as I withdrew into myself. Taking note of my queues, Anne began to fill the pool at 1pm. By 1.45pm things were moving along quickly so into the water I went. I felt safe and calm in my own little space and was so quiet that I really don’t think the guys comprehended how close we were to the finish line at this point. They sat behind and to the side of me outside of the pool, holding each other’s hands, speaking words of encouragement. I gently breathed bubba’s head out much to the guys disbelief. In between his head and body being born there was a quite a wait! I vividly remember looking up at them and saying, ‘You’re about to be dad’s’.

“I gently breathed bubba’s head out much to the guys disbelief.
In between his head and body being born there was a quite a wait!
I vividly remember looking up at them and saying, ‘You’re about to be dad’s’. ”

With a few more pushes and one giant roar he was born at 2.30pm. I guided him through the waters to my chest as his dads dissolved in tears of happiness. All I kept repeating was ‘I did it!’ 9.1lbs of deliciousness. It was the most perfect birth and I’m so thrilled we were able to capture it on video. Every time I watch it, it leaves me covered in goosebumps.

I held him close for about ten minutes, until the umbilical cord had stopped pulsing. Arrun then cut it and with the help of Anne passed bubba to Jake where they enjoyed skin to skin cuddles. Once I birthed the placenta and was settled on the bed, Arrun took photos and facetimed their families to tell them the good news. It was such a special time to be a part of. I was mindful this would be the last chance I would ever have a labour experience so took full advantage of lying back, soaking it all in and ingraining it to memory.

Moments after Niko was born in the birthing pool.

“I had given birth, was producing milk, and had no child.
My heart knew he was okay, knew he was safe, knew he was loved, but my head and hormones were screaming at me to be holding and feeding a child.

I guess looking back now, it was intense grief.”

After a few hours, the new formed family of three were transferred to the post-natal ward. I returned home to my excited kids, a sparkling house (thanks Mum!), my own shower and glorious bed, but not before a quick dinner stop of well-deserved KFC, even if I did have to share it with my gannet children. Getting a full night’s sleep was AMAZING and for the first 24 hours after birth, I was on the most incredible high. Oxytocin was flowing, my friends were over the moon, and I felt like superwoman. The guys had moved into a local air bnb by this stage, but we spent every day of the following week together, two families now beautifully woven together as one. My husband even made it back home to celebrate with us all which was the icing on the cake for me to have him witness the final outcome of our efforts in person. Saying goodbye at the airport was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. By then the hormones had well and truly kicked in and the tears didn’t stop flowing for hours after they’d departed. Our journey of 26 months done and dusted just like that.

Surrogacy, and IVF in general, are often described as a rollercoaster ride of ups and downs. Now that I’ve lived it, I can’t express how true that statement is. It worries me to be so brutally honest about my post-partum journey for fear I could potentially put another woman off being a surrogate. However, this is the kind of information I sought when researching to make my own decision so feel it’s also very important to display transparency. Stories I followed online made it out to be all rainbows and lollipops once it is all said and done, but in my personal experience, though not all bad, it has been far from smooth sailing.

You discuss this in counselling prior to receiving approval to commence treatment, but nothing can fully prepare you. I guess that’s part of the reason why such a robust and tedious process is in place; to ensure you have a support system among many other things.

Physically I’ve been amazing thanks to an uncomplicated vaginal birth however because of this I’ve also done too much at times and had to remind myself that I do need to rest. Yes, my body looks different and yes, I have wobbly bits and am carrying extra weight but that hasn’t stopped me enjoying a summer in the sun with my kids.

“To put it bluntly: a total mindfuck.

My husband would hold me tight as I soaked our pillows night after night.
My throat burned for weeks attempting to swallow a lump, to supress any emotion that resembled sadness. ”

Mentally and emotionally, it’s been fairly rough. I knew it would be to a certain extent and felt I had prepared myself sufficiently, but those expectations were blown out of the water. I’m loathed to compare my postpartum period to losing a baby to death, but that’s exactly how it felt. I had given birth, was producing milk, and had no child. My heart knew he was okay, knew he was safe, knew he was loved, but my head and hormones were screaming at me to be holding and feeding a child.

I guess looking back now, it was intense grief.

It’s hard to explain. I didn’t want or miss Niko specifically. From the second I placed him on my chest for his dads’ to marvel at their son, that’s exactly what he was. THEIRS. I just desperately wanted to be holding a little baby of my own and this was very unexpected as we had already decided our family was complete. I was sad that my new-born days were over, resentful of my husband for having had a vasectomy, angry that I felt this way when it couldn’t be changed and stupid for grieving a child that was alive and well and who was never mine in the first place, especially when I was fortunate enough to have three of my own. To put it bluntly: a total mindfuck.

My husband would hold me tight as I soaked our pillows night after night. My throat burned for weeks attempting to swallow a lump, to supress any emotion that resembled sadness. Tears would spill over at the simple question ‘how are you?’ I hate to think how many well intended unsuspecting people I bawled to in the weeks that followed. Songs on the radio would set me off. Babies crying in the supermarket would cause my breasts to leak despite taking medication to supress lactation. His birth certificate turning up in the post or the medical centre ringing wanting register him as a new patient. All reminders of something I no longer had despite never really having had it in the first place.

Eventually I learnt to roll with it. Tears were better out than in and I’d just had a baby, I needed to cut myself some slack! I guess looking back I was nervous that people would think I wanted Niko for myself when that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Now that we’re three months down the track I’m feeling much more like myself. Hormones are settling, and life has returned to our crazy and chaotic normal, the very best distraction. I have been so fortunate to have had the most amazing support from my own family as well as the guys who constantly check in sending photos and videos. I’ll be forever grateful to them for taking such great care of me before, during and after, especially considering they were learning to adjust to life with a new-born too! My next focus is continuing on in my studies to become a midwife.

“As Niko grows, he will hear the story of how he came to be. How he was wanted long before he existed. How his dad’s fought hard to have the same rights and experiences as everyone else...”

The most common question I get now is ‘would you do it again?’, and the answer is ‘YES in a heartbeat’.

I don’t think I’ve quite grasped the enormity of what we’ve achieved. Maybe I’ll never appreciate just how big a deal it is because for me, motherhood was always a possibility? For them I’ve made the seemingly impossible a reality. I feel incredibly honoured that my friends trusted in my body, ability, and judgements to carry and birth their precious cargo. Now I have the pleasure of witnessing their family flourish knowing I played such a crucial role.

As Niko grows, he will hear the story of how he came to be. How he was wanted long before he existed. How his dad’s fought hard to have the same rights and experiences as everyone else and how many amazing people came together in a collaborative effort of love to make a dream come true. It really did take a village and my role of ‘Aunty Lace’ is one I will forever carry out with pride.

To follow Lacey’s journey and to read more of her beautiful writing visit: https://www.instagram.com/laced_with_love_blog/