FEATURE: Bundle of joy delivered by a friend

EVA BRADLEY
It's mid-morning and the scene being played out in a Haumoana living room is on repeat across the country. Teletubbies hums in the background, a Thomas the Tank Engine train set lies partially dismantled on the carpet and a toddler talks in jumbled sentences to a patient mum who hangs on every word. It's text-book Happy Families. Nothing unusual - until you discover that the mother, Debbie Te Pania, has spent 27 years trying unsuccessfully to conceive and her two-year-old son, Wiremu, is actually a surrogate child conceived amid extraordinary and heart-warming circumstances. "We call him the turkey baster boy," says Debbie affectionately, as she reaches down to help Wiremu unhook a plastic digger from its trailer. The story of the boy's conception is side-splittingly funny but it is also one of desperation that thousands of infertile couples across the country can identify with. Having given birth at 15 and lost the baby to cot death at two months, Debbie, now 40, has spent her entire adult life trying to repeat her early success. Three IVF fertility treatments and thousands of dollars later, she and husband Russell gave up hope - until best mate Roxy Wall from down the road volunteered her help - and the use of her womb for nine months. "I had reached a stage where I was in a major depression. Roxy and I had been friends for 10 years and she had seen everything I had been through. She asked me how I would feel if she were to carry my baby. "I was 38 and I knew my chances were pretty much gone." With Debbie's eggs unable to be fertilised, Roxy to all intents and purposes, was offering to hand over her own baby to her best friend. A remarkable decision? Not really, says Roxy, 30, who made the decision "on the spur of the moment" and would happily do it again. "I never had any second thoughts. I just knew how lonely they were and it was the only way I could help them. They have wanted (Wiremu) for so long and he is such a cherished little boy." As for handing over her child to someone else - no problem. Roxy is perfectly happy with her only son, Jesse, 10, pleased he has a brother of sorts and giving up her job temporarily, to change the life of her best friends permanently, was a minor inconvenience. The $12,000 to artificially inseminate her with Russell's sperm, however, was not. Unable to afford the procedure, Debbie and Roxy were given some unofficial advice which brought the cost down to precisely $3.48. "We were told to try using a turkey baster. We went to K-Mart in Hastings and had to ask at the service desk what it was. When we saw it, it was so long we just looked at each other and started cracking up," recalls Debbie with a laugh. Nine months later and after only one attempt to conceive, Wiremu was born in a most unconventional surrogacy arrangement. "I cut his umbilical cord and then just brought him home for his first feed," recalls Debbie nostalgically. "I was on cloud nine. Words can't describe it. Our little miracle boy was here and we just couldn't believe our eyes. "I used to cry my eyes out when I saw babies on TV because I knew I would never be called 'Mum'." It is a devastating reality that most women will never be faced with but roughly 90,000 people are dealing with infertility in New Zealand at the moment and the solution - if any - often lies in expensive and invasive treatments. N apier woman Rachael Diffey knows those treatments only too well. After trying for five years to conceive, she and her husband are now proud parents to six-week-old Jessica, but it took expensive and unsuccessful IVF treatment and a two-year wait for an egg donor before they even began to hope. "It's huge. It becomes your life and I don't think people can fully understand that unless they go through it. Having a child is the essence of who you are. If you strip it back to basics, we're here to have kids - it's a physical need if you like - and it eats away at your self esteem and your confidence. "If it's something that you really want it can be devastating when you're told you can't." The region's adviser for Fertility New Zealand, Rachael hopes speaking out will normalise what is often a problem suffered privately by couples who do not realise how common infertility is. "If you have a large group of friends, 15 percent of them are likely to have problems, but because it's to do with sex and reproduction, they don't talk about it." And a problem not talked about ceases to be a problem for those lucky enough not to be affected by it. A shortage of egg donors means the waiting time for those unable to use their own is now up to 10 years - too long for most. Her advice to couples is to seek advice and help as soon as possible to increase the chances of conception. "A lot of people do just ignore it. There is a 'it won't happen to me' attitude but at the end of the day, age isn't always a problem but it is a big factor and the longer you wait, the harder it is." From the age of 25, fertility in women begins to decrease, dropping sharply after 35. And while IVF treatments are between 25-30 percent effective, many couples have more complicated fertility problems that could take years to overcome. "If you have been trying for a year to get pregnant I wouldn't wait any longer and if you're over 35 and trying I would seek advice after six months." Medical director at Fertility Associates in Wellington, John Hutton, travels to Hawke's Bay every four to six weeks for fertility clinics at Royston Hospital. He also warns against complacency and says men especially don't appreciate the implications of declining fertility in women as they age. "There seems to be a perception that the biological clock just keeps on ticking. I compare it to the fact that while men begin to get bald of hair follicles, women at the same time are becoming bald of eggs. It's just not something people think about because they can't see it." With more women choosing to pursue careers and couples opting for financial security before beginning families, the average age of new mothers is around 30 - five years older than in the 1970s. Hand in hand with the increase in age is a marked drop in the size of families - more than four births per woman at the height of the baby boom in 1961 and now just under two. The advances in fertility treatment have extended the timeframe for motherhood, but Dr Hutton warns the cost of waiting can often be irreversibly great. "One third of couples over 37 we're not able to help despite treatments. It's awful when people realise they've left it too late." By the time Debbie discovered a natural pregnancy was not an option for her, adoption was not possible because of her age and without the help of a willing surrogate, she would have remained childless. But surrogacy brings with it a minefield of legal and moral complications. The moment money is mentioned, the practice becomes illegal but few women will willingly put their life on hold for nine months and put their body through hell without financial compensation - even if it is simply to cover the costs incurred with pregnancy. "I think some sort of compensation in some form should be allowed," believes Debbie, who gave up her own job in order to be with Roxy during her pregnancy. The introduction of the Human Assisted Reproductive Technology bill last year makes that unlikely, although it does clear up grey areas in fertility treatment, banning human cloning for reproduction and making it legal for children born through sperm and egg donations to discover the identity of the donor when they are 18. That may put some potential donors off but Roxy urges people considering the practice to think carefully about the possibilities donation or surrogacy gives to infertile couples. As she and Debbie chat over a cup of coffee, "the boys" - Dad, son and half-brother - play outside. "We're just one unusual but happy family," says Debbie, still wearing a grin that says more than words just how much motherhood means to her.