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Surrogacy was for those who had suffered.
Photo: Getty Images
Who did I think I was to treat someones last resort as my first?
Then I did suffer, though it had nothing to do with my fertility.
I had just moved into my new house, and a friend asked for pictures.
I stepped onto the fireplace hearth in the living room to get a better vantage.
When I stepped off, I rolled my ankle and went down hard.
I heard what sounded like a twig snapping.
For that time Id need to use crutches and wear a boot.
I emailed the doctor and described my symptoms.
He emailed back that he could get me fitted for a different boot.
He reiterated that it would be really, really uncommon.
I almost left it there.
Who died because she hadnt wanted to be pushy.
When I was little, my parents called me thewhat ifkid.
What if lightning strikes our house?
What if theres flesh-eating bacteria in that water?
What if this bump on my shin isnt a calcium deposit like my coach said but bone cancer?
The subtext, never uttered out loud for fear it could manifest as true, what if I die?
Various doctors over the years recommended antidepressants, but I simply didnt identify as a person who needed medication.
Everyone could see I was buckling.
That was a Friday morning.
By Monday, it was as though a velvet curtain had dropped between me and all my chronicwhat ifs.
I could stop white knuckling my way through the day.
It was a remarkable kind of emancipation.
One that, in my mind, pregnancy expressly jeopardized.
At 35, most of my friends had carried children.
And those were just the examples where no one died.
Pregnancy has been politicized for the entirety of my child-bearing years.
I endured that period of my life with as much stoicism as I could muster.
Motherhood had been billed as a thankless slog that would cannibalize my career and rot my identity.
It was an act of confirmation bias in its purest form.
In theory, I knew not everyone had to have the same experiences in life.
I had an egalitarian partner.
Most of all, I had the means to afford surrogacy.
The decision did not happen overnight.
Id seen famous women who chose surrogacy take a battering online.
I was not a bad person for not wanting to feel afraid again.
At 36, I completed a round of IVF.
My hands trembled every time I gave myself a shot.
But I made it through, and my husband and I ended up with four healthy embryos.
While the surrogacy agency assumed we wanted to start the search immediately, I had other plans.
This was another dignity that surrogacy restored forme.
I got to say when.
I knew she meant well, and so I didnt correct her.
What kind of woman would I be if I told her that actually, Id never felt better?
But the only thing that would have made me miserable is the inability to make this choice.
Im the kind who puts her life jacket on before I put on anyone elses.
Im the kind who will teach her daughter she is a good person for taking care of herself first.
Jessica Knoll is the author ofBright Young Women,now out in paperback.
