Chapter Four

EMMA’S POV

Really. It would be nice to be in attendance. I can only grin at the handwritten note at the back of the flier.

My eyebrows lift up in realization as I turn to the front page. My eyes widen at every detail, ideas lighting up in my mind.

I could not help but pace up and down my room, thinking of taking up this chance. The money is huge even when paid in installments. This could mean a whole lot of change for mum's health and Hilda's fees.

I take my phone and do a quick research. I breathe in, my face pressed to the wall. Thoughts of what Mother would say envelopes me but, this decision is for her wellbeing too.

I jump on my bed with my hands reaching for my phone. I copy the email address and commence with the main application. My hands wobble as I type, wiping off and making corrections.

Eventually my text reads,

Willoughby Clinic, 

I am writing to express my heartfelt interest in becoming a gestational surrogate, providing the precious gift of parenthood to intended parents who dream of welcoming a child into their lives.

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Emma Johnson, and I am a 20-year-old college student.

My desire to become a surrogate arises from a profound sense of empathy and compassion for individuals or couples facing challenges on their path to parenthood and also from the need of finance.

Throughout my life, I have strived to maintain excellent physical and emotional health.

I have undertaken extensive research and self-education on the surrogacy process, including its medical, legal, and emotional aspects. I am fully committed to offering my unwavering support to intended parents, making this journey as smooth and positive as possible.

I understand that surrogacy is a deeply personal and altruistic act. I am ready to embrace its responsibilities and challenges. I am committed to working closely with medical professionals, adhering to all legal agreements, and maintaining open and honest communication with the intended parents throughout this journey.

I am eager to undergo any necessary medical and psychological evaluations as part of the screening process, ensuring that I meet all the required criteria to be a surrogate.

Confidentiality and respect for the intended parents' wishes are of utmost importance to me. I am fully prepared to work within the legal framework of surrogacy and provide the intended parents with the opportunity to experience the joy of parenthood.

Thank you for considering my application. I am excited about the possibility of becoming a surrogate. I would be grateful for the opportunity to discuss this further and provide any additional information or references if needed.

Sincerely,

Emma Johnson.

I heave a sigh of relief hearing the whooshing sound of a sent mail.

Every beep on my phone makes my heart skip. My expectation for a sealed contract seem to dwindle and I see myself sitting on the fence of making the decision or deleting the mail and forgetting I had ever seen that paper.

****

The ring gets me out of my head.

"Hello?"

There was a pause and then a frown, "Yes." 

A pause and a few gesticulations from nosy Hilda, wanting to know what the call was about.

"Alright." I end the call.

"What's happening? You are tense." Her eyes follow me.

"It's nothing. Just work. I'll see you later. Take care of mum." I run through my hair with my fingers and put on a jacket.

It is the third day after sending the mail—the meeting and signing of the surrogacy contract with the intended parents.

"Excuse me, sir?" I am quite curious as to why the huge white room had no one else except two nurses, Barrister Frederick and I.

He looks up from his file, "Oh, yes. Any hitch?"

"It is just you, the nurses and I. Do you mind telling me why the intended parents are absent?" I ask, looking around at intervals.

"Miss Johnson, the intended parents made a decision to be incognito in this surrogacy case," He lifts his glasses to the upper part of his nose bridge, "Read on, read carefully and sign."

I shrug, not knowing what to say. I sign on the signatory box with the ballpoint pen after reading every single sentence. The money is all that matters, it is what I am focused on and I need it very quickly.

"Good job. The nurses would see to the rest of the process and your bank account would be credited afterwards." He reaches out for a handshake which I slowly take.

******

Back in the coziness of my blue-themed enclosed room, I skim through every poster and designs on the walls, the desk and the piles of neatly arranged books atop, the soft and edge-fraying bed I'm sitting in, and the cramped wardrobe holding shoes at the bottom of it. 

I wonder if this small room would still befit me in months to come, when my tummy begins to protrude. I wonder what else will change. My tummy? My skin? But, what if I make up my mind not to give out the baby I'll nurture in my womb? What if I change my mind?

I have heard of so many stories; women who do not feel a thing for their children and other women, who cannot afford to let go of theirs. What if I do not follow up with the contract? What if I can not let go? What if the 'unknown' intended parents come for me?

Too many 'what ifs' clouds my brain,

"Do not question it, E. Do not." I tap myself continuously.

I try to distract myself from my thoughts. I turn on the cassette player on the desk and nod my head to the rhythm of soft notes and instruments merged together but my thoughts defy the distraction as it keeps pouring in.

I whisper to myself, "I am unsure of this, so I don't think I will. Or will I?"