Showing posts with label Infant Loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Infant Loss. Show all posts
Friday, February 26, 2016
Monday, October 19, 2015
The Flavor of the Month - Written by Drew
The last eighteen months have been tough for international surrogacy facilitators and agents. In the wake of several high profile cases, India has continued to tighten its restrictions on surrogacy. Thailand closed its doors in 2014 although the case of Baby Carmen continues to highlight the danger of surrogacy in a place where the legal framework is evolving. An earthquake in Nepal didn't slow them down, but the Supreme Court in Nepal has put a moratorium on surrogacy. The news from Mexico has not been encouraging.
Of all the possible locations on the planet to descend upon for surrogacy, where are the international facilitators and agencies going now?
Cambodia.
As a wise man once said, I'm not making this up.
Let's see what the US State Department (link) has to say about traveling to Cambodia.
On Crime:
"Cambodia has a high crime rate, including street crime. Military weapons and explosives are readily available to criminals despite authorities’ efforts to collect and destroy such weapons. Armed robberies occur frequently, and foreign residents and visitors, including U.S. citizens, are among the victims. The Embassy has also received reports that hotel rooms of U.S. citizen visitors in Phnom Penh were burglarized while the occupants were asleep."
"Local police rarely investigate reports of crime against tourists, and travelers should not expect to recover stolen items. It has also been reported that some police stations charge foreigners between $20 and $100 to file a police report."
The concept of someone breaking into my hotel room while I'm sleeping is creepy to say the least, the idea of this happening in a room where my newborn infant is sleeping is horrifying. That's saying nothing about the military-grade weapons that are easily accessible.
On LGBT Rights:
"While there are no legal restrictions on same-sex sexual relations or the organization of LGBT events in Cambodia, public attitudes remain negative towards LBGT individuals, and same sex marriage is generally not permitted. There have been no reports of arrests or violence related to LBGT travelers."
The fact that there have not been reports of arrests or violence related to LGBT travelers may seem encouraging, however the cultural climate of negativity towards the LGBT community is concerning. What is more concerning is that despite several cases of LGBT parents experiencing legal issues in non tolerant countries, that facilitators and agencies continue to bring their clients to places where their rights are not recognized and protected.
Most importantly, this is what the US State Department says on on Health:
"Medical facilities and services in Cambodia do not meet international standards. Both Phnom Penh and Siem Reap have a limited number of internationally-run clinics and hospitals that can provide basic medical care and stabilization. Medical care outside of these two cities is almost non-existent. Local pharmacies provide a limited supply of prescription and over-the-counter medications, but because the quality of locally obtained medications can vary greatly, make sure to bring a supply of your medications that is adequate for the duration of your stay in Cambodia. You should be wary of purchasing local medication. Counterfeit medication is readily available, often indiscernible from authentic medication, and potentially lethal."
Even if we were to ignore everything else, what about the above paragraph indicates that Cambodia is a safe and appropriate place to conduct a surrogacy? By definition, surrogate pregnancies are considered high risk. The increased risk of multiple pregnancy and prematurity make access to high quality health care critical for the safety and wellbeing of babies.
Likely, if you point this out to one of the facilitators or agents currently touting Cambodia as the next great option for international surrogacy they will tell you that "their" doctors and clinics are state of the art. Given that they make thousands of dollars from IPs with absolutely zero accountability for outcomes, I suppose it's not surprising that they would minimize the risk. Disappointing, but not surprising. I mean really.... who cares what the State Department has to say as long as the facilitators "feel" good about it.
Families through Surrogacy's website has the following to say about surrogacy in Cambodia:
Note: The Cambodian surrogate retains parental rights under the law. While facilitators may feel comfortable minimizing the risk that this poses to intended parents, one only has to look at the current Baby Carmen case to see just how dangerous ignoring the legal rights of the surrogate is.
As always, we urge all hopeful IPs to consider the risks to everyone involved when it comes to weighing your options, no matter how desperate you may feel. As has been said here before, where your baby will be born is the first decision you will make that could have serious and/or long-lasting repercussions on your baby's health. As the first anniversary of my twins' birth and my son's death quickly approaches, I remember how we were reassured repeatedly that our surrogate was receiving the absolute best care possible, and that my twins would have access to the same level of healthcare as they would in a regional medical center in the United States. My wife and I believed what we had been told repeatedly by our facilitator, and it wasn't until we received conflicting information in the wake of the premature birth that our facilitator admitted that she wasn't a medical professional.
As a matter of fact, none of them are.
None of them are legal experts in any of the numerous countries they have churned through over the last almost two years, either. There is no possible way any of them could become legal experts on surrogacy in country after country after country.
None of them are fluent in the local language, and I find it implausible that any of them could have become experts in the local customs and cultural practices in the very limited amount of time that they spend there before declaring a program "open for business."
Yet they routinely present themselves to desperate intended parents as being experts who are able to determine whether a hospital, clinic, or even an entire country is an appropriate and safe place to bring a newborn into the world.
Of all the possible locations on the planet to descend upon for surrogacy, where are the international facilitators and agencies going now?
Cambodia.
As a wise man once said, I'm not making this up.
Let's see what the US State Department (link) has to say about traveling to Cambodia.
On Crime:
"Cambodia has a high crime rate, including street crime. Military weapons and explosives are readily available to criminals despite authorities’ efforts to collect and destroy such weapons. Armed robberies occur frequently, and foreign residents and visitors, including U.S. citizens, are among the victims. The Embassy has also received reports that hotel rooms of U.S. citizen visitors in Phnom Penh were burglarized while the occupants were asleep."
"Local police rarely investigate reports of crime against tourists, and travelers should not expect to recover stolen items. It has also been reported that some police stations charge foreigners between $20 and $100 to file a police report."
The concept of someone breaking into my hotel room while I'm sleeping is creepy to say the least, the idea of this happening in a room where my newborn infant is sleeping is horrifying. That's saying nothing about the military-grade weapons that are easily accessible.
On LGBT Rights:
"While there are no legal restrictions on same-sex sexual relations or the organization of LGBT events in Cambodia, public attitudes remain negative towards LBGT individuals, and same sex marriage is generally not permitted. There have been no reports of arrests or violence related to LBGT travelers."
The fact that there have not been reports of arrests or violence related to LGBT travelers may seem encouraging, however the cultural climate of negativity towards the LGBT community is concerning. What is more concerning is that despite several cases of LGBT parents experiencing legal issues in non tolerant countries, that facilitators and agencies continue to bring their clients to places where their rights are not recognized and protected.
Most importantly, this is what the US State Department says on on Health:
"Medical facilities and services in Cambodia do not meet international standards. Both Phnom Penh and Siem Reap have a limited number of internationally-run clinics and hospitals that can provide basic medical care and stabilization. Medical care outside of these two cities is almost non-existent. Local pharmacies provide a limited supply of prescription and over-the-counter medications, but because the quality of locally obtained medications can vary greatly, make sure to bring a supply of your medications that is adequate for the duration of your stay in Cambodia. You should be wary of purchasing local medication. Counterfeit medication is readily available, often indiscernible from authentic medication, and potentially lethal."
Even if we were to ignore everything else, what about the above paragraph indicates that Cambodia is a safe and appropriate place to conduct a surrogacy? By definition, surrogate pregnancies are considered high risk. The increased risk of multiple pregnancy and prematurity make access to high quality health care critical for the safety and wellbeing of babies.
Likely, if you point this out to one of the facilitators or agents currently touting Cambodia as the next great option for international surrogacy they will tell you that "their" doctors and clinics are state of the art. Given that they make thousands of dollars from IPs with absolutely zero accountability for outcomes, I suppose it's not surprising that they would minimize the risk. Disappointing, but not surprising. I mean really.... who cares what the State Department has to say as long as the facilitators "feel" good about it.
Families through Surrogacy's website has the following to say about surrogacy in Cambodia:
Note: The Cambodian surrogate retains parental rights under the law. While facilitators may feel comfortable minimizing the risk that this poses to intended parents, one only has to look at the current Baby Carmen case to see just how dangerous ignoring the legal rights of the surrogate is.
As always, we urge all hopeful IPs to consider the risks to everyone involved when it comes to weighing your options, no matter how desperate you may feel. As has been said here before, where your baby will be born is the first decision you will make that could have serious and/or long-lasting repercussions on your baby's health. As the first anniversary of my twins' birth and my son's death quickly approaches, I remember how we were reassured repeatedly that our surrogate was receiving the absolute best care possible, and that my twins would have access to the same level of healthcare as they would in a regional medical center in the United States. My wife and I believed what we had been told repeatedly by our facilitator, and it wasn't until we received conflicting information in the wake of the premature birth that our facilitator admitted that she wasn't a medical professional.
As a matter of fact, none of them are.
None of them are legal experts in any of the numerous countries they have churned through over the last almost two years, either. There is no possible way any of them could become legal experts on surrogacy in country after country after country.
None of them are fluent in the local language, and I find it implausible that any of them could have become experts in the local customs and cultural practices in the very limited amount of time that they spend there before declaring a program "open for business."
Yet they routinely present themselves to desperate intended parents as being experts who are able to determine whether a hospital, clinic, or even an entire country is an appropriate and safe place to bring a newborn into the world.
Wednesday, September 16, 2015
Commenting on this blog is not a right.
This is my blog.
I am not obligated to post abusive, inappropriate ugly comments.
I am not obliged to justify what I do and do not post here.
I am not obliged to give anyone a platform to attack and shame intended parents for speaking out about their experiences.
I am not obliged to promote anyone's business.
It is not my responsibility to promote international surrogacy.
If as an industry professional you feel that I am a big meanie head for demanding that people who charge thousands of dollars for their services be accountable?
Monday, September 14, 2015
When you don't know what to say to someone who has lost their child......
1. Don't be an ass, don't insert a but after your condolences. Try this: "I am so incredibly sorry that this happened. I just don't know what to say."
2. Do not ever say or imply that my son's death was "for the best". Period. Ever. If Johnny had lived he likely would have been neurologically devastated. Guess what? I love my children regardless of their abilities. We would have loved and treasured him regardless of his potential for accomplishment. Say this instead, "You must be devastated. Would you like to talk about it?"
3. Do not tell us that "god needed another angel". Even if the person you are speaking to is religious, telling someone who has just lost their child that somehow it's because "god" needed them more than their parents did is naive at best, and insulting at worst. Try this instead, "I'm going to be thinking about you. I wish there were more I could do."
4. Don't tell us when we should be done grieving. You don't get to tell me when I "should" do anything related to Johnny's death. Instead, say this "I know that this pain will never go away. Anytime you would like to talk about Johnny, I would love to listen."
5. Don't tell us that if you lost a child that you wouldn't be able to go on. What choice do you think I had? Mere hours after my son died, I had to get on a plane....to take care of my daughter. When I came home, did I want to crawl into bed and die myself? Yes. Was it an option? No. Because someone had to be there, not only for my living children, but for my husband. Say this instead, "I can't imagine how you must be feeling. I am so very very sorry."
6. Don't compare grief. Losing your parent, your friend, your sister, your grandmother or your beloved beagle is not the same as losing a child. (Yes, these are all examples of grief comparison that I have heard. Just say this, "There is nothing as painful as losing someone you love. I am so sorry that this happened to you."
7. Don't try to make my grief about you. You do not need to tell me how hard it is for YOU that I'm grieving. You do not need to tell me that my son's death was hard for your kids or your husband or your best friend. While you may be trying to show me that you're empathize with my feelings, all it does is put me in the position of having to comfort you. I don't have the energy for that. Try this instead, "My entire family has been thinking about you and how difficult this must be. Please know that we care about you and want to help if we can."
8. Don't be afraid to say my son's name. There isn't a moment that goes by that I am not thinking about him. Knowing that other people still think about him is a good thing. If you are thinking of Johnny say, "I was thinking about your little guy the other day, if you ever want to talk about him, I would love to listen."
9. Do not say "At least you have Maizy." Please go look at your children. Report back to me which one of them is disposable. Of course, I am grateful that I have my daughter. I am beyond grateful that I have all of my children. That does not for one second take away from my pain at losing Johnny. Say this instead, "How are the kids? Do you think they might like to go to the park? Would you like me to come by and hang out with them for a little while so that you could take a nap?"
10. Don't try to imply that I, or any other parent who has lost a child is responsible for the death of their child. Every single one of us lives with guilt and shame every day even if it is totally undeserved. We don't need any help with that. This is not the time to say, "This is why I <insert did surrogacy domestically, don't vaccinate, used xyz product, etc> If you need to congratulate yourself on what an amazing parent you are and reassure yourself that what happened to me will never happen to you- Do it on your own time. Say this instead: "I am so incredibly sorry."
Thursday, March 12, 2015
Kim Waters Hendrix & Complete Surrogacy Solutions Review and Complaint: Client Confidentiality
As I’ve written before, client confidentiality is a fundamental part of any professional surrogacy agency, facilitator, etc… Surrogacy facilitators have access to financial information, medical information and are frequently given significant amounts of personal information by their clients.
There were many times during my relationship with Kim where she shared information with me, that in retrospect was inappropriate. I should not know about the couple who had to terminate their much wanted pregnancy at 13 weeks due to fetal abnormality, nor should I know anything about the sperm quality of several of my Facebook friends.
That’s why when I found out that Kim was sharing my information with other people I wasn’t surprised. Hurt, yes. Surprised? No. One of the first people to let me know that this was going on was Paul McDavy. Frankly, if he had been the only one and it had been an isolated issue, I probably would not be writing this post today.
Posting information (and inaccurate information at that) about our struggle to get records on my Facebook wall? Not appropriate. Sharing even more information with a prospective client? Not professional.
I confronted her about this in January:
One would have thought that this would have ended the matter. However, it's very clear now that this pattern- which was going on throughout our pregnancy and after our son died has continued.
She admits that she knew John wasn't well, although she and Bakshi repeatedly assured Drew and I that no oxygen deprivation had taken place. Additionally, she fails to share that while she offered to go to Delhi it was with the understanding that Drew and I were footing the bill.
Sharing details of our financial situation is not appropriate. Additionally, we were being told that Adiva was a good hospital, there was no oxygen deprivation and no reason to move him unless we wanted to do so for the sake of doing it. Given the information we had at time we made the decision to leave John where he was until I got there. Had we been told that Adiva was not qualified to care for him, we would have moved him, regardless of cost.
Kim had absolutely no right to share the ongoing issues we were having in terms of getting the records or my other concerns.
John died of HIE and Klebsiella pneumonia. HIE is not genetic, nor is pneumonia. HIE is caused by oxygen deprivation at birth. Secondly, the genetic issue that our six year old has is not carried on the Y chromosome, it's maternally inherited...which is why we used an egg donor. Lastly, it is absolutely unfathomable that any person calling themselves a professional would feel this kind of disclosure is appropriate.
I am also aware that Kim has also emailed clients, sharing her version of our tragedy and requesting that those clients give her positive reviews. The fact that she has recruited other "professionals" not involved with our case to help her do this is even more disturbing. While it's certainly her right to ask people for testimonials, the fact that she is continuing to share our personal, private information, despite our repeated requests that she not do so is disgusting.
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Complete Surrogacy Solutions: You had ONE JOB - by Drew
I’ve been an IT professional for almost 10 years now. I’ve been in my current job for a little over
a year, and its been a new experience for me, as I’ve moved into a sysadmin
role. I very much enjoy my job, and I’d
like to think I’m doing well in it. If
someone comes to me with a problem, I am straightforward about my ability to
fix it, as well as how much time I think it’ll take. If I misrepresent either, I’m not only making
myself look bad, but my whole team’s appearance suffers. In a similar vein, when dealing with vendor
support teams, I need to be honest about my knowledge and experience in order
for them to best know how to assist me.
If I were to claim I knew more than I did, I’d actually impede the
process of resolving my problem.
When the disasters with our travel visas and our twins’
birth happened, I don’t doubt that on some level, Kim believes she did
everything she could to help us. The
ultimate reality is she accomplished nothing that helped us. One reason for this is that I believe that
Kim, for all of her projected confidence, amiability, bluster, and bravado,
doesn’t have any influence on the actual surrogacy process. At the very least, she doesn’t have as much
as she thinks she does. Here is how I
came to this conclusion.
Point 1 - Kim did not seem to have any substantial
relationships with the professionals in India, and didn’t appear to have invested
in the ones she may have had.
Until she went there
after we’d returned home, Kim hadn’t traveled to India since the birth of her
‘nephews’ back in May of 2013. We know
this, because said so on her Facebook page.
At the very least, despite promising us that she would, she never
visited India while our surrogate was pregnant.
As a result, she never saw the conditions at Adiva Hospital. If she had, one would think that different
decisions about Adiva’s/Bakshi’s viability as a partner would have been made
well before we became her actual
clients.
In all fairness, Kim
did communicate with Bakshi’s office via Skype.
I know this happened at least once, as she was on a Skype call with them
at the same time that I was at Bakshi’s clinic filling out our initial
paperwork in November of 2014, and I saw her myself. Even if that happened on a regular basis, if
she never traveled there herself, she missed out on a tremendous opportunity to
cultivate personal and professional relationships.
There are loads
of articles out there that talk about the commuting vs. telecommuting debate
that many businesses contend with on a regular basis. As an IT professional, I get asked about it,
and contend with it, frequently. I have
a very pleasant working relationship with my colleague in Delhi, but I had only
ever talked to him over Skype. While I
was in Delhi in October, though, I managed to meet him for the first time, took
a tour of the Delhi office, and met a few of the other people who work
there. I thoroughly enjoyed doing
so. No longer was “the Delhi office”
just a conceptual place to me, I could picture it. I felt much more connected to my colleague,
and he and I were able to talk about things that didn’t have anything to do
with the work that we did together. That
deepened and broadened our relationship.
Seeing the responses
and reactions that Kim’s emails to Bakshi and her staff received as compared to
ours, I didn’t see any real difference.
As far as we could tell, Kim seemed to be just another American emailing
them with questions. Skype is a great
tool to promote connectivity with business entities in remote locations, but
without that personal touch - meeting them in person, shaking their hand,
exchanging pleasantries, etc. - a relationship can only be built so far. Only so much a rapport can really be established. Even though she was a facilitator, Kim didn’t
seem to have any more of a relationship with Dr. Bakshi and her staff than we
did in the beginning.
Point 2 - Kim never took an active role in our surrogacy
journey
Once we’d signed on
with her, Kim sent us several documents about packages, pricing, etc. One of them was a pre-natal schedule, which
supposedly outlined when our surrogate would have checkups, ultrasounds, and
the like. Once we were pregnant, it
seemed our entire lives revolved around how far along we were, and how long
that meant we had to wait until we got the next ultrasound pictures.
Almost right off the
bat, we had to ask Kim when the next scheduled scan was going to take place and
why there were delays. It didn’t take us
long to stop going through Kim entirely and ask Dr. Bakshi directly about the
scans. As a facilitator, Kim’s job was
supposed to be preventing us from having to do that.
We were entirely
focused on the ultrasounds, as they were the only link we had to our developing
twins. As the IPs, this should be
entirely unsurprising. In retrospect,
however, this was a mistake on our part.
We should have realized that if we had to chase after the clinic to
perform ultrasounds on schedule, then who knows what was going on with our
surrogate’s checkups? We eventually did
get the medical records for our surrogate, but by then all the damage was
done. Had we asked for these records during
the pregnancy, we could have voiced our concerns about Mrs. S’s rising blood
pressure and anemia. Rhy did voice some concerns about Mrs. S’s
risk of developing gestational diabetes, but was shamed into silence. This happened more than once. While it would have been good for Kim and Dr.
Bakshi to at least hear out her concerns, it would have been ideal for them to
have been proactively addressed.
But again, this was
supposed to be Kim’s job as our facilitator to ask for and obtain those records. By being the one who was supposed to monitor
the surrogate’s health status, she was supposed to be allowing us to focus on
those precious ultrasound pictures.
Instead, all we got were assurances that we were having the ‘picture
perfect’ twin pregnancy. Basic
monitoring of our surrogate’s health should have made it quite clear that this
was not the case.
Another set of
promises that Kim made to us was that she could help us get what we needed
during our stay in Delhi. She had
supposedly negotiated a special rate for her clients at the Hilton Garden Inn. She had a deal with a local driver and his
fleet. Her package and pricing material
even claimed that she would get us an Indian cellphone. While we remarked to her at the time that an
Indian cellphone would be considered quite valuable when we traveled there, we
never heard any offer or mention of it again.
We did not initially
stay at the Hilton when we arrived in Delhi.
My colleague at work recommended one that my fellow Seattle-based
employees stay at when they travel to Delhi.
While it was very close to Adiva Hospital, it wasn’t as good a hotel as
the Hilton was supposed to be. So we
asked Kim to help us make arrangements for her reduced rate at the Hilton for
the remainder of our stay. It was then
that we learned that her ‘contact,’ with whom she’d supposedly negotiated the
reduced rate for her clients, had left the Hilton for another job, and had left
some number of months prior to our arrival.
This is something that, if she were actively managing her relationships
in India, she would have known well in advance of our arrival. So in the end, we had to pay full price.
Before we even left
for Delhi, Kim asked Rhy to check in on another couple’s surrogate for
her. Personally, the fact that she had
the gall to ask that of us infuriated me.
Our son, after all, had just died.
Rhy, however, was smart - Given that we were already upset with the
level of effort Kim had put out on our behalf, if she checked on this
surrogate, then that couple could be assured of a thorough, honest evaluation
of the surrogate’s condition. In
exchange for Rhy essentially doing Kim’s job for her, Kim offered to pay for
one of our nights at the Hilton. Even
then, she’d only made those arrangements after I reminded her to do so twice.
She also gave us no
assistance with obtaining our exit visas, despite that being one of the most
important parts of her self-written job description. The documents we’d need, the steps we’d have
to take once we’d arrived at the FRRO, even the appointment itself were all
arranged by Poonam Jain, a consultant in Delhi who has helped many intended
parents leave India with their babies, and someone who had worked in the US
consulate for many years. Thanks to her,
we were able to get in and out of the FRRO with our exit visas in about 2 hours. All we had heard from Kim on this subject
were horror stories she’d read about online, which involved couples forced to
make multiple trips to the FRRO over several days, and in some cases
weeks. “Try to stay calm and give them
whatever they ask for,” comprises the sum of her ‘advice’ to us.
While we were at the
FRRO, we learned that the rules had changed regarding medical visas for
surrogacy that required us to register with the FRRO upon our arrival. We didn’t know this, and because the rule
change came so close to our arrival, the FRRO agents allowed us to leave
despite this oversight. I understand
that rules can change often, but rules such as these are ones that Kim should
have been keeping extremely close track of.
Despite us informing her of these changes, she did not pass this information
on to another pair of intended parents, and as a result, they had multiple
issues obtaining their exit visas, one of which was caused by this rule change.
Conclusion: Kim would seem to have very little to no
influence in India.
When Johnny died the
day before Rhy’s flight to Delhi was set to depart, we sent multiple emails to
Kim, the US Consulate, and Dr. Bakshi’s team, pleading with them to save a lock
of his hair, or take a handprint or footprint for us, as they would serve to be
the only physical link we’d have to his 10 days of life. We have since learned that the way Indian
culture handles the death of a child/infant is much different than the way it
is handled here in the US, both from a medical and cultural standpoint. To judge another culture through the lens of
one’s own is the height of ignorance, so I want to make clear that this is NOT
what we are doing. Given that, though, I
would presume that one would be hard pressed to find someone, regardless of
cultural background, that would find our request unreasonable. Yet when Kim made our request to Dr. Bakshi
and her staff on our behalf, the answer we received is that it simply could not
be done. While we were never told why
this was the case, here is what I see this is a symptom of, and the point that
I have been building towards for the last 3 pages.
Kim was a
facilitator who was sending intended parents to Dr. Bakshi’s clinic. In short, Kim was supposedly helping Dr.
Bakshi make quite a bit of money. Kim appeared
to only maintain digital lines of communication with her, and did not
participate actively in the surrogacies that she was responsible for. As a result, despite the basis of their
relationship, it would seem that Dr. Bakshi did not see her relationship with
Kim to be important enough to warrant a departure from the standard procedure,
even in the event of a premature infant’s death.
I understand and am fully aware that India is a very
different country than the United States, and has a very different way of doing
things. At the same time, advertising
yourself as a surrogacy facilitator in a country in which you have no ability
to take or influence real actionis, at best, foolhardy. At worst, it is reckless and dangerous. Kim boasted to us early on in the process
that if we were disappointed in Bakshi in any way, Kim would call her up and
‘read her the Riot Act.’ She claimed
that she did this several times over the course of our pregnancy, yet we didn’t
see Dr. Bakshi’s or her staff’s behavior change at all over time. Had Kim actually had any of the influence she
claimed to have, she could have prevented the death of our son and the
infection of our daughter with an STD.
At the absolute minimum, she could have avoided having a set of grieving
parents end up with no physical remembrance of their son, which is one of the
worst things for the grieving parents of an infant to have inflicted upon them. We continue to hope that no set of parents
ever experiences anything like this as a result of trusting someone they
shouldn’t have.
Saturday, February 28, 2015
It has come to my attention that this blog does "not paint me in a very positive light".
Allow me to clarify. Because I trusted the wrong people my youngest son died alone, in a filthy hospital of a bacteria transmitted by human shit. I wake up every morning and have to confront that fact. It is the last thing I think about at night. Regardless of what strangers on the internet think of me, it is NOTHING compared to how I feel about my failure to protect my son.
Secondly, you are welcome to call me culturally intolerant because I have an issue with the quality of health care my child received. Rest assured I have spoken to several doctors in India. All of them were horrified by the conditions at the hospital, etc.... This is an example of derailing. It's used as a way to deflect attention away from the topic at hand.
Prior to threatening someone with a libel or slander suit, I would suggest that you familiarize yourself with protected speech. For those who have not yet mastered the art of Goggle-fu
negative review/ tos
https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20140924/16444828628/roca-labs-sues-customer-posting-negative-review.shtml
Allow me to clarify. Because I trusted the wrong people my youngest son died alone, in a filthy hospital of a bacteria transmitted by human shit. I wake up every morning and have to confront that fact. It is the last thing I think about at night. Regardless of what strangers on the internet think of me, it is NOTHING compared to how I feel about my failure to protect my son.
Secondly, you are welcome to call me culturally intolerant because I have an issue with the quality of health care my child received. Rest assured I have spoken to several doctors in India. All of them were horrified by the conditions at the hospital, etc.... This is an example of derailing. It's used as a way to deflect attention away from the topic at hand.
Prior to threatening someone with a libel or slander suit, I would suggest that you familiarize yourself with protected speech. For those who have not yet mastered the art of Goggle-fu
negative review/ tos
https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20140924/16444828628/roca-labs-sues-customer-posting-negative-review.shtml
Friday, February 27, 2015
Complete Surrogacy Solutions/ Kim Hendrix. Review and Complaint #1
There is one issue I want to talk about today. The first is that
Kim seems to be telling people that Drew and I were not her clients.
It is true that Drew and I did not pay Kim her 8000.00 client fee. When we first connected with Kim, she told us that she would waive this fee because as a new facilitator, it would be helpful to her to have us as clients. We had received quite a lot of media exposure as a result of the issues with Planet Hospital and therefore would be in a position to make referrals to her. I made numerous referrals to Kim throughout our surrogacy. She introduced me to several people at the Families through Surrogacy conference as her client and frequently asked me to write references for her to prospective clients.
Additionally, I am aware that she was given a 10% referral fee from Dr. Bakshi.
Therefore she was paid both monetarily and in kind.
If Kim was NOT my facilitator, why did Dr. Bakshi only communicate with her when my children were being born? Why was she given our medical records? Why was she involved in invoicing payments to the clinic?
Kim, you can't only take credit for the successes. That's not how this works. It's not how it works at all.
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
What made John disposable and Maizy ignorable?
I'm seeing a parade of cute babies who were born as a result of surrogacy in India and Thailand. Babies whose parents were helped by Kim Waters Hendrix.
They are really darling.
Looking at them made me sad though. What made those parents and those babies more valuable than mine? Does their existence somehow negate my children and their suffering? Understand, I am very very glad that those families did not experience what we did. But there experience does not negate ours.
John deserved better than this. He was loved and cherished by his family.
Mae deserved to have appropriate medical care. She deserved a relationship with her brother.
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
Surrogate medical care matters..
Drew and I choose to have a "facilitator" involved not once, but twice because we knew we didn't have the ability to effectively vet and monitor a clinic on the other side of the planet. Our facilitator told us that she traveled to India frequently to check on surrogates and make that they were being well taken care of. During the entire year we were involved with her, she made trips to Thailand and Mexico. She did not travel to India during our surrogate's pregnancy. When she finally went there after one of her trips to Thailand, we were appalled to find out that it was the first time she had been since the birth of her nephews- who were almost two years old.
Prenatal care is absolutely critical to the health and safety of babies. We were assured repeatedly that our surrogate would have the absolute best care. Unfortunately, it doesn't appear that was the case.
A cursory look at our surrogate's medical records indicates that she was tested for iron deficiency on four different occasions. On three of those occasions, she tested as anemic. Despite those test results and despite the fact that she was complaining of dizziness and fatigue, there is no evidence in the chart that this was ever treated. Anemia in pregnancy increases the risk of post-partum hemorrhage which can be fatal. It's also dangerous to the developing fetus and increases the risk of developmental delay.
Despite supplementation, which started when I arrived in India, Maizy was anemic at her first pediatrician appointment in the US. Our pediatrician says this is an indication of just how anemic she was at birth. Her pediatrician believes that her anemia may have contributed to her seizure. Only time will tell if she will experience developmental delay as a result. This was entirely preventable.
In the beginning of the pregnancy, our surrogate had low to normal blood pressure. However, from twenty weeks on it appears that her blood pressure rose steadily at each appointment. By the time she delivered the twins, the hospital records indicate that she had pre-eclampsia. The chart indicates that Mrs. S was complaining of dizziness, headache and visual disturbance. Despite these clear indications, the clinic did not do a 24 hour urine collection, which would have confirmed the diagnosis. While she was observed in the hospital overnight at one point there is no indication that they did anything other than give her some fluids. Pre-clampsia is a very serious medical condition - left untreated it can result in seizures, stroke and even death. It seems that they did nothing other than record the fact that this was happening. The fact that our surrogate survived appears to be a result of luck more than anything else. When we confronted our facilitator and the doctor about this, they denied that it was a problem.
We were not the only clients who were concerned that our facilitator had not made the promised trips to India for surrogate monitoring. When these concerns were brought up to her, she became very defensive and angry and talked about how she needed to make her family a priority.
If Mrs. S was the only surrogate whose health and safety was put into jeopardy, I could understand why someone might think that our situation was an aberration. Unfortunately, I know that this is not the case. I can't speculate as to why a facilitator would continue to refer clients to a clinic where two clients in three months experienced serious complications for their surrogates and their babies. I don't want to believe that the referral fees are what motivated her, perhaps she genuinely believes that this care was appropriate.
We wanted an independent facilitator because we wanted someone to advocate not only for our family, but also for our surrogate. Our facilitator and our doctor likely feel very differently about our journey than we do. Regardless of how anyone feels the facts are this:
•My surrogate had more than one health condition that was not managed appropriately
•My daughter has ongoing health issues directly related to those issues, her prematurity and the facility where she was born.
•My son died.
As an aside, another surrogacy facilitator, not the one we used, threatened to take legal action against me because she didn't like what I've said on this blog. For the record, nothing I have said here constitutes libel or slander.
She also told me "Your blog does NOT paint you in a positive light."
My child died. The last thing on my mind is what other people think of me. Lastly- bullying a grieving mother says a hell of a lot more about you than it does her.
Monday, January 19, 2015
Visa Hell
This post was written by my husband, Drew. To this day no one from CKGS has ever acknowledged the reality that our son died alone because they refused to give us our visas.
Through all of our research into Indian surrogacy, we’d heard plenty of horror stories about the visa application process under both BLS (who ‘handled’ my visa for my first trip in November ’13) and CKGS, who took over from BLS in May ’14, supposedly after BLS just got buried in complaints. We budgeted three months to get our applications in and maneuver through whatever obstacles would arise and still allow us to make our flights as intended. So on August 13, 2014, we took all of our forms and piles of supporting documentation and sent them off. As you probably know, things didn’t quite go as planned.
A week went by, and we didn’t even get a confirmation of receipt from CKGS. I emailed their support staff, and the case was escalated by the following day. While we already had our first obstacle fresh out of the gate, it was at least getting a level of response that was reassuring. Another week passes, and since that initial escalation, we again had received no updates from CKGS. So I emailed them again. The following day, we got notified that:
- I had applied for the ‘wrong’ visa. On the advice of our facilitator, I had applied for a medical visa, but should have applied for a medical attendant visa.
In all fairness, this did make sense. Rhy applied for a medical visa, since she was technically the ‘patient,’ and I would be accompanying her. I re-did the application form and sent it to CKGS within a week.
- The photographs we sent (I will call these Photo Set #1) were deemed inadequate.
This would be the same picture of us that were used on our visas the first time around. But were now not acceptable. For reasons.
- Our payment was short by $5 each.
This sent me through the roof. I used CKGS’s website:
A week went by, and we didn’t even get a confirmation of receipt from CKGS. I emailed their support staff, and the case was escalated by the following day. While we already had our first obstacle fresh out of the gate, it was at least getting a level of response that was reassuring. Another week passes, and since that initial escalation, we again had received no updates from CKGS. So I emailed them again. The following day, we got notified that:
- I had applied for the ‘wrong’ visa. On the advice of our facilitator, I had applied for a medical visa, but should have applied for a medical attendant visa.
In all fairness, this did make sense. Rhy applied for a medical visa, since she was technically the ‘patient,’ and I would be accompanying her. I re-did the application form and sent it to CKGS within a week.
- The photographs we sent (I will call these Photo Set #1) were deemed inadequate.
This would be the same picture of us that were used on our visas the first time around. But were now not acceptable. For reasons.
- Our payment was short by $5 each.
This sent me through the roof. I used CKGS’s website:
and their order form to arrive at the amount that EACH application would need.
Per the instructions that came from the auto-generated email, I attached a new set of photographs (Photo Set #2) and sent them to the two addresses I had for CKGS’s San Francisco operations. I then proceeded to call CKGS directly about the fee dispute. Over the course of the next week or so, I spoke to several different people about what their website listed as the fees required and the amount that I sent. ALL of them agreed that what I sent was appropriate.
Just after Labor Day, I am again told that the photos we sent did not meet the consulate’s requirements. Furthermore, I was informed that photographs for visa applications weren’t accepted via email, and that physical copies were required. While I fumed at this person that their generated email SAID that I could, I hastily compiled Photo Set #3 and mailed it in.
By this point, it had been three weeks and there had been ZERO forward momentum on getting our visas. That’s three weeks that we are not in possession of our passports.
For the next three subsequent weeks, I make more phone calls. I send more emails. Rhy even joins in on the fun. (And even makes one phone monkey cry!) We get alternating stories: on one day, our applications were at the consulate being evaluated. Another day, our applications are still at CKGS awaiting that final $5 before being sent out. Each time they try to say that, I point out what their own website lists for the fees, and am told that the amount that I sent is correct. Eventually, we get fed up and start to reach out to the US Consulate in Delhi and the Indian Consulate in San Francisco, pleading for help. We simply couldn’t keep doing the same things over and over again and expect the results to be any different.
Finally, with six full weeks gone by since the applications were originally sent, we get an email from CKGS that essentially says “Please resend us digital copies of everything that you sent us hard copies of.”
I started to freak. This, combined with the inconsistent stories, made me afraid that they’d lost our applications and/or our passports and were stringing us along to buy time to find them. If we not only had to start from scratch with the application process, but also obtain emergency replacements of our passports, not only would we have to give up any hope making our flight, but pay through our noses in additional fees. While they assured us that they still had our passports, they never did give us an explanation as to why we had to send them everything all over again.
Thankfully, I’d scanned each and every page that we had to send to CKGS. This allowed me to simply attach everything to a couple of emails, so I (re) sent them to CKGS that same day. The following day, we were told that our passports would be sent on to the consulate “on Monday.”
Monday comes and goes and we don’t hear anything about where our visas are, so we resume the phone call/email barrage. What we were met with was ANOTHER request for visa photographs. So we compile and send Photo Set #4, with our level of anxiety rising with each passing day.
On the evening of October 10, Pacific Time, as I was driving across the state to spend the weekend with Rhy and the kids, she calls me in hysterics. Our twins were being born. Despite the fact that we had sent our visa applications two months earlier, Maizy and John were in New Delhi and we were trapped in the United States. On top of that, we seemed to be no closer to getting our visas than we were in August. At the time, it was our worst nightmare.
Despite the fact that it was the weekend, we emailed everyone and their brother’s dog, pleading for updates and begging for action to be taken. On Tuesday, we were contacted by Henry Lindpere, a manager at CKGS. He informed us that the reason our applications hadn’t been sent to the consulate yet was because our payments were short by $5 each. I gave him the same figures from the same forms that I had given the half-dozen phone techs I’d spoken to, but he insisted that nothing would happen until our account was settled. With John’s health already precarious, we did the only thing we could and sent CKGS the money. We still do not know what the money was for.
The day after they received the money, we got another email saying that our photos were again not acceptable. Desperate to get to our son and daughter, we went out and paid for someone to physically take the pictures for us, making this the FIFTH set of photos we had to send to them. Up to this point, we’d been using an app on our phones suggested to us by our surrogacy coordinator, Kim Hendrix. Throughout the issues we encountered with CKGS and our photos, she kept telling us to use the app, as it would be faster and cheaper than getting them physically taken.
We then emailed them to our friend A., who printed them out and took time off of work to hand deliver them at the CKGS office in San Francisco. The photos were delivered to CKGS at about noon that day, and delivered to the consulate in short order. In what had to be an Indian bureaucratic speed record, our visas were approved and were FedExed back to us (after paying CKGS even MORE money, but I digress) by the end of that same business day. It was wonderful news to hear on my birthday - we’d get our passports the following Monday, Rhy would be on a plane for Delhi Tuesday morning, and 24 hours later, she’d be with our babies. There was a light at the end of the darkest tunnel we’ve ever been through together.
We watched for the FedEx truck with more anticipation than two children on Christmas Eve. When he finally comes, we tear open the envelope to see these visas with our own eyes. What we saw was initially confusing: the photos that were on the visas weren’t from Photo Set #5, the ones that our friend Avi had delivered to CKGS personally. Instead, the consulate used Photo Set #3, which had been sent to CKGS nearly SIX WEEKS earlier. We contemplated sending emails to both CKGS and the consulate to express our bewilderment and anger, but decided it wouldn’t accomplish or fix anything. So we jumped in the car and headed for Seattle - Rhy had a flight to catch, after all!
As we were driving, we got a call from the doctor in India - After 10 days of life, and having had to fight for each and every one, our beloved son, John P. H. Morrigan was dead, having never met the parents who loved him.
It took us two and a half months to get our visas through CKGS, which is just about what we had allotted. But as I said in the beginning, things didn’t quite go as planned. After weeks of unnecessary delays, we got our passports back on the day that our son died. Even if we had gotten our passports back in September (when we sent in Photo Set #3), it may or may not have had an impact on whether or not John would have survived. It would have, at the absolute least, given him a fighting chance, as we could have gotten Rhy on a plane immediately and she could have pushed for a medical evacuation to either another hospital in Delhi or all the way back to Seattle Children’s. But even a single day’s worth of saved time would have allowed Rhy to have held John before the end.
Over the course of those two and a half months, our anxiety, frustration, and anger rose. As time wore on and we encountered problem after problem, we reached out to Kim Hendrix, the US Consulate in Delhi, and the Indian Consulate in San Francisco. Ultimately, none of them were able to help. We finally reached out to our local senator’s office in the desperate hope that her office could help apply some pressure, so perhaps that speed record I mentioned was made possible in part to that pressure. But for 99.9% of this ordeal, we were forced to deal with this monstrous situation completely on our own.
Over time, I will learn to integrate the tragic loss of my son into my everyday being, despite the fact that he died without ever having met his mother or me. But what I am still bitter about is that while his death may or may not have been preventable, him dying alone WAS, and it is because CKGS screwed up in more ways that I can count that he did.
And I will ALWAYS be bitter about that.
Just after Labor Day, I am again told that the photos we sent did not meet the consulate’s requirements. Furthermore, I was informed that photographs for visa applications weren’t accepted via email, and that physical copies were required. While I fumed at this person that their generated email SAID that I could, I hastily compiled Photo Set #3 and mailed it in.
By this point, it had been three weeks and there had been ZERO forward momentum on getting our visas. That’s three weeks that we are not in possession of our passports.
For the next three subsequent weeks, I make more phone calls. I send more emails. Rhy even joins in on the fun. (And even makes one phone monkey cry!) We get alternating stories: on one day, our applications were at the consulate being evaluated. Another day, our applications are still at CKGS awaiting that final $5 before being sent out. Each time they try to say that, I point out what their own website lists for the fees, and am told that the amount that I sent is correct. Eventually, we get fed up and start to reach out to the US Consulate in Delhi and the Indian Consulate in San Francisco, pleading for help. We simply couldn’t keep doing the same things over and over again and expect the results to be any different.
Finally, with six full weeks gone by since the applications were originally sent, we get an email from CKGS that essentially says “Please resend us digital copies of everything that you sent us hard copies of.”
I started to freak. This, combined with the inconsistent stories, made me afraid that they’d lost our applications and/or our passports and were stringing us along to buy time to find them. If we not only had to start from scratch with the application process, but also obtain emergency replacements of our passports, not only would we have to give up any hope making our flight, but pay through our noses in additional fees. While they assured us that they still had our passports, they never did give us an explanation as to why we had to send them everything all over again.
Thankfully, I’d scanned each and every page that we had to send to CKGS. This allowed me to simply attach everything to a couple of emails, so I (re) sent them to CKGS that same day. The following day, we were told that our passports would be sent on to the consulate “on Monday.”
Monday comes and goes and we don’t hear anything about where our visas are, so we resume the phone call/email barrage. What we were met with was ANOTHER request for visa photographs. So we compile and send Photo Set #4, with our level of anxiety rising with each passing day.
On the evening of October 10, Pacific Time, as I was driving across the state to spend the weekend with Rhy and the kids, she calls me in hysterics. Our twins were being born. Despite the fact that we had sent our visa applications two months earlier, Maizy and John were in New Delhi and we were trapped in the United States. On top of that, we seemed to be no closer to getting our visas than we were in August. At the time, it was our worst nightmare.
Despite the fact that it was the weekend, we emailed everyone and their brother’s dog, pleading for updates and begging for action to be taken. On Tuesday, we were contacted by Henry Lindpere, a manager at CKGS. He informed us that the reason our applications hadn’t been sent to the consulate yet was because our payments were short by $5 each. I gave him the same figures from the same forms that I had given the half-dozen phone techs I’d spoken to, but he insisted that nothing would happen until our account was settled. With John’s health already precarious, we did the only thing we could and sent CKGS the money. We still do not know what the money was for.
The day after they received the money, we got another email saying that our photos were again not acceptable. Desperate to get to our son and daughter, we went out and paid for someone to physically take the pictures for us, making this the FIFTH set of photos we had to send to them. Up to this point, we’d been using an app on our phones suggested to us by our surrogacy coordinator, Kim Hendrix. Throughout the issues we encountered with CKGS and our photos, she kept telling us to use the app, as it would be faster and cheaper than getting them physically taken.
We then emailed them to our friend A., who printed them out and took time off of work to hand deliver them at the CKGS office in San Francisco. The photos were delivered to CKGS at about noon that day, and delivered to the consulate in short order. In what had to be an Indian bureaucratic speed record, our visas were approved and were FedExed back to us (after paying CKGS even MORE money, but I digress) by the end of that same business day. It was wonderful news to hear on my birthday - we’d get our passports the following Monday, Rhy would be on a plane for Delhi Tuesday morning, and 24 hours later, she’d be with our babies. There was a light at the end of the darkest tunnel we’ve ever been through together.
We watched for the FedEx truck with more anticipation than two children on Christmas Eve. When he finally comes, we tear open the envelope to see these visas with our own eyes. What we saw was initially confusing: the photos that were on the visas weren’t from Photo Set #5, the ones that our friend Avi had delivered to CKGS personally. Instead, the consulate used Photo Set #3, which had been sent to CKGS nearly SIX WEEKS earlier. We contemplated sending emails to both CKGS and the consulate to express our bewilderment and anger, but decided it wouldn’t accomplish or fix anything. So we jumped in the car and headed for Seattle - Rhy had a flight to catch, after all!
As we were driving, we got a call from the doctor in India - After 10 days of life, and having had to fight for each and every one, our beloved son, John P. H. Morrigan was dead, having never met the parents who loved him.
It took us two and a half months to get our visas through CKGS, which is just about what we had allotted. But as I said in the beginning, things didn’t quite go as planned. After weeks of unnecessary delays, we got our passports back on the day that our son died. Even if we had gotten our passports back in September (when we sent in Photo Set #3), it may or may not have had an impact on whether or not John would have survived. It would have, at the absolute least, given him a fighting chance, as we could have gotten Rhy on a plane immediately and she could have pushed for a medical evacuation to either another hospital in Delhi or all the way back to Seattle Children’s. But even a single day’s worth of saved time would have allowed Rhy to have held John before the end.
Over the course of those two and a half months, our anxiety, frustration, and anger rose. As time wore on and we encountered problem after problem, we reached out to Kim Hendrix, the US Consulate in Delhi, and the Indian Consulate in San Francisco. Ultimately, none of them were able to help. We finally reached out to our local senator’s office in the desperate hope that her office could help apply some pressure, so perhaps that speed record I mentioned was made possible in part to that pressure. But for 99.9% of this ordeal, we were forced to deal with this monstrous situation completely on our own.
Over time, I will learn to integrate the tragic loss of my son into my everyday being, despite the fact that he died without ever having met his mother or me. But what I am still bitter about is that while his death may or may not have been preventable, him dying alone WAS, and it is because CKGS screwed up in more ways that I can count that he did.
And I will ALWAYS be bitter about that.
Monday, January 12, 2015
Professional Standards for International Surrogacy Professionals: Part 2 Qualifications and Conflict of Interest
My husband and I chose to use a surrogacy facilitator not once, but twice. One of the primary reasons we made that choice was the recognition of our limitations in terms of evaluating a medical facility on the other side of the planet. In retrospect, we should have recognized that those same limitations applied to the facilitator.
Most international surrogacy agents do not have degrees in the health care field; it’s probably not reasonable to expect them to. However, absent accreditation by a credible third party like the International Joint Commission, it seems unlikely that the average layperson has the ability to evaluate doctors or facilities in a foreign country. Given our experience, a hospital that does not adhere to the standards set by the joint commission is not a hospital I would feel comfortable using for high risk pregnancies or infants. To find out if a hospital meets these standards, click here.
The fact that a medical facility has a nice website or that it “looks” clean doesn’t mean that it adheres to international standards for patient safety.
At the same time, if a facility cannot maintain the most basic standards for cleanliness, it seems extremely unlikely they would have the capacity to prevent the spread of infection. In a country like India, where antibiotic resistant bacteria kill fifty-eight thousand babies every year it should be obvious why this is critically important.
The second and equally concerning issue is the conflict of interest in the relationship between facilitators and clinics. Facilitators frequently receive referral fees from the doctor/clinic. This is problematic for reasons that I think are pretty clear. At the very least, transparency would seem to require that this relationship be disclosed.
There are hospitals in New Delhi that meet the standards set by the Joint Commission. Again, you can find them here. I would not feel safe using a doctor who delivered at a hospital that did not meet these standards. If my agency or facilitator was recommending that I go forward with surrogacy in a country where there were no facilities accredited by the International Joint Commission, knowing what I know now, I would not be comfortable taking that risk with my baby.
Losing a child is one of the single most devastating things that has ever happened to my family. Sharing our experience has opened me up to vitriol from strangers and from people I used to call friends. I’ve been threatened with legal retaliation and told that this blog “does not paint me in a positive light.” What those people don’t seem to understand is this: My beloved son died. The last thing I’m worried about is other people’s opinions. Frankly, I don't deserve to be painted in a positive light because I failed my son by being arrogant enough to think that I had the ability to protect him from half a world away. Telling my story isn’t easy. It shouldn't be, but it’s the only way I can think of to say this:
“Johnny, Mommy is so very, very sorry.”
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