Imagine being paid a staggering $75,000 to carry a stranger's baby – it sounds like a dream come true for some, but there’s a shadow side to surrogacy that rarely makes headlines. Briana Hernandez, a 31-year-old single mother from Arizona, knows this all too well. After witnessing her best friend’s heartbreaking struggle with infertility, she decided to become a surrogate, an experience she describes as both profoundly rewarding and alarmingly complex. But here’s where it gets controversial: while surrogacy can be a life-changing gift, it’s also an industry riddled with ethical pitfalls and hidden dangers that most people never see coming.
Hernandez, now living in Ohio, earned up to $75,000 for her role as a surrogate, but she’s quick to emphasize that the journey is far from a simple transaction. ‘It’s not just about the money,’ she insists. ‘It’s about giving someone the family they couldn’t have on their own.’ Yet, she warns, without rigorous ethical and medical oversight, surrogacy can lead to devastating consequences. Surrogates may find themselves caring for children they never intended to raise, or facing life-threatening complications due to inadequate screening. And this is the part most people miss: the emotional and physical toll of surrogacy is often underestimated, even by those who enter it with the best intentions.
Hernandez’s journey began after seeing her friend’s battle with infertility. Around the same time, she learned that a high school acquaintance had been a surrogate. ‘I reached out to her, and after talking, I knew this was something I wanted to do,’ she recalls. Unlike common misconceptions, reputable agencies require surrogates to have already carried and delivered their own children. ‘They need to know your body can handle pregnancy,’ Hernandez explains. ‘Intended parents are investing a lot – emotionally and financially – and they need certainty.’
In the U.S., gestational surrogacy can cost intended parents between $100,000 and $150,000, including medical procedures, legal fees, agency costs, and surrogate compensation. While Hernandez conceived her own children naturally, surrogacy required in vitro fertilization (IVF). ‘You’re essentially tricking your body into thinking it’s pregnant,’ she says. ‘It’s a process that demands both physical and mental resilience.’
Compensation for surrogates varies widely, with first-timers typically earning $40,000 to $50,000. Hernandez, however, earned between $65,000 and $75,000, with all medical and travel expenses covered. ‘But money wasn’t my primary motivation,’ she stresses. ‘I wanted to help someone become a mother.’
Despite carrying the baby for nine months, Hernandez never struggled with detachment. ‘I went into it knowing this wasn’t my child,’ she says. The intended parents were present during the delivery, and the baby went straight to them for skin-to-skin contact. ‘Watching them become parents was surreal,’ she recalls. She even shared a hospital room with the new mother, cherishing their final bonding moment before the family left.
But not all surrogacy stories end so positively. Hernandez has been approached by strangers on social media asking her to carry their baby without any agency or legal involvement. ‘That’s where things can turn dangerous,’ she warns. ‘Without proper contracts and lawyers, surrogates can end up stuck with the baby.’ Reputable agencies require intense screening, including psychological evaluations, medical testing, financial background checks, and home reviews. ‘They scrutinize every aspect of your life,’ she says. ‘And they should – you’re being trusted with someone’s future.’
Surrogacy has faced renewed scrutiny in recent years, especially when high-profile celebrities like Meghan Trainor and Kim Kardashian opt for it. Trainor faced backlash after using a surrogate for her third child, with critics accusing her of prioritizing convenience over the ‘natural’ experience of pregnancy. Similarly, Kardashian, who used surrogates after experiencing pregnancy complications, was accused of ‘taking the easy way out.’ But here’s the question: Does celebrity surrogacy reinforce unrealistic expectations about pregnancy and postpartum bodies, or does it simply highlight the diverse ways families are built today?
Hernandez set clear boundaries about the types of intended parents she would carry for. ‘I only wanted to help those who medically couldn’t carry,’ she says. ‘I wouldn’t do it for someone who just didn’t want to gain weight.’ Yet, she acknowledges that every situation is unique. ‘Pregnancy is hard, but for me, this was about changing someone’s life.’
Her experience left her with no regrets, only a profound sense of purpose. ‘People have a child because of me – that’s incredible,’ she reflects. But she’s adamant that surrogacy isn’t a quick payday. ‘It’s physically and emotionally demanding. You have to be mentally prepared for everything.’
Her advice to anyone considering surrogacy? ‘Do it the right way. Protect yourself. And make sure your reasons are pure.’ But here’s the final thought-provoking question: As surrogacy becomes more common, how do we balance the joy it brings with the ethical and emotional complexities it raises? Let’s discuss – do you think surrogacy is a gift, a risk, or something in between? Share your thoughts below.
