Homebirthing a boy not mine
10 November 15
Today marks the first anniversary of one of my greatest achievements — altruistically birthing a boy not mine. I met a couple in June 2013, we very quickly became best friends, and they finally got to greet their son on 10 November 2014.
The relationship
I’m Australian by birth, Sæþór (pronounced “Sy-thor”, it’s the legal name Ben selected when he took Icelandic citizenship) is American by birth, and Ágúst (say “ow-GOOST”) is Icelandic. They married in 2009, settled in Iceland and fostered children before deciding they wanted their own biological offspring. Early on, I started referring to Sæþór and Ágúst as “the boys”, even though they’re only four years younger than me. It’s a term of endearment and familiarity, not condescension.
Although my arrangement with the boys looks very much like surrogacy, it’s actually a loving, selfless relationship which produced a child — much like a conventional romance. We met online on a surrogate/parents-matching site but quickly discovered that we were already excellent friends who just hadn’t previously met. We commenced a love-affair that has endured past the birth and will likely last our lifetimes.
The only way I wanted to birth a child for someone else was if I could do it in the most deliberately loveliest way I could imagine — and it was important to me that this would particularly be without any consideration of financial gain. I knew I wanted to demonstrate true altruism in this exchange, so I asked for nothing and accepted no money or gifts for the travel, pregnancy and birth.
I used my savings to fund all our travel expenses to and from Europe, and I contributed to the household during the times we lived together. In return, the boys covered the medical costs in Iceland, hosted us in their guesthouse for seven weeks and lent us their vehicles so we could see a bit more of the island. They also generously replaced my phone when its battery was dying — thank you, it’s still working well!
The elephant in the room
Yes, I had a son — Elijah Rainbow. Yes, he died in unexpected circumstances. Yes, his loss was horrible and my ongoing grief has been substantial. The courts have found that in a severe psychosis and delusional episode influenced by chemical substances, my then-husband fell off a bridge while holding Elijah and released him to drown in the water.
Yes, I birthed a boy for Ágúst and Sæþór. Yes, we used my egg to conceive the baby. No, he is not my son. He has never been my son — not prior to conception, not while growing in the womb, and not out of it.
Birthing a boy for his fathers in Iceland is not comparable to losing Elijah — not for me, and not for my daughters. Is that clear?
A decision to homebirth
I previously birthed my four daughters in Australian hospitals. The first was via vacuum-extraction, two and three came naturally with epidural pain-relief, and the fourth arrived with other medical pain-relief. I also triumphantly freebirthed my son Elijah during a communal camping festival in the Australian bush, and the contrast was great for me in terms of feeling empowered, supported and safe despite our distance from medical facilities.
As I was the only one out of our trio who had experience with birth, the boys asked me many questions about pregnancy and birth and listened to my ideas. For birthing this baby, my preference after an uneventful and healthy pregnancy was to attempt a homebirth. After research, discussion and thought, Sæþór and Ágúst fully supported this idea.
As well as feeling like it was a more comfortable setting for such an intense experience, I was attracted to homebirth because then I knew my children could participate in the birthing experience — if they chose to in the moment it was happening. In order to feel safe during birthing, I needed to know that my girls were happy and safe. Because of our lifestyle and relationship, that means that I wanted them to feel free to be near me instead of sequestered within the confines of a hospital waiting room.
Also, because my relationship with the boys was irregular, I thought a homebirth would protect us from outsiders who wouldn’t necessarily understand that although the baby was coming out of my body, it wasn’t mine. The boys would also need loving support as they learned about caring for their newborn, and a homebirth midwife could provide that. I’m also glad that I could communicate clearly to my care-giver in English, which may not have been the case in an Icelandic hospital.
I never saw a child being born until I was pushing it out between my legs, and I’ve only witnessed one other person’s birth — my niece’s in 2007. In homebirthing, I hoped to introduce a child to his community, and so we invited all of Ágúst’s family to come. Sæþór invited his best friend Sara Leifsdóttir to take pictures, and I extended the invitation to Sara’s 17yo daughter Hekla. I am convinced that young women will be more empowered in making birth choices for themselves if they have the opportunity to witness several births before they experience it themselves, and I hope that I made a positive impression in Hekla’s and Ágúst’s sister’s understanding of birth.
With the number of people we were inviting, homebirth was the only option that could include everyone. Sixteen people witnessed Daníel Valur’s arrival, and that was only possible because we didn’t birth in a hospital.
Homebirth was a safe option for us given my past history of uncomplicated labours, the current healthy pregnancy, our midwife’s expertise and our location’s close proximity to a Reykjavík hospital in case further medical attention was necessary.
The birth-plan we agreed upon was to birth naturally — with a birthing pool as an option. My daughters were free to come and go — they knew what to expect and felt comfortable in the house and with the people who would witness the birth. Immediately after delivering, I did ask the midwife to administer oxytocin in an injection so that I would deliver the placenta quickly. My past natural-birthing experience had taught me that it could take up to an hour and a half to birth the placenta, and that wasn’t really the outcome I wanted!
Our “mother of light”
Ljósmóðir (“Lyoss-mothr” where the th is a hard sound like in “then”) is the Icelandic word for midwife, literally “light-mother”. She who wears this label is the one who assists new beings in their journey from the darkness of the womb into the light of the world. In ancient Rome, the goddess of childbirth was named Lucina, whose name is derived from lux, meaning light.
Soon after agreeing to have a child together, we started contacting people to seek recommendations for a ljósmóðir, and the boys arranged that we meet Kristbjörg Magnúsdóttir when I first flew by myself to Iceland in September 2013. Kristbjörg was already championing homebirths, as fewer than four percent of births in Iceland happen at home — a complete reversal to the norm one hundred years ago.
We introduced ourselves to Kristbjörg and asked if she could think about whether she would feel comfortable to assist at the birth. After some time during which she considered everything, she agreed, and once we fell pregnant, I sent copies of my medical check-ups here in Australia to her so she could see that the pregnancy was proceeding healthily.
The documentary filmmaker
Through Kristbjörg, we learned of a documentary-maker who was interested in filming home-birthing stories. The boys decided that this was something they were willing to share, and invited Dögg Mósesdóttir to come and meet us. Although Dögg followed her other subjects throughout their pregnancy, she met us only a couple of days before the birth.
Some of the photos shown in this post are screenshots taken from Dögg’s footage, and I’m thankful that she generously granted permission for this. I’m looking forward to seeing more of her video when that’s released, as we’ve only seen the trailer for Home Again? in which we feature briefly — note that the Icelandic is not yet sub-titled in English. After working on the film for three years, Dögg has finally raised enough funds to finish the documentary and is hoping for a 2016 release-date.
Trailer for Home Again? A documentary by Dögg Mósesdóttir.
The labour and birth
November in Iceland is dark and cold — the sun rises around 10am and sets soon after 3pm. The girls and I were sleeping together in the guesthouse when I woke to pains at 5:30. I knew this was it. It’s amazing how real the Braxton-Hicks can seem until the real labour pains start.
I started using my phone to take a screenshot every time a contraction came. I thought it would be handy if I had to calculate exactly how far apart they were. I got up and showered, careful not to disturb the girls. I knew today would be an exciting day for everyone, and so they would benefit from a full night’s sleep.
Last night, Ágúst and I had joked about his preference for me to birth today. He had enjoyed spending the weekend at home with all of us and wasn’t looking forward to returning to work on Monday. Since we had been living alongside the boys for four weeks, I knew Ágúst’s routine and waited until I knew his alarm had sounded and he would be getting ready for work. “Don’t go to work today,” I texted him. “I’ve got a better job offer for you.”
When I entered the house a little while later, I was surprised to see Sæþór sitting in the kitchen, knitting; his work routine meant he usually slept in.
“What are you doing up?” I asked.
“I heard that we’re going to have a baby today,” he responded with a big smile. Then he returned to his furious knitting — fulfilling a request of mine for leg-warmers made with Icelandic wool. It was our standing joke that if he didn’t finish those legwarmers, he wouldn’t get a baby. (I have ‘em now!)
We sat in the kitchen talking for most of the day, with a playlist of music by Darpan creating a peaceful ambience. We had hired the TENS machine from the physiotherapy department at the local hospital. I chatted on the phone with a friend in Australia while another sat by her computer in Croatia, ready to provide support if I wanted it.
The boys had hired a birthing pool through our midwife Kristbjörg and had previously practiced assembling it. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED! During our dry run, we discovered we needed an extra part that wasn’t supplied with the kit. It’s much better to run to the hardware store before there’s a woman labouring in the house!
When Kristbjörg arrived at 4pm, we went to a private room upstairs so she could examine me. Although the boys and I had talked very frankly about every part of the conception, pregnancy and childbirth, they still hadn’t been introduced to my lady-bits. While I was comfortable with public nudity, the boys’ comfort was important to me, so I chose to remain modestly dressed throughout the birthing.
With Kristbjörg, I explained that while the contractions were consistent and strong, they weren’t increasing very quickly. I had been experiencing contractions for over ten hours, but I didn’t feel much closer to birthing. She assessed that I was 5 cm dilated, and the examination triggered a bittersweet and dramatic increase in contractions, which is what I had desired.
At this time, Kristbjörg encouraged me to release the pent-up emotion I was feeling inside. I sobbed a little, allowing myself to once again feel the sorrow of losing my son and husband, and I released that and all the stresses of the journey that brought us to Iceland. I cried a bit more as I felt sorry for myself for getting into such a painful predicament which I suspected would never end.
Then I took a deep breath. I looked at Kristbjörg and she smiled at me. “You can push when you’re ready,” she offered. That was it. I had an out — I waited for the next contraction, then I pushed.
Recovery
After the shot of oxytocin, I quickly birthed the placenta and exited the pool as soon as I could, leaving the new little family still in their cuddle huddle. My work was done, and it felt like a luxury to make my way to my own quarters where I could shower and lay down, massaging my jelly belly to help the uterus contract.
Soon, Kristbjörg came to check on me, and other visitors too — Ágúst and Sæþór each separately, friends and family members to congratulate me and thank me. I immediately started pumping colostrum for Daníel Valur, but I knew that I had the easy job — I was free to rest, recover and relax. Next door, the boys had the hard job — getting to know a newborn!
We kept the placenta, dried it and encapsulated it (stand by for details in a future post). I started consuming them on Day 2, and I believe it was because of these natural hormonal supplements that my mood didn’t drop at all — not even for the ubiquitous Baby Blues when my milk came in. I stayed on the placenta pills for several months and didn’t experience any of the post-natal depression that had briefly visited me in the past.
The after-birth pains were the most severe ones that I had ever encountered, but they were more tolerable because I had the luxury of only looking after myself. I was able to sleep well, rest when I wanted, get up if I felt like it, and toilet freely — all things that are impossible when caring for a newborn!
During the next few weeks, I could gauge the boys’ previous night-wakings by the bags under their eyes the next morning. As I healed and regained my energy quickly, I felt slightly smug that I had dodged that bullet and was resting so well, but at the same time I knew that they were so happy to finally have Daníel Valur in their lives.
In summary
Wow! What an experience! It’s been a euphoric rush to return to the events of a year ago — remember all that happened, edit the photos, check my notes, read over Sæþór’s account of the birth — which sounds a lot different to mine! ;) and write the story down. I am so thankful that I was given the opportunity to contribute unselfishly in this meaningful way, and I’m even more grateful that I share such a special and ongoing friendship with Ágúst and Sæþór and can witness the growth of their son.
My greatest personal achievement is forgiving the man who killed my son. My second greatest achievement is birthing Daníel Valur for his two dads. With this pregnancy and birth, I did something truly lovely, loving and selfless. It kinda makes me wish I was young and fertile again so that I could help other people out, but this birthing chapter has closed permanently for me, I’m glad to say — no more babies from this body! Six is exactly enough.
Whether you read this article because you’re interested in homebirthing, surrogacy, gay parenting or simply like looking into the lives of other families, I hope you can see the joy and love that unpinned this entire experience. When Dögg’s documentary is released, I’ll share the link to it, but otherwise I won’t write more about Daníel Valur. His is not my story to tell, but Ágúst’s and Sæþór’s.
However, I’ve been considering writing a book with a detailed account of this relational surrogacy experience. If you’d like to hear the full story, please leave me some encouragement with a comment below.
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1 · Jen · 10 November 2015, 10:55
I have followed your journey for years and still have the lovely bumper sticker. You are amazing. Your girls are lucky to have you as a Mama and “your boys” are lucky to have found the perfect person to bring them their son. I think of Elijah often. I gave birth to my first son one day after you delivered Daniel for your boys. Tomorrow we celebrate birthday number one. Please continue to share.
2 · Lisa Wood · 10 November 2015, 11:11
I admire your strength Lauren. I admire how you keep going when life throws things that are so horrible your way. I have meet you and your girls, and I think of you often.
I am not sure if I could keep on giving after the loss you have experienced, and to be honest when I first found out you were going to be a surrogate for a baby boy I was concerned with how you would feel, and how your girls would feel.
But I knew that you had reached deep within and researched why you were giving another family a sweet baby boy.
Your strength, your love and your heart amazes me. You have had to cope with far more then any Mama has had to cope with, you get attacked online by those that have no idea of who you are, and yet you still share your life from the Heart. Those that do attack you say things that really reflect on their own personality and life, not what is going on within yours.
Sweet Daniel has the most amazing upbringing ever – he has two dads and another family down under who care about him – and that to me is the best life experiences any child could ask for.
I hope that in time your life is full of love and true happiness every single day, and that you find your true love who brings you more happiness then ever.
I had hoped that you had another baby, not to replace your sweet baby boy, but to bring more love to your life. But you have said that 6 babies is the perfect number for your family and I can understand that.
Sending you so much healing love. Your so very strong xxxx
3 · Michelle Currie · 10 November 2015, 11:11
Thanks for sharing this story. I respect your vulnerability in this and am amazed, encouraged and challenged by your capacity for forgiveness and love. Wishing u all the best in your future and look forward to reading more about this and all your other sparkling adventures.
4 · Leisa · 10 November 2015, 11:14
Thank you for sharing this. Surrogacy is something I am really interested in – not for myself, but as a potential, future grandmother. One of my daughters would dearly love to have her own baby but given the structure of her body this would be difficult – not impossible, mind you, but difficult. She often talks about the possibility of surrogacy so it’s wonderful to read of your story. It brings hope.
Much love to you all.
5 · Samantha Mason · 10 November 2015, 11:14
You are a strong wonderful woman. So selfless in helping another family have a child. Thank you for sharing your journey. Much love to you, your daughters, your son who dances on the rainbows, the boys and their little boy. Such an inspiriring woman you are <3
6 · Mick · 10 November 2015, 11:17
I am so happy to see you writing again and am absolutely thrilled with your decisions. I can’t wait to hear more.
7 · Annie · 10 November 2015, 11:19
I’m so happy to read this! I will probably never have another child, so I love to read accounts from others.
8 · Melle · 10 November 2015, 11:24
Thankyou for sharing this amazing experience with us Lauren. You have a beautiful way with words, it swept me up with these beautiful emotions. On a side note I have quietly followed your blog for a few years and was very excited to see your bus driving along in Tassie the last time you were down. Hopefully if you are in Tassie again I might run into you. Lots of love to you and your family and a Happy Birthday to Daniel. Melle xx
9 · Pranee Terry · 10 November 2015, 11:26
Thank you for sharing! I can’t wait to see the documentary! You are always an inspiration! Loving intentions to you and your family!
10 · Julia Noakes · 10 November 2015, 11:27
I so admire your strength and gentleness, your gift of actions and words. Keep writing for as long as it brings you joy.
11 · Moe · 10 November 2015, 11:55
I’ve followed you for so long and I have to admit that I came to be a follower thanks to snark sites. I’ve always felt as if there were something not quite right, but not quite wrong with your walk in life, but I’ve rarely felt the urge to judge. More than anything I’ve felt a fascination with your choices and a touch of envy. We walk parallel paths that have similar intersections and though yours has veered differently than mine, I feel a close connection to the path you’ve chosen because I too could be in a similar place if I’d made choice B instead of choice C.
I had hoped that your surrogacy would be a process of healing and growth for you. It was one I’d considered myself, but because of my mental health issues I did not feel I was suitable to the task. It fills me with joy to read that this experience did seem to be one of fulfillment and joy for you, one to aid you in mending your heart and a balm to your soul.
I wish you nothing but the best and the gift you gave your “boys” is one that is a true treasure and of limitless value. My love goes to you and your beautiful children and I hope that with time you find a peace and gentleness of spirit settles in all of your hearts and minds.
12 · Gwenda · 10 November 2015, 11:56
Lauren this is a beautifully written account. It was delightful to read it and I admire you for being the maverick of the next generation of Bissetts
13 · Tim · 10 November 2015, 13:00
Beautiful! The joy of children is incredible. Thanks for sharing all the love around Daniel’s birth and his forever family.
14 · Jen Boettger Boring · 10 November 2015, 13:17
What a beautiful story! Thank you so much for sharing it with us all, you’re amazing in so many ways. Much love.
15 · Melissa · 10 November 2015, 13:53
Lauren, I am so happy to see you writing again! I hope you do write a book one day. You are an excellent writer and I would definitely love to read your book. This was such an open and honest post. I could feel the love and respect you have for “the boys” and this whole experience! I hope that you continue blogging about your sparking adventures! Love reading about you and the girls!
Ps- Looking forward to hearing more about the placenta encapsulation!
16 · Crystal Glover · 10 November 2015, 15:05
What a beautiful story!
Thank you so much for sharing Lauren!! I met you at Sophie’s a few years back in your travels. You were an inspiration that it can be done with children and no man.
And here are the most beautiful words of description about your story with these guys, birth and your painful past.
I truly honour you for sharing and am grateful to have come across this to read. Xxxxxx So much Love!
17 · · 10 November 2015, 15:09
Well done Daniel Valur, you chose well your two dads and mum ! love to you and your families
Geelong, anciennement Vevey
18 · lily boot · 10 November 2015, 15:18
Thank you so much for sharing your lovely experience Lauren. I would love to read more about your experience of surrogacy and hope you do write your book. I find your exceptional ability to love and forgive truly inspiring and know that your story will be thoughtful and enriching. I wish you much love, peace and joy at this moment in your life – and the same to your dear girls. Hope to read more of your adventures and if you are still travelling, you are so very welcome to one day visit our little farm in the Bega Valley. xxx
19 · clive klugman · 10 November 2015, 15:27
those are significant personal achievements – i am not sure many people could achieve one let alone both. i take my hat off to you – may you never lose that spirit
20 · Jess · 10 November 2015, 15:28
Wow!! I’ve been waiting to hear this story! I had so many questions (colostrum, afterpains, recovery etc) and you answered them all hahaha.
I agree that it is such a gift for girls and young women to witness as many births as possible.
Can we read Sæþór’s story of the birth somewhere?
21 · Millicent · 10 November 2015, 16:04
I really enjoyed reading your story. Your journey reflects mine in many ways and I felt very similar after birthing my surrogate baby. I am glad I had a very small part to play in your beautiful journey. Much love to you and the boys.
22 · Sanne · 10 November 2015, 18:57
absolutely brave woman!!! thanking you in the name of those boys. You are doing a good job. wow
sincerely
Sanne
23 · Jennifer · 10 November 2015, 23:09
Oh Lauren! How fun, how lovely! Thank you so much for letting us all in! I loved your basking in the responsibility-free recovery! HA!! I have often thought it was so much more fun to hold my nieces & nephews straight after birth, since I was not in recovery myself!
I’d read your book! Heck, I’d consider myself blessed to read your musings on a napkin :)
Way to go, sister! Again, you set the bar high in encouraging the rest of us to choose love. Thank you.
24 · Allison · 11 November 2015, 02:22
You are the most beautiful, heart-centered person. I am so sorry for the horrific loss of your precious son, and husband. I’m so inspired as you continue to move through the pain. To gift these two men a child of their own, especially after all you’ve been through, is an awesome choice and honor.
Blessings to you and your family, Lauren. I hope there is much ease and peace and joy for all of you.
OXO
25 · Fiona · 11 November 2015, 04:06
This made me cry…so emotionally and meaningfully beautiful! It is beautiful you were able to and so willing to help others like this. Just, truly amazing.
26 · Amanda Glen · 11 November 2015, 06:21
Thank you so much for sharing your incredible story. What a remarkable gift you have given the world. I too have followed your stories for many years and I am still inspired by the walk that you walk.
Your vulnerability, passions, loves, losses, hurts, frustrations, all add to the reality and are in lots of ways, models for others to work with themselves.
Keep up the journaling, I am sure there are 100’s of peoples lives that you are enriching.
Love n hugs.
27 · Nancy · 11 November 2015, 14:22
I am so happy to finally read your birth story! I have followed your blog for many years, through the loss of your son. My life is nothing like yours, I am a suburban American who leads a very conventional life, kids go to public school, mom and dad go to the office, yada yada…but I love to read about your perspective on life and your thoughts on parenting. I have often thought your life would make a fascinating biography. Best wishes and thank you for sharing!
28 · Jess · 11 November 2015, 14:23
Thanks so much for sharing Lauren, I’ve been a long time follower and its great to know more of the story, your story. Lovely to read! I think it would be a great book, in fact I can’t believe you haven’t written a book before! You write really well and you have so much to share, so I hope you do go ahead with it. Lovely to see you blogging again also.
My partner and I are looking to start a family next year, and the idea of post natal depression terrifies me, so I really look forward to hear more about the placenta capsules!
29 · Mary · 11 November 2015, 14:53
Beautiful!
30 · Kate · 11 November 2015, 21:50
“Birthing a boy for his fathers in Iceland is not comparable to losing Elijah — not for me, and not for my daughters. Is that clear?”
Absolutely crystal but that was obvious to me from the beginning ;) This piece is beautiful, thank you for sharing. Sending love as always xxxooo
31 · · 12 November 2015, 01:27
Merci.
32 · Hellena Post · 12 November 2015, 17:46
Thank you so much for sharing your story, and your beautiful heart, and for being such a trailblazer when it comes to dealing with grief through love, forgiveness, and giving.
I feel so privileged to know you, and to witness your desire for your family to move through seemingly unsurmountable grief and trauma gracefully, and how well you’ve achieved that outcome.
I have so much love for you and all your extended family. Please keep writing. You’re my favourite blogger!! :)
33 · r. · 13 November 2015, 11:58
Can I ask a dumb question about childbirth? I’d been under the impression that there’s usually poop involved. How does that work when you use a labor pool?
(Please all, don’t jump on me if I’m misinformed. I’ve just always wondered.)
34 · Froot Bat · 13 November 2015, 14:00
Beautiful birth story. Happy birthday little Daníel. Thanks so much for sharing such a joyous love story. The pic of the first cuddle in the pool is just gorgeous.
I’d love to read a book about your experiences. I’d especially like to read about the transcultural aspects of taking your family to Iceland. Such a different culture and landscape, it would be great to hear how you were all affected by the scenery and place.
Looking forward to your next post.
35 · Meegs · 13 November 2015, 16:59
Reading this was such a wonderful experience. Having also done a surrogacy, it brought me back to those life changing feeling surrounding the birth (including the joy of having little boy with his family, and getting to sleep through the night to recover!). I am absolutely interested in hearing the rest of the story!
I send positive thoughts your way often, as I see the bumper sticker you sent. Best!
36 · Amandarose · 13 November 2015, 20:34
Thankyou for sharing your story. I think you could write any sort of book- fictional or autobiographic – your very talented at writing and also very brave for continuing to do so in an era of trolls.
best wishes to you and your family
37 · Missy · 13 November 2015, 20:58
What a beautiful piece, such a selfless thing to do. I’ve read a blog post here and there, we have a few mutual friends, but I think I will have to go back and read more. We met briefly recently and I had no idea you had lost a son. I don’t know how you breath after such a great loss, I can’t even imagine. I’m so sorry to read that Lauren.
I’m sure I will see you around the Valley.
M x
38 · Lauren · 13 November 2015, 22:30
Dear r.
Yes, there is most usually poo involved in childbirth. As the baby passes along the final stretch of the birth canal, it squeezes the bowel.
When birthing on a bed, the poo is quickly wiped away by attending midwives or nurses. When birthing in a pool, it falls to the bottom of the pool and is forgotten.
It becomes unimportant because its arrival is eclipsed by the appearance of the baby. We had poop in our birthing pool, but I’ve spared you the photos. ;)
Love,
Lauren
39 · Elizabeth · 14 November 2015, 19:38
Lauren you have such a great heart. Please please write an autobiography of at least 500 pages. You write so beautifully your life has had such joys and such tragedies and you are a fascinatingly complex person. I would love to read anything you write. You inspire us all and confront us at the same time. You need to tell your story before someone else tries to. Your writing is like the sound of running water across river stones. There is s lilt and a beauty and a musicality to your words. Sending love and blessings xxx
40 · Mary · 15 November 2015, 08:19
Lauren,
Elizabeth is correct, you need to tell your story before someone else tries to. Write from the true perspective of “you”. Godspeed and may the Spirit provide bread for the journey.
“My deepest me is God”. -St. Katherine of Genoa
Blessings,
Mary
41 · Chelsea · 16 November 2015, 13:09
I adore you and your girls, and I’m so happy to see you writing again!! Life has handed you so much, and you’ve gotten through it with a grace and dignity most of us can only dream of. I’d love to read any book you read. You inspire me. Your life inspires me. And your girls are lucky to call you mum.
42 · Jenn · 16 November 2015, 15:34
Beautifully written – thank you for sharing. Much love to you Lauren!
43 · Annie · 18 November 2015, 07:40
Thank you for sharing your story so honestly and openly. I love reading your posts and find your love and compassion inspirational
44 · Rosie · 18 November 2015, 09:15
Much love to all of you. You gave us something through this, too. We are now living a freer and happier life on the road. We would love to read your story and look forward to the documentary coming out. Please let the girls know that we think and talk about them often and I look forward to seeing you all again, one day.
45 · Paulo · 22 November 2015, 09:19
Bravo, ma chère. It’s fantastic you were able to help them out. Thanks for posting pictures, it’s worth a thousand words.
46 · Bravebohemian · 22 November 2015, 18:02
You inspire me to be a better human!
Thank you for sharing your story xo
47 · Trudy · 24 November 2015, 22:23
What an amazing experience for you all.
Your 4 girls are so fortunate to see and learn up close what childbirth is all about. Most people go their whole life without witnessing any birth except giving birth themselves, or (like me), not at all.
The love & trust you all showed is inspiring.
Thanks for sharing : )
48 · Narelle · 25 November 2015, 07:37
full of grace….
your message of love with no boundries is needed in these times.
makes me feel not so alone….
49 · Sharon · 10 December 2015, 02:29
I am so happy. I am so sad. I am so excited. I love you all!
I came to research what blogs really look like as I’d like to start one myself for when we set off to travel around Australia in a few months. This was the first blog and story I read. I’m hooked. I love your writing style! I love how you pulled me in and took me on your journey with you! I love your story! Thank you for sharing it!
What a treasure!
50 · Tania · 26 April 2016, 16:48
I love reading of a life and lifestyle that differs so much from my own traditional lifestyle.
You have opened my mind through your sharing with the world.
I will never understand how you chose to give away your second born son, after the tremendous loss of Elijah. I can’t even begin to understand how you even considered this journey, given the risks that were inherent.
Whilst your story is your story and that is for no-one else to question, Daniel’s experience and that of your girls as they grow older, will be theirs. So whilst this has been a positive experience for you, and you can speak for your girls while they are young, in time they will have their own voices and understanding of the loss of their brother to surrogacy. I hope you can keep your mind open enough to hear their voices if their voices are not the same as yours. Daniel’s voice will also need to be heard. He may not thank you for giving birth to him and leaving him to be raised by two men over the other side of the world from his mother. That’s the risk you took. There is significant research that highlights the trauma of loss for adoptee’s, children conceived from donor gametes and children born of surrogacy. You risked this when you chose surrogacy. Whilst you undoubtedly do not ever want to believe that the decision you made with love will hurt people, please keep in mind that it may… in time. Be open to the stories of others who are affected by your decision. Your best intentions do not necessarily mean that you made the best decision.
My words do not come from a place of malice, but from experience. What’s done is done, but the journey is far from over. I hope you can keep your mind open for viewpoints that may not match your own. It is critical that you do.
51 · Lauren · 2 May 2016, 19:02
Dear Tania,
Thank you for writing such a thoughtful comment from a place of love. I hear you, and I accept your warning of a risk that someone may be hurt in the future from the decisions I made in birthing for my friends. To mitigate that risk, my Icelandic boys and I are maintaining a close relationship in which we nearly daily exchange photos, videos and commentary on our children and our lives. We plan to visit each other soon when funding permits, and we are confident that we will continue to share an amazing relationship for the rest of our lives.
My best intention has always been to demonstrate best-practice surrogacy, and that intention hasn’t ceased, hence I am continuing to be a loving part of Daniel Valur and his parents’ lives. <3
So much love,
Lauren :)
52 · Jane · 3 May 2016, 19:53
All power to you Lauren. I don’t think I would be able to show the courage and grace with which you’ve approached the bumps in your road. Ignore the naysayers – your intentions were pure and measured. I admire you immensely and wish you and your girls much happiness in the years ahead. xx Jane