Sharing the Gift of Life

Today, most surrogates are implanted with the genetic embryo of an infertile couple or with a donor egg. Although there have been a few high-profile celebrity surrogacies -- for Dennis Quaid, Angela Bassett and Joan Lunden, for example -- the practice accounts for less than 1 percent of all births by assisted reproductive technologies. And because the procedure is relatively rare -- and condemned by some religious traditions -- many people aren't sure what to think. "When people find out I've had a surrogate baby, their reaction is, 'Wow, you seem so normal,' " Kovacic said.

Some states ban surrogacies in which a surrogate would use her own egg. Others, including New York and Utah, ban surrogacy altogether, as do many countries. In the District, Jamie's contracted birth would have been punishable by a $10,000 fine and a year in jail. But in California, Massachusetts and Maryland, a surrogate carrying the genetic child of the intended parents can waive her parental rights while pregnant so that the intended parents' names are on the birth certificate.

Under Virginia law, passed in 1994 just weeks before Jamie's birth, surrogates must be married and can carry only the genetic child of married intended parents. Agencies are prohibited from recruiting surrogate mothers, which is why all Washington area matching services are in Maryland. And, to avert baby selling, the law allows Virginia surrogates to receive payment only for ancillary living expenses. Genetic mothers can have birth certificates reissued with their names after delivery by filing DNA tests, as Van Cleef did.

Tired of the ambivalence, the Hollywood movie stereotypes and the media coverage that seems to report only when surrogacy goes wrong, Kovacic and Van Cleef wanted to share their story as a counterpoint.

"There's no shame in it," Van Cleef said. "And it provides an opportunity to have a family in a way that you envisioned a family."

Their story began May 23, 1990, when Van Cleef almost died giving birth to her firstborn, Peter. Hours before, while she was in labor with Peter, she and Doug had decided they wanted three children. But complications arose, and doctors had to perform an emergency hysterectomy. Van Cleef had the presence of mind to ask them to spare her ovaries. "As they were wheeling me back to the recovery room," Van Cleef said, "I thought, 'Hey, I can still do a surrogacy.' "

She spent the next three months in bed, bonding with her infant son and calling around the country to find out how she could have another child with a surrogate.

About the same time, Kovacic was delivering her first surrogate baby in one of the first surrogate births in Virginia. Kovacic had been appalled by the Whitehead case and, blessed by three easy deliveries via C-section, decided that she wanted to help someone who was unable to conceive. She went through an agency in Maryland and was paid $10,000 to carry another couple's child.

She viewed her pregnancy as another part-time job -- she has worked for the same pediatrician for almost 30 years. And the money helped, as her then-husband's hunting store struggled. But the money is something she still feels guilty about.

"To be honest, I wish I could have done it and not taken money for it," Kovacic said. "It's like when you give someone a gift, you know they're going to love it, and you can't wait to see the look on their faces when they open it. That's the ultimate."

Her friends were not surprised. Kovacic is the kind of person who bakes cupcakes for her roommates on the maternity ward after they return home, volunteers for everything and, as her children were growing up, enforced "Random Acts of Kindness" Fridays.

But she has never seen the first surrogate baby nor heard from the parents again, other than receiving a note expressing that they would be "forever grateful."