Australians yearning to start a family are increasingly venturing overseas for surrogacy, navigating markets that can be fraught with danger, exorbitant costs, and ethical quandaries. This reality prompts a vital question: Is it time for a national conversation about compensating surrogates within Australia?
The journey for Lewis and Edward, spanning both physical distance and emotional landscapes, has culminated in a joyous reunion at Melbourne Airport. Despite a long-haul flight with their newborns, 10-week-old Flora and 16-week-old Quinto, the couple radiates an infectious energy, embraced by eagerly awaiting family. Their arrival marks the end of a two-year quest that began with a trip to Colombia, seeking to build their family through surrogacy.
“There have been countless hurdles,” Lewis shares, reflecting on the “one thousand and one processes” they’ve navigated. “But we’re just incredibly happy to be back home.” Their initial exploration of domestic surrogacy options in Australia proved challenging.
The Australian Altruistic Model: Roadblocks for Many
Australia operates under an altruistic surrogacy model. This means surrogates cannot receive financial compensation, though they are permitted reimbursement for out-of-pocket expenses. These include medical costs, IVF procedures, travel, and lost income.
Edward explains the inherent difficulty: “If you don’t have someone within your immediate circle of friends or family who can be a surrogate, finding one becomes nearly impossible.” This limitation often pushes prospective parents to look beyond Australia’s borders.
The Colombian Connection: A Parallel Journey
Lewis and Edward ultimately turned to Colombia, a country that has become a popular destination for same-sex couples pursuing surrogacy. They embarked on what is known as a “parallel journey,” a process where two embryos, derived from the same egg donor, are implanted into two different surrogates concurrently. Lewis is the biological father of Flora, while Edward is the biological father of Quinto. Born just six weeks apart, the infants are as close to surrogacy “twins” as possible.
However, the birth of their children was only one part of a complex international arrangement. International surrogacy can be laden with medical and legal complications, and the assurance of bringing a baby home is far from guaranteed. For weeks after their children’s births, Lewis and Edward remained in Colombia, awaiting the crucial confirmation that Flora and Quinto would be issued Australian passports, enabling their return.
“The moment we received Flora’s confirmation email, a massive wave of relief washed over us,” Lewis recalls. “The mountain of administrative work, rearranging flights, and everything else was finally behind us. We could finally head home.” He likens the experience to “being woken up from a dream.”
Surrogacy: ‘The Only Option’ for Some
Edward and Lewis have made a submission to the Australian Law Reform Commission, which is currently reviewing surrogacy laws for potential amendments. The number of Australians opting for surrogacy is on the rise, despite the inherent difficulties and the lingering stigma. Yet, the overwhelming majority of these births occur overseas.
In the 2023-2024 period, 361 Australian passports were issued to infants born via international surrogacy, a stark contrast to the fewer than 150 babies born domestically through surrogacy each year. For Edward and Lewis, the decision to pursue surrogacy was not taken lightly. They had previously fostered children and had become proud uncles, but their desire to have children of their own intensified.
Lewis recounts how some, without malicious intent but perhaps out of ignorance, would ask, “Did you look at adoption?” He points out that these individuals likely haven’t researched adoption thoroughly, especially international adoption, which is practically non-existent in Australia. “The waitlists are decades long, with thousands of potential parents vying for each child,” he explains. “So, surrogacy becomes the only viable option, and for us, international surrogacy was the only path.”
While their experience was ultimately positive, it was protracted, intricate, and exceptionally expensive. “It reached the $200,000 mark,” Lewis states, “and that’s before even factoring in flights, accommodation, translation services, DNA tests, and all the other associated costs on top of the creation of the babies.” They express a strong desire for the option to have pursued surrogacy locally.
“Accessing surrogacy locally is incredibly challenging due to the prohibitive measures in place,” Lewis asserts. “The current surrogacy laws in Australia are in dire need of review and a complete overhaul.”
Ethical Dilemmas: When Laws Drive Unintended Consequences
Australia’s surrogacy laws are a complex patchwork, varying significantly from state to state. Some jurisdictions mandate that surrogates must be at least 25 years old or have previously had a child. Advertising for surrogates or offering to be one can be illegal in certain areas. Furthermore, states like Queensland, New South Wales, and the ACT prohibit their residents from engaging in surrogacy arrangements overseas.
However, these laws are frequently flouted. Last year, a Brisbane couple faced allegations of using commercial surrogacy abroad. Despite a police investigation, no charges were laid.
Sarah Jefford, a Melbourne-based lawyer specialising in surrogacy law, observes, “The laws exist to deter people from going overseas, but… it’s simply not working.” She believes the scarcity of available surrogates within Australia is compelling prospective parents to seek out costly and, in some instances, morally questionable arrangements internationally.
“There are very few safeguards for [parents] to ensure a positive outcome, to know their surrogate is genuinely being cared for, or that the practice is truly ethical,” she explains. Jefford highlights concerning practices: “What I’m seeing are companies advertising ‘guaranteed baby programs’ or ‘travelling surrogates,’ where a surrogate relocates to another country to facilitate the surrogacy. Sadly, the other term for this is human trafficking.”
Evie Kendal, a public health scientist at Swinburne University of Technology, echoes these concerns, pointing out that prospective parents can also be exploited within commercial surrogacy arrangements. The international surrogacy industry is inherently precarious, with the constant risk of changing foreign laws leaving families stranded.
The ABC recently reported the distressing story of Perth couple Amy and Jonathan Carr-Knox, who were trapped in Argentina for 12 months, fighting to be legally recognised as the parents of their child born via surrogacy. “The worst-case scenario,” Evie explains, “is an Australian couple believing they’ve fulfilled all requirements, only to discover their baby is ineligible to enter Australia, or that they are not recognised as the child’s legal guardians.”
A ‘Litany of Abuses’: Voices for Abolition
Critics of surrogacy, ranging from radical feminists to religious organisations, argue that the industry is inextricably linked to the exploitation of women and the commodification of children. Surrogacy is illegal in numerous countries, including Germany and Finland. Several Southeast Asian nations have banned foreigners from seeking surrogacy within their borders, while Italy and Spain have prohibited their own citizens from engaging in the practice overseas.
Catherine Lynch, a founding member of Abolish Surrogacy Australia, advocates for a complete ban. “The litany of abuses, exploitations, and crimes associated with surrogacy is immense,” she states. “People often envision surrogacy as a small family affair, a personal struggle. This completely misrepresents the global surrogacy industry, which is a massive trafficking operation exploiting women and babies.”
She argues for a child-centred approach: “If you want to prioritise the child, there’s only one option here: we must abolish surrogacy.” Catherine’s personal experience as a child of forced adoption fuels her conviction. “I was separated from my mother at birth,” she shares. “My human rights were violated.” While acknowledging the distinction between surrogacy and forced adoption, Catherine believes both practices inflict harm. She contends that the severed relationship between surrogate and child has enduring emotional, psychological, and physical repercussions for all involved.
“The question is,” she poses, “can we lead the way for other countries that have abolished surrogacy, or will we traumatise a significant portion of our population, only for them to emerge in 40 years seeking a national apology?”
The Fight for Compensation: Rethinking Altruism
Opponents of commercial surrogacy argue that financial transactions inherently commodify women and children. Catherine Lynch unequivocally states that the practice “cannot be separated from the sale of children.”
Sarah Jefford, who herself served as a surrogate years ago, initially shared this concern. Her decision to carry a child for a couple she met online was not driven by financial gain. “I genuinely loved being pregnant, and my partner and I had completed our family with our two children,” she explains. “So, I liked the idea of using my body to carry a baby for someone else, to give them the opportunity of parenthood.”
However, after years of working as a surrogacy lawyer, representing hundreds of intended parents and surrogates, Jefford’s perspective has evolved. “I’ve come to realise that altruistic surrogacy isn’t necessarily more ethical,” she admits. “You can compensate surrogates without it becoming a sale of a child.” She also acknowledges that while there’s no inherent “right” to have a child, the desperation of intended parents is undeniable and warrants empathy.
Proponents of compensation advocate for paying surrogates not just for the birth, but for the extensive time and effort involved in medical appointments and the duration of the pregnancy. Bioethicist Evie Kendal refers to this as “gestational labour.”
“Most surrogates would describe what they do as a service,” Kendal notes. “So, what’s being compensated is the time and effort, but not the handover of the child at the end.” She clarifies, “If the arrangement is structured such that money changes hands solely at the point of the child’s handover, then it can certainly be misconstrued.”
Kendal draws a critical distinction between commercial surrogacy and regulated compensation. “A commercial model might lead to bidding wars, where one surrogate competes against another for a specific fee,” she explains. “Conversely, a compensated regulatory model, particularly at the federal level, would provide clarity and consistency. Everyone would know the established rates, ensuring safety and predictability.”
Even among those who support compensating Australian surrogates, determining an appropriate financial figure is a complex undertaking, with opinions varying widely. “Some individuals I’ve spoken with suggest around $10,000 a month, which, considering what they are providing, doesn’t seem exorbitant,” Kendal observes. “Others propose $1,000 a week.” She concludes, “What we truly need is a national conversation to establish what that level or range should be.”
The allure of financial gain is a central driver in unethical surrogacy programs worldwide. A recent investigation by The New Yorker exposed a syndicate that trafficked dozens of Thai women to Georgia, confiscated their passports, and withheld promised payments. Kendal acknowledges that financially vulnerable women may be coerced into surrogacy for monetary reasons, but cautions against a paternalistic stance that denies women bodily autonomy. “We need to ensure people understand the risks and that it’s a freely chosen decision,” she stresses. “Striking that balance is incredibly difficult.”
Abolitionists, like Catherine Lynch, maintain that an international ban is the only effective solution. “Regulation alone cannot prevent these harms and the horrific stories, this global trade,” she argues. “It certainly cannot prevent the trauma to a surrogate mother and child from the separation.” She references the work of Reem Alsalem, the UN Special Rapporteur on violence against women and girls, who stated in a 2025 report to the UN General Assembly that surrogacy “reduces women and children, including girls, to mere commodities, stripping them of their equality and dignity and encouraging their exploitation and abuse.”
When Surrogacy Goes Wrong: Internal Pressures and Unforeseen Consequences
Financial incentives are not the sole motivator for women considering surrogacy. Within some families, there can be internal pressure or an unspoken expectation to carry a child for a loved one unable to conceive.
Fiona* (name changed to protect privacy, as identifying individuals in surrogacy arrangements can be legally sensitive in Australia) offered to be a surrogate for her sister following a series of family tragedies. Her mother was diagnosed with brain cancer, and her sister experienced a health scare necessitating a hysterectomy.
Fiona’s plans were initially delayed by the birth of her two children in quick succession. She experienced postnatal depression and wished to postpone the surrogacy but felt an overwhelming obligation to proceed. “It never occurred to me that I could back out,” Fiona recalls. “That would have meant denying them a child. It would have been my choice that they remained childless, and that seemed unthinkable.”
Communication between the sisters became increasingly strained, and Fiona believes that industry professionals missed critical red flags during the vetting process. “The counsellors have little incentive to tell surrogates, ‘No, this isn’t a good idea for you,'” she states. “They don’t want to ‘gatekeep’ parenthood and aren’t inclined to delve deeply into your psychological history.”
As the surrogacy progressed and Fiona became pregnant, her mental health deteriorated sharply. “I believe it came very close to perinatal psychosis,” she reveals. What followed was a complicated and traumatic birth, exacerbated by the rift that had developed between Fiona and her sister and brother-in-law.
While Fiona’s experience represents an extreme case of surrogacy gone awry, she does not oppose the practice outright. However, she strongly advocates for greater awareness among women regarding the potential risks. “You’re not signing up for a fairytale,” she warns. “I’ve spent years grappling with severe trauma and significant mental illness. It has profoundly impacted the last seven years of my life.”
Striking the Right Balance: A Call for a Better System
Crafting surrogacy laws that satisfy everyone is an unenviable task. However, Evie Kendal believes it’s time to re-evaluate whether current legislation adequately serves Australian society. “There will always be extreme cases where things go wrong and individuals are terribly exploited, and we can’t create a perfect law,” she acknowledges. “But our aim is to create something better than what we currently have.”
As Lewis and Edward stroll to their local coffee shop, reflecting on their arduous yet ultimately rewarding journey, they express profound gratitude for the women who dedicated their time and bodies to helping them build their family. “We’re incredibly lucky,” Edward says. “We have two wonderful children, and surrogates who made this possible, with whom we have excellent relationships. We’re now living the dream that so many aspire to.”
He notes that their surrogates view Quinto and Flora as significant figures in their lives, but not as their own children. “We’ll be visiting Colombia every few years so [our children] know who helped grow them and bring them into the world. But we are their dads; we are their family.”
The couple firmly believes that even if surrogates are motivated by a desire to help others, they deserve compensation. This recommendation is included in their submission to the surrogacy law review. “The only scenario where asking a woman to be altruistic and carry a baby without any financial compensation would be equitable is if everyone else involved – the lawyers, IVF clinics, doctors, psychologists – were also working altruistically,” Lewis adds. “Currently, everyone else profits from this multi-billion-dollar industry, except for the woman who bears the highest risk and undertakes the most demanding work.”
The Australian Law Reform Commission is scheduled to deliver its final report to the government by July 29.
