Stephanie and Matt Larnder with surrogate Janelle Freeman (centre). Photo / Supplied
Stephanie and Matt Larnder with surrogate Janelle Freeman (centre). Photo / Supplied
The modern family comes in many shapes and sizes. Some couples desperate for a baby turn to strangers for help, as did Stephanie Larnder and her husband.
I was 24 years old when I had a full hysterectomy. My life up to that point had been far from traditional. Exposure to drugs, alcohol and violence led me into premature adulthood, so I guess when this all came about it was just another thing to add to the list of crazy s*** I had to deal with.
In August 2014, I was at my smallest, weighing 47kg and I looked like a healthy, happy woman. Inside I was physically and mentally unwell. Obsessed with external beauty and utterly confused about who I was, I consistently changed jobs or changed my car, never questioning why I felt the need to keep doing so.
It was a Tuesday morning, and I was at an early morning gym session with my sister-in-law. My stomach had been bloated over the past few weeks and was tender to touch, making sit-ups near impossible. Throughout that day I couldn't eat, but I hadn't been eating much over the previous few months, so it wasn't worrying me. By the time I got home that night, my stomach resembled a watermelon. Out of sheer panic that I was gaining weight I booked an appointment with my GP for the following day.
"It looks like you're about 12 weeks pregnant" were the first words out of his mouth. I politely replied that I had already done a test and it was negative. He did some pushing and prodding of my belly and then left the room and returned with an ultrasound machine. For many years I had been complaining of chronic period pain, excessive menstrual cycles, pain during sex and going to the toilet. I had even felt marble-sized lumps in my abdomen, and my GP had never before wheeled in an ultrasound machine for a more thorough look.
This moment is integral to what would become my ongoing disappointment in the health system.
He turned pretty white when he saw what appeared on the ultrasound screen. He handed me a script to take to A&E for further scans. At A&E, I received the same pale-faced reaction from the radiographer, particularly when she could barely do the internal examination.
I had recently started a new job and I didn't want to take time off. I rang my mum and husband and lied to them both about the seriousness of my diagnosis, which allowed me a few more days to finish prepping for a conference the following week. At last, on Friday, I admitted that I needed them to come with me to the hospital for a "small operation", naively thinking I could be back at work on Monday.
When we arrived at the hospital that Friday night, the emergency room was packed. Within a few hours, I had signed waivers for the removal of any other organs affected, drips were in, gown on and I was wheeled into surgery for the removal of a 20cm cyst.
Larnder with Grayson and surrogate Janelle Freeman soon after his birth on April 1, 2020. Photo / Supplied
It took eight hours and a large surgical team to complete the removal. They were able to remove the largest cyst without removing the ovary it was attached to, but after such a long procedure they ran out of time to remove the smaller cysts.
I had a complicated medical history. I'd been a three-month prem baby born with gangrene throughout my intestines resulting in temporary ileostomies, scar tissue from multiple surgeries, a history of open heart surgery and scoliosis of the spine, and now with endometriosis raging in full force.
I slowed down my hectic lifestyle of partying all weekend. My husband and I purchased our first home a few months later and we had to grow up even further. I healed fast and was eager to get back to work.
Not long after I returned to work, I arranged a follow-up appointment with a gynaecologist during my lunch break. The gynaecologist had explained some hard truths to me, based on my last set of scans. The endometriosis was spreading furiously. I had hydrosalpinx (fluid in the fallopian tubes), rectovaginal endometriosis (endometrial tissue between vagina and rectum), I had grown another cyst on the same ovary the large one had been removed from, and I still had the existing cysts they hadn't been able to remove during the first operation.
Lots of women have different levels of endometriosis and in most cases they endure many keyhole operations to remove it. However, in my case and with my medical history, keyhole surgery was not possible and more extensive operations would be life threatening. Since I was a little girl, my mum had been telling me that although my "girl parts" worked, we couldn't be sure my body would withstand pregnancy.
This opinion was shared by my gynaecologist.
As I spluttered out the news to Matt at home, my poor husband was in as much shock as I was. He listened intently and wiped the tears from my eyes, before lifting my head from his chest and softly saying, "There is no point in life without you in it. Let's get the hysterectomy."
The next few months were the worst. One day I would be on board with the decision, convinced that this had to be done to ensure my life; other days I would argue that I could continue with surgeries and keep fighting this disease. Back and forth, arguments, frustration, tears and pain (both physical and mental) led to me walking out a few times – not because I wanted to, but because Matt didn't deserve any of this. He wasn't broken, I was! And none of this was fair on him. Every time I left, I came back because I was selfish and I couldn't live without him. I couldn't do life without this man. I had spent nearly every waking moment with him since I was 14 years old. He assured me he felt the same – "If it's you or babies, I will pick you every time".
About a year after the operation, we decided we were ready to become parents and decided to explore adoption through Child, Youth and Family.
What we didn't realise was how low adoption rates are in New Zealand, mainly due to how common abortion and whāngai is.
We were told another 75 couples in Auckland alone were also waiting to adopt and that although there would be more than 100 adoptions in New Zealand within the year, the number of those in a "traditional adoption" situation, where a birth mother gives up the child from birth to be parented by strangers (not a whāngai situation), was less than 10 annually, and that was a generous estimate.
The adoption course was held in a classroom setting and took two full days, with a week and homework between each session.
As the years went by, we waited and waited. I battled with hormone replacement pills and waited for a call to say that we had been chosen to become parents.
As we approached the end of year two on the adoption waitlist, we began to consider other options. Although we liked the idea of adopting a child in need, it wasn't happening, so we began looking into surrogacy.
Honestly, a huge part of me struggled with the idea of seeing someone else carrying my child. And other parts of the process were terrifying – the "birth mother" would have more rights than we would, as the law recognised only her as the parent.
If she decided she wanted to, she could keep our baby. (There is no protection in place for biological parents based on the 1955 Adoption Act, which doesn't recognise having a baby through any method other than sex.)
In the years that followed, we had two potential surrogates express their desire to help us become a family. Both came to us as friends, knowing our situation and, in both cases, it felt like it was meant to be. Unfortunately, for different reasons and at different stages in the process, they each changed their minds, and our hearts broke that little bit more.
The surrogacy journey
By 2018 we had been through so many ups and downs and had seen so many of our friends and family have more children, that we found ourselves in a dark place, resentful and angry about our situation. We had already bought a bigger home where we could raise a family, along with our dog Titan. So on August 8, 2018, we decided to stop relying on people we knew to help us and we posted anonymously on a NZ-based Facebook page.
To our surprise, along with supportive comments, we had four women respond with genuine interest. It was easy to disregard a few from their profile pictures (one was smoking a bong), but this was where we met Janelle. Her first message introducing herself and expressing her love of animals was reassuring, and over the next few months we got to know each other.
Stephanie and Matt Larnder with their son Grayson at the Family Court after officially adopting him.
I remember the first time we met in person (at a mall, the halfway point between our houses), I was so nervous. It felt like a first date – the awkward greeting at the start, followed by small talk. However, after an hour we were chatting away like old friends. I rushed home to tell Matt all about her, full of excitement and happiness. For the first time in a long time, life began to feel less heavy. Could this be it? Would we finally have our child?
Over the months that followed, we began a beautiful friendship with Janelle. We met her kids and her parents. We caught up every few weeks and discussed how the process would work, beginning with medical checks and counselling at Fertility Plus. The criteria to become a surrogate is specific, and luckily Janelle ticked all the boxes.
She had finished her family, was within the age and BMI range, no serious medical issues and was a non-smoker. Through counselling, we discovered we were in agreement about some hard topics (like, what would happen if there was a complication at birth and only surrogate or baby could survive? What would happen if the baby had a deformity or syndrome – was abortion an option?).
At the same time as we were doing the counselling, we met a case worker at Oranga Tamariki. Adoption is involved in the surrogacy process. Even though we legally owned the embryos, once they were transferred into the surrogate, they became her property, so to take ownership back we would need to legally adopt the child post-birth.
The couple's on Grayson was a gift after Larnder struggled with endometriosis. Photo / Supplied
Oranga Tamariki would assign a case worker to us, and we would be required again to jump through more hoops, including police checks, application forms, two references from friends/family and home visits completed by Oranga Tamariki. It seemed outrageous to send someone to check that we had stays on the windows and baby gates on the stairs, and then to have them write a multi-page assessment of us.
Then we would need lawyers. Both parents and surrogate would have to meet independent lawyers to complete the paperwork required for the Ethics Committee of Assisted Reproductive Technology (Ecart) submission. Ecart is a group of people who meet four times a year to discuss and review all the surrogacy requests in NZ and would either approve, defer, or decline requests based on the specifics of each case.
Once all of that was completed, our fertility counsellor submitted a report to Ecart for review. It cost around $3000.
I remember receiving the call from the clinic confirming we had received approval from Ecart. It was a few days before Christmas and they'd wanted to tell us as a "Christmas present" although the formal letter wouldn't arrive until January. We got our immediate families together and announced what we had been up to and the journey we were on.
It was a huge shock for them – they'd thought we were still waiting to adopt – but it was a good shock, with a few happy tears. It was like announcing a pregnancy. In a weird and special way, we were announcing that all our heartache, hard work and perseverance had been worth it. We might even be pregnant in the coming year.
When Sex is not Enough.
• Extracted from When Sex is not Enough: Three Fertility Journeys by Melissa Hori, Stephanie Larnder & Simone Fernandes, RRP: $27.99, www.whensexisnotenough.co.nz.
