A week before Sierra Martin’s due date on Feb. 27, she received an e-mail. It was from the couple that Martin was carrying a baby for as a gestational surrogate. For Martin, a 22-year-old barista and childminder from Lake Bay, Washington, it was the first surrogacy; she was carrying a boy for a gay couple from China.
Due to the COVID-19 travel ban, the e-mail read, the couple would not be able to get into the US to collect their son. Would Martin look after him until the restrictions were lifted?
“I waited a full day before replying, because I didn’t know what to do. I have nothing to look after a baby,” Martin said.
Illustration: Yusha
After thinking about it, she agreed. Martin gave birth to baby Steven on Feb. 23, and took him home. She is raising him alongside her two children, aged three and five, until his parents can get into the US, sort the paperwork, and bring Steven home to China.
Spending nearly three months raising a baby she has given birth to, but who she is not biologically related to and will be giving back to his parents eventually, is emotionally wearing.
“I love having the baby snuggles, but it is definitely hard knowing that he is not mine. I love him, but I know that he has to go back to his own parents eventually,” Martin said.
Martin and baby Steven are caught up in a nationwide surrogacy crisis of growing proportions.
Commercial surrogacy is legal in some US states, making it a hotspot for parents looking to have children through assisted reproduction.
However, the COVID-19 travel ban has seen US President Donald Trump close the country’s borders to almost all international visitors, while a nationwide US passport office shutdown has made it impossible for parents who do manage to get into the country to obtain the necessary documentation to take their children home.
As a result, babies are being born without their parents present at the birth, as immigration authorities will only let parents in once the surrogate has given birth to the child. In at least one case, a mother flew from France to attend the birth of her child, only to be turned back by border control.
Some parents are not being allowed in the country at all.
Surrogates and surrogacy agencies are scrambling to look after babies themselves. “It’s unprecedented for a surrogate to be looking after the baby,” said Rich Geisler, a surrogacy lawyer from California. “We, as an industry, really try to avoid that. We want to avoid the possibility of the surrogate bonding with the child.”
Martin is adamant that she will be able to give Steven back to his parents when the time is right.
“It will be hard to give him back, because I’ll miss him. But I know he’s not mine, and that I have to give him up, which is totally OK with me,” Martin said.
“There’s definitely a bit of attachment there. I care for him. When you love on a baby, you love on a baby,” she added.
To avoid leaving children in the care of their surrogates, with the emotional challenges this can entail, some surrogacy agency workers are taking babies into their own homes.
“I never anticipated something of this nature happening,” said Katie Faust, a 26-year-old surrogacy caseworker from Tampa Bay, Florida. Faust is caring for a three-week-old girl.
When it became apparent that the baby’s parents, a heterosexual couple living in China, would be unable to collect her, Faust, her husband and their three children flew to California to collect the baby, rented a car, then drove for five days back to Florida. As the baby does not have a passport, they could not take her on a commercial flight.
“We’re just kind of planning it as we go along. We’re trying to figure out a way to get her reunited with her parents as soon as we can. But I’m OK looking after her, until they get here,” Faust said.
For the parents on the other end of the COVID-19 shutdown, there is an excruciating wait to meet their children for the first time.
“I feel really sad about almost everything to do with my son’s birth,” said John, a 41-year-old airline employee from Shanghai.
John’s son with his partner Will, 39, who works in finance, was born on Feb. 24, but they have not been able to enter the US to meet him due to the travel ban.
Both men have requested anonymity, as they are not out to their employers.
When Trump issued an order preventing Chinese nationals from entering the US in January, John wept. “I cried and cried. It was really important for me to be there for the birth,” he said.
Will’s parents live in Portland, Oregon, and are caring for the baby.
“We speak to the baby via WeChat almost every day. When I look at his photos or videos, I feel like my heart is melting,” John said.
However, Will’s parents are older people, and he worries what would happen should they, or the baby, fall sick with COVID-19 — the baby is uninsured, as the shutdown means they can not get the documentation needed to insure him.
John wants more than anything to get into the US and bring his son home.
“Here in China, life is returning to normal. I think the US government should open the border, so I can get my son,” John said.
“Most people here are healthy and do not have the disease,” he added.
In addition to the logistical challenges of arranging care for a child you have never met on the other side of the world, the shutdown means that parents like John and Will are missing out on the precious early months with their children.
Martin is sending Steven’s parents pictures and videos, but she acknowledges that it is not the same.
“For Steven’s sake, it would be nice for him to bond with his parents instead of with me. Those first three months of his life are instrumental in the bonding process for the baby,” Martin said.
And even if parents can get into the US to collect their child, the problems do not end there. Surrogacy is an expensive process. Having to wait in the US for the passport office to reopen — at the moment, it is only issuing documents for emergencies, which do not include surrogacy — all add to the cost.
“People are running out of funds. They’ve already spent so much money on this. They can’t afford another US$2,000 a week on a certified nurse to take care of the baby,” said Melissa Brisman, a reproductive lawyer from New Jersey.
Some parents are stranded in the US, unable to return home with their newborn child.
Recent parents Tcik, 47, and his husband, Avi, 46, from Israel, where same-sex surrogacy is illegal, have been stuck in a hotel room in New Jersey, waiting in vain for the authorities to issue a birth certificate for their daughter, Noga, who was born on April 2.
“We are under huge pressure, because every day our money is getting lower and lower,” Tcik said.
Since Noga’s birth, the family of four — Tcik and Avi have a four-year-old son, also born via surrogate — has been waiting to return home.
However, even when the birth certificate comes through, they will probably still be stuck, unless the Israeli embassy can make an exception and issue Noga emergency travel documents to fly home, in lieu of a US passport.
The family did not budget for nearly two months in the US. They estimate they have spent almost US$20,000 in additional costs due to the COVID-19 shutdown, on top of the approximately US$150,000 cost for the surrogacy.
“If this goes on much longer, we are going to have to borrow money from family and friends,” Tcik said.
He is terrified that his daughter will fall ill — as Noga does not have official papers, she is uninsured. Noga’s parents are terrified to take her outside, lest she contracts COVID-19.
“We are stuck in this hotel. All the time, we’re in this hotel room. We don’t feel safe,” Tcik said.
The solution for the US immigration authorities would be to allow parents into the US to collect their children, and expedite the process by which they can leave the country, Brisman said.
“I would like to see the government allow these people in quickly, and allow them home quickly. We need expedited passports, birth certificates and visas for people whose babies are being born,” she added.
The administrative and bureaucratic nightmare in which Tcik and Avi now find themselves means that COVID-19 has cast a pall over what should be a joyful experience.
“We thank God that we have a daughter who is healthy, and that the surrogate is also OK. That is the most important thing. But this coronavirus shutdown, and us being stuck here, has ruined everything,” Tcik said.
In the US’ National Security Strategy (NSS) report released last month, US President Donald Trump offered his interpretation of the Monroe Doctrine. The “Trump Corollary,” presented on page 15, is a distinctly aggressive rebranding of the more than 200-year-old foreign policy position. Beyond reasserting the sovereignty of the western hemisphere against foreign intervention, the document centers on energy and strategic assets, and attempts to redraw the map of the geopolitical landscape more broadly. It is clear that Trump no longer sees the western hemisphere as a peaceful backyard, but rather as the frontier of a new Cold War. In particular,
As the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA) races toward its 2027 modernization goals, most analysts fixate on ship counts, missile ranges and artificial intelligence. Those metrics matter — but they obscure a deeper vulnerability. The true future of the PLA, and by extension Taiwan’s security, might hinge less on hardware than on whether the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) can preserve ideological loyalty inside its own armed forces. Iran’s 1979 revolution demonstrated how even a technologically advanced military can collapse when the social environment surrounding it shifts. That lesson has renewed relevance as fresh unrest shakes Iran today — and it should
When it became clear that the world was entering a new era with a radical change in the US’ global stance in US President Donald Trump’s second term, many in Taiwan were concerned about what this meant for the nation’s defense against China. Instability and disruption are dangerous. Chaos introduces unknowns. There was a sense that the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) might have a point with its tendency not to trust the US. The world order is certainly changing, but concerns about the implications for Taiwan of this disruption left many blind to how the same forces might also weaken
On today’s page, Masahiro Matsumura, a professor of international politics and national security at St Andrew’s University in Osaka, questions the viability and advisability of the government’s proposed “T-Dome” missile defense system. Matsumura writes that Taiwan’s military budget would be better allocated elsewhere, and cautions against the temptation to allow politics to trump strategic sense. What he does not do is question whether Taiwan needs to increase its defense capabilities. “Given the accelerating pace of Beijing’s military buildup and political coercion ... [Taiwan] cannot afford inaction,” he writes. A rational, robust debate over the specifics, not the scale or the necessity,