REVISITING A SURROGATE MOM ‘MY KIDS STILL THINK I WORKED IN A HOSPITAL’

Ifirst met Diksha Budhathoki (then Gurung) in 2011. The young woman from Nepal was then a second-time surrogate mother and a resident of the surrogate home at Anand. Diksha is still as sprightly, despite her ill-health today. “I have learnt how to talk in the past four years. I feel more confident now,” she says. There’s more that has changed: Diksha calls herself a “single mother” now.

Six months ago, she also finished her term as a third-time surrogate mother. This time it was for a Russian couple. “I needed the money. There was some [financial] problem,” she says. Later in the conversation, she hints at the fact that the split with her husband was a financial setback too. He left with her money and the Toshiba laptop that a grateful Japanese couple had gifted her. She also sold her house a year ago and so has taken up surrogacy once again. “I wasn’t sure, but the Russian couple [whose baby she was taking care of as a nanny], insisted that I would be the best surrogate mother for them,” she says. It helped that in Diksha’s previous terms as a surrogate mother, she had gotten pregnant after the first embryo transfer.

Being a three-time surrogate mother has changed Diksha’s life. “I speak five [Indian] languages now, and I also have a job as a 24X7 nanny that pays

me about 15,000 every month,” she says. With the money she is able to take care of her two sons, who are at a boarding school. Diksha tells me that surrogacy is a good avenue for women like her. “We give happiness to people who don’t have kids. My last partywaale [commissioning couple] have been very nice to me, always eager to help,” she says. While some couples do not appreciate attempts by surrogate mothers to stay in touch after they have left with the baby, things have worked out well for Diksha. She dips into her bag and takes out a credit card that the Russian couple has given her. Like the other surrogate mothers, Diksha too feels foreigners shouldn’t be stopped from commissioning surrogacy. “They really take care of you,” she says.

Of course, the journey is not all that easy. “You are not a normal pregnant woman, you are a surrogate mother; it’s a responsibility. You cannot roam around just like that. It’s somebody else’s baby,” she says. And then there are the progesterone tablets and injections, and a battery of multi-vitamins to be had at regular intervals. Initially, it’s also difficult to stay away from family, but gradually “you get used to it.” Being away also means inventing plausible explanations for the children.

“I just told them I am staying in a hospital. My younger one believed me. But the older son was quiet. Maybe, he got it. He never asked me again. I will tell them when they are old enough.”

*** In the “choice” versus “exploitation” debate, however, the complex realities of women’s experiences — the issue of fair compensation, proper working conditions, information about medical procedures, combined with the fact that a lack of better employment opportunities makes them turn to surrogacy — are obfuscated. The layered reality of the women’s experiences demands a position that protects their interests. Deepa V of the Delhi-based NGO Sama, a resource group for women’s health, says a more useful position stems from a feminist, women’s health perspective. “One of the big problems here is the way clinics deal with informed consent. Our studies have shown that women are seldom aware of the potential health risks that they are enduring while undergoing these procedures,” she says.

For Manju, the discomfort that she is experiencing is all “fine” because she needs the money. “In my earlier pregnancies, I barely had any discomfort. This time, I feel nauseous and dizzy if I walk too much. Maybe it’s because it’s hot outside,” she says adding that she’s up for surrogacy only this once.

“Perhaps I will come back if there’s a [financial] problem.” I ask Manju how she feels about those who feel that women such as her are “incubators” working in a “baby factory”. “Machine hi toh hai (We are machines only) Don’t we work at home and outside too?” she says, as she rushes into a delivery room where another surrogate mother has delivered a baby boy. The nurse quickly whisks away the new-born. “She won’t be seeing the child now. Attachment ho jayega na (She will develop feelings),” explains Seema (name changed), before another surrogate mother asks her to go back to her dorm. “Her partywaale (commissioning couple) don’t like it if she stays outside,” says Manju. “I am also leaving; I feel tired. I have to be careful, it’s someone else’s baby.”

Working as a surrogate mother got me more money that any other work. All the commissioning couples were foreigners. I think they should not be banned from coming here because they really take care of you, and also pay more. The Russian couple gave me a laptop and a credit card. Not all couples are like that though DIKSHA BUDHATHOKI, former surrogate mother