mothering, which engages with children as cherished beings rather than commercial assets, no longer fits in the marketplace of surrogate mummies.
But even when money is not involved, surrogacy raises concerns. Policy-makers, politicians and psychologists agree that the family is the building block of a flourishing society: it provides children with their first experience of identity and security, and their first lessons in right and wrong.
Our traditional notion of “the family” has been stretched to include cohabitation, divorce, step-parents and stepchildren, and gay marriage. Can it stretch further to encompass surrogacy cases where a mother and son have a baby together? Or does this endless manipulation in fact leave the family unit hollowed out, a meaningless husk rather than an inspiring template for all?
Mrs Justice Theis, the judge in the Cassons’ surrogacy case, claimed the close relationship between the family members involved had proved a “critical feature”.
A report described how baby Miles, now eight months old, “clearly has formulated a secure attachment to the father”, adding: “The father understands that the child will need to know about how he was conceived and feels that he will utilise the security of the family structure to support his son in understanding that he is a very much wanted child.” For some, this is enough. “Hi-tech interventions in reproduction are not necessarily antithetical to the forging of stable, loving relations,” says Fergus Greer, a psychologist specialising in the family.
“As long as the child bonds with its primary carer, feels secure and loved, it will do well, no matter how unconventional its conception. If Kyle and AnneMarie can create this loving home for Miles, he will be able to cope with the revelation of his unusual origins.”
The Cassons’ case has set a precedent. More and more unconventional conceptions like theirs will ensue, allowing wouldbe parents to realise their dreams. Solomon welcomes this development, saying: “Why should making children be reserved to two people, and closed to those who, for one reason or another, are not adequately fertile to procreate?”
Kyle Casson agrees: “I did not choose to be gay. I was born that way. I was born unable to have kids. Being a dad was a high priority in my life and now I have done it.”
A new life beckons for the Casson family. A new era dawns for the rest of us, too. Infertility, sexual proclivity, marital status: social mores and medical advances have removed every barrier to conceiving.
A new generation, who did not choose to be surrogate babies, will decide at what cost we have satisfied our baby hunger.