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Articles / 'My search for my birth family blew my mind'

« Last post by Forgotten Mother on March 12, 2025, 12:14:53 PM »

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cn9vyyqv39no

'My search for my birth family blew my mind'

Daisy Stephens BBC News

Published 9 March 2025

Bryan Urbick knew he was adopted from an early age.  Brought up in Seattle by a strict Catholic couple, Mr Urbick knew very little about his birth family.  But he had a nagging feeling that he did not "fit in" and almost six decades later when settled in Goring, Oxfordshire, he decided the time had come for him to find some answers.  Mr Urbick knew he was the result of an affair, and his mother, who had three other children, put him up for adoption to save her marriage.  But attempts to contact her in Washington state, which has strict laws about contacting birth family, were unsuccessful.  "I suspect she didn't want to relive the past," the 64-year-old told BBC Radio Berkshire.

"[But it was a] tough blow to be rejected again."

His search was reignited after the death of his adoptive mother.  After the funeral, a DNA test revealed he had a lot of cousins, which allowed him to figure out his father was a man called Boyd Carter.  One of Mr Urbick's newly discovered cousins, Craig Moe, told him he had grown up with his father, whom he called Uncle Boyd.  When Mr Moe came to visit him in January 2025, the Henley Standard covered the discovery - and from there, things started to snowball.  "The reporter rang and said, 'Bryan, I have the most amazing news'," said Mr Urbick.

A man had rung the newspaper saying Mr Carter had been a family friend.  The reporter put the two in touch and Mr Urbick discovered the man lived less than four miles away from him, in Whitchurch-on-Thames.  "It just blows my mind a bit that this would happen so close to us," he said.

Mr Urbick is still yet to meet the man who got in touch but said he had already learned so much about his father, who died in 2014.  He said he had discovered he was a perfectionist like him, that they both loved boats, and that their handwriting looked the same.  "And I have weird handwriting," he said.

But he said learning more about his father had been "emotional".  "I don't think he ever knew that I existed," he said.

He also learned his father had another son, who had died aged nine.  "I wish that I had been able to be a son to him as well," he said.

But despite this, Mr Urbick said finding out about his father had helped him feel connected to his birth family.  "I never fit and now I feel like, 'gosh, I fit somewhere', and that's rather exhilarating," he said.

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General Discussion / Access to Records

« Last post by Forgotten Mother on March 08, 2025, 11:33:08 AM »

Please click on the link - https://www.independentpanel.truthrecoveryni.co.uk/access-records?fbclid=IwY2xjawI5CdxleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHZx__SfGRNSqPwPXnGN3PNFwoROBtCnKmrQLL9iv4a4r-p66mMiRg0_KDw_aem_eRWDJ3VOmc4lFhgJruhtoQ

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Articles / Family hunt for relative born to Wigan teen at secret hostel in 1950s

« Last post by Forgotten Mother on March 04, 2025, 06:17:39 PM »

https://www.wigantoday.net/lifestyle/family-and-parenting/family-hunt-for-relative-born-to-wigan-teen-at-secret-hostel-in-1950s-5009690?fbclid=IwY2xjawI0HZZleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHSRkytzYn1GRfKJ__1Mu3IP6yZdTXlj0_G1ffQTzT298LrvkdqkO8T1CPw_aem_2bolrIcxmWOUpGEXoFl3vg

Family hunt for relative born to Wigan teen at secret hostel in 1950s

By Louise Bryning
Published 2nd Mar 2025, 15:45 GMT

A family are hoping to be reunited with a relative born to a Wigan teenager and adopted from a hostel for unmarried mothers in the 1950s.  The baby boy was born to a 16-year-old unmarried woman, who was sent to the hostel in Queen Street, Lancaster, by her shocked parents, who lived in Ashton-in-Makerfield.  The boy was born in December 1956 and was named Michael. However, the young Wigan mother, Dalphene, wanted his birth to be kept secret until she and his father, American serviceman John Vaughn, were both dead.  After giving birth, Dalphene trained as a nurse and the couple later married, moved to America and had three more children.  She died seven years ago and the siblings knew nothing about their older brother until their dad died last year when the secret was revealed.  "They were shocked and concerned, and all felt sorry for their mother as they had no idea that she had such a start in life," said Andy Anderton, Dalphene's younger brother.

He too had not known about his adopted nephew until he and Dalphene were sorting out some papers after their parents died.  "I found an adoption certificate and Dalphene promised me not to tell anyone until she and John had both died," said Andy.

The family believe Michael was the subject of a "forced adoption" and that the home was one of several countrywide, usually run by churches and religious organisations, at a time when children born to single women was frowned upon.  Only daughter Dalphene was the apple of her parents' eye, went to elocution and ballet lessons and attended grammar school.  Andy, now 80, was five years younger than his sister and was never told of her pregnancy though he does remember that, unusually, there was a lot of arguing and crying in the house around that time.  "The shame that her pregnancy would have brought on the family must have been unbelievable in such a small community where my dad was the manager of a wagon works," he said.

Andy does remember that a doctor and vicar were regular visitors and thinks they might have arranged to send Dalphene to Lancaster for the birth.  Andy recently visited the Queen Street building, which is being converted into flats. During the work, a chapel and Bibles were discovered.  The family are now searching for Michael, whose name was changed on adoption. They are using an adoption agency in Wrexham, where Andy lives, which has confirmed they've found Michael's adopted name and identified his adoptive parents.  "We are excited about the possibility of finding my nephew but realise that he might not know that he was adopted or might even be dead," Andy said.

"This is a story that needs to be told as young girls like my sister must have gone through hell."

34

Articles / Patsy Brown thought she’d never see her child again until a letter changed .....

« Last post by Forgotten Mother on February 26, 2025, 12:48:07 PM »

https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2025/feb/01/patsy-brown-thought-shed-never-see-her-child-again-until-a-letter-changed-her-life-forever

Patsy Brown thought she’d never see her child again until a letter changed her life forever

A single, Indigenous woman in 1971 changed her mind about adopting out her son. She believes she was deliberately deceived

It was through a cafe window that Patsy Brown finally glimpsed the man she’d thought of every day for 22 years.  He pulled up on a motorbike on a busy street in Brisbane’s inner-south, removing his helmet to reveal long dark hair and bright blue eyes.  This, surely, must be her son.  Patsy has rarely spoken about the heart-wrenching circumstances that separated her from her first-born child for two decades, but at 73, she says there is a kind of catharsis that comes from telling her story.  “I thought that opening up might help me,” she says.

“There’s still the guilt that lingers. And the regret.”

The Quandamooka woman had hoped to give evidence at Queensland’s truth-telling and healing inquiry on Minjerribah (North Stradbroke Island) late last year, until the LNP dismantled the process five months after it began.  Patsy says she feels as if things are “going backwards” when it comes to understanding the issues affecting Indigenous people.  “There are people who just don’t care,” she says.

“They say ‘It’s the past, you’ve got to get over it’ but you can’t get over it until you’ve actually talked about it and had people empathise with you.”

Patsy recalls the first meeting with her adult son as she sits in a cushioned wicker chair on the veranda of her home on Minjerribah, off the coast of Brisbane. Her house is surrounded by scrubland, and is a short stroll from the turquoise ocean. The bush is alive with cicadas. A warm breeze carries the scent of eucalyptus along the shaded wooden deck.  Patsy built this place a year ago, shortly after returning to the island she grew up on.  “You’ve got to die on country, you know?” she says.

She remembers an idyllic childhood with her 12 younger siblings, bathing in creek water and eating wild fruits and freshly-caught eugaries (pippies) by the light of a kerosene lamp.  They grew up at a place called One Mile named for its distance from the nearest township of Dunwich. This was the era of segregation, when Indigenous people lived under strict controls on missions and reserves, but Patsy didn’t know that yet.  She would learn about discrimination later in life. She would learn that her father had been taken from his family as a small child and raised in an orphanage, unable to speak about the experience before his death at the age of 46.  But perhaps Patsy’s harshest lesson would come when she was 20.  In 1971, living on the mainland and juggling jobs nannying for a large English family and waiting tables at Brisbane’s Treasury Hotel, she became pregnant.  Her partner didn’t want the baby. She had no savings and her parents still had eight of their own children at home.  Unable to see another option, Patsy checked in to the Boothville Mothers’ hospital, a maternity home primarily for single women run by the Salvation Army. She decided to put her baby up for adoption, believing the child would be “better off” with two parents.  But she had no idea what awaited her at Boothville.  Pregnant, she was put to work in the laundry, cleaning the soiled sheets of the married women. Medical records show Patsy was twice hospitalised with high blood pressure “because of the hard work,” she says.

On Friday nights the unwed mothers-to-be attended “Salvationist classes”.  “They said it’s etched in my mind ‘Get down on your knees, you sinners, and ask God for forgiveness’,” Patsy recalls.

Other women have shared similar stories of being shamed, put to work and traumatised at Boothville while single and pregnant.  Around 48 hours in to her labour, as Patsy groaned and panted, she was told: “Be quiet. Stop making so much noise.”

Later, as she held her baby boy, she remembers being awestruck by the little hands.  “That was a picture in my brain all my life. I remember the shape of his hands and his fingers.”

The days after the birth passed in a blur. She remembers someone from the child protection department asking her to sign an adoption agreement. After about a week, Patsy went home, leaving her son behind.  “Emotionally and psychologically, there was really no preparation, no discussion about adoption,” she says.

“The question was, ‘What are you going to do with your baby? Are you putting your baby up for adoption?’ And that was it.”

She tried to resume her nannying duties, but felt heartbroken.  “I was just miserable, you know? I was crying all the time,” she says.

Encouraged by her employer – who assured her she could keep her job and her baby Patsy called the hospital two weeks after giving birth, telling the answering nurse she had made a mistake and was coming to collect her son.  “She said, ‘Well, it’s too late. He’s already gone.’ Those were her exact words,” she says.

Unbeknownst to Patsy, it was not too late. Under the 1964 Queensland Adoption Act, parties could revoke their consent within 30 days of signing an adoption agreement, or before an adoption order was made (whichever came first).  Government documents show Patsy’s son was born in April, but not officially adopted until October.  Patsy now believes this information was deliberately withheld from her.  Children were routinely taken from unwed mothers Indigenous and non-Indigenous from the 1950s to the 1970s in a practice known as forced adoption.  In 2012, a federal inquiry into the practice found information was often withheld from single mothers, including their right to revoke consent for adoptions. Its report mentioned Boothville as an institution where forced adoptions took place.  A decade later, the Salvation Army apologised for its role in Australia’s forced adoptions policy and the continuing effect it has had.  After the birth of her son, a broken-hearted Patsy moved north, living a “reckless” life before settling down to have two more children: another son, and a daughter.  But her first-born was never far from her mind.  “Not a day went by where I didn’t think about him,” she says. “Just looking for him in a crowd, imagining how he might look.”

Patsy believes her son would have been about 15 when she opened up about the ordeal to a social worker friend, who told her the crushing news that she had been entitled to change her mind about the adoption.  “It just felt, you know, can my heart take any more?” she says.

Legally she had to wait until her son was 21 to receive information about his whereabouts.  Even then, it took a year to build up the courage to write a letter to his adoptive parents.  “I was terrified that he might be dead. And then, if he weren’t dead, that he might reject me,” she says.

In 2012, a federal inquiry into the practice found information was often withheld from single mothers, including their right to revoke consent for adoptions. Its report mentioned Boothville as an institution where forced adoptions took place.  A decade later, the Salvation Army apologised for its role in Australia’s forced adoptions policy and the continuing effect it has had.  After the birth of her son, a broken-hearted Patsy moved north, living a “reckless” life before settling down to have two more children: another son, and a daughter.  But her first-born was never far from her mind.  “Not a day went by where I didn’t think about him,” she says. “Just looking for him in a crowd, imagining how he might look.”

Patsy believes her son would have been about 15 when she opened up about the ordeal to a social worker friend, who told her the crushing news that she had been entitled to change her mind about the adoption.  “It just felt, you know, can my heart take any more?” she says.

Legally she had to wait until her son was 21 to receive information about his whereabouts.  Even then, it took a year to build up the courage to write a letter to his adoptive parents.  “I was terrified that he might be dead. And then, if he weren’t dead, that he might reject me,” she says.

Two days later, Patsy got a response: her son, Shannon, was happy to meet.  When she greeted him with a quick hug, she felt his body tense.  “Don’t worry I’ll get used to it,” he told her.

The pair would go on to enjoy barbecues in the park, long phone calls and regular visits as Patsy’s eldest son was welcomed into the family fold.  For Shannon, meeting his extended family was “fantastic” if a little daunting.  “It’s a huge family,” he says.

“It was hard to remember all the names. I’ve had to put them all down on a spreadsheet to keep track.”

But in those first tentative moments at a Brisbane cafe, as Patsy Brown grasped for a way to fill a 22-year chasm, one familiar detail brought her comfort.  “I remember touching his hands and holding them and looking at the palms, and then turning them over and looking at his fingers,” she says.

They had grown since she last held them, but their shape was just the same.

35

Articles / 'I think we brought the wrong one home': one mother's search to find her.....

« Last post by Forgotten Mother on February 24, 2025, 08:30:36 PM »

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2025/feb/22/i-think-we-brought-the-wrong-one-home-one-mothers-search-to-find-her-lost-son?fbclid=IwY2xjawIpq5NleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHQ3EYA_TTg84FDwcDFkOV77jByeWCYmOaOWqf0aHjNNmncfoZN5iyffbWA_aem_YpbrvcwpKuiq7shxrrgbZA

'I think we brought the wrong one home': one mother's search to find her lost son

Joan always suspected she had been handed someone else's baby by the hospital when she gave birth more than 70 years ago. Then an Ancestry DNA test seemed to prove her right. Now in her 90s, she is in a race against time. Can she find her missing child?

By Jenny Kleeman
Sat 22 Feb 2025 12.00 GMT

When Sue bought her mother and younger brother Ancestry kits for Christmas in 2018, she knew that they were never going to be fun gifts. A lingering doubt had always cast a shadow over their family, a question that had gnawed at them for decades. Sue hoped that, if she, Joan and Doug took DNA tests together, they might finally have the answer they craved.  Their results came in a few weeks later. Ancestry listed Sue and Doug as full siblings, with Joan as their mother. Their father, Tom, had died in 2016. Sue felt certain that William her parents' first child, the older brother she and Doug had grown up with, a man they hadn't seen for years had already taken a DNA test with Ancestry. But he didn't appear anywhere on their genetic family tree.  We could see we were all as we should be, and he was nowhere," Sue explains in the living room of Joan's home in Weymouth. "Then I rang Ancestry, and said he hadn't pulled through as a match. They just said: 'Very sorry for your results, but DNA doesn't lie.'"

The news that William was not biologically related to any of them didn't come as a shock to Sue, Joan or Doug. "It felt like confirmation of what we'd always known," Sue tells me.

William had always seemed so different from the rest of the family. And something strange had happened at the hospital after he was born, something that had always played on Joan's mind, even though for years she kept her worries to herself.  The DNA results turned out to be only the beginning of a quest for answers that would come to consume their family. Joan had given birth to a son in the West Midlands in April 1951. If William wasn't that baby, then who was?

The question has become an obsession that has taken over Sue's life, and cost Joan thousands of pounds.  Cases where babies have been accidentally switched at birth are supposed to be unheard of in the UK. In response to a 2017 Freedom of Information request, the NHS replied that there were no records of babies being accidentally brought home from hospital by the wrong set of parents in recent years. But I have discovered that, at a time before babies were routinely tagged with wristbands and were kept apart from their mothers in creches overnight, mistakes happened with unimaginable consequences.  Last November, I reported on the story of two women who discovered they had been accidentally switched at birth in a West Midlands hospital in 1967 all due to an Ancestry DNA test, received as a Christmas gift and casually taken on a rainy day in 2022.  It was devastating news for both families, and the two women had to question everything they thought they knew about their heritage and identity. The NHS has admitted liability in this case, and agreed to pay compensation – although, three years on, the final sum is still yet to be agreed. The NHS trust told the families it was the first documented case of its kind in the history of the health service.  Since November, my inbox has been filled with stories of other accidental baby swaps, recently discovered through people taking at-home DNA tests out of idle curiosity. A Norwegian lawyer got in touch with news of her client, Mona, who had taken a MyHeritage DNA test in 2021, only to discover that she had been switched at birth in 1965; she was fighting for compensation from the Norwegian government after it was revealed that her birth mother had known about the mistake for decades but had been discouraged from looking for Mona. Another case, in Barcelona in 1972, had also recently come to light because of someone taking a MyHeritage test. The Spanish government has agreed to pay compensation in what will be the third case of its kind in the country.  I didn't have the chance to cuddle him. I never held him. It's a terrible feeling."

Several people have sent me stories about near misses in the UK. A man described how he had been handed to the wrong woman a few hours after his birth in 1953; he was already being breastfed by the time his mother realised the mistake. A woman who had worked for Hampshire social services in the 1990s pointed me towards a case where two babies were taken home from a Southampton hospital by the wrong sets of parents in November 1992 and spent two weeks with the wrong families. One of the mothers had had suspicions, but the other had been convinced she had the right baby until DNA testing confirmed the mixup.  All of which is to say that accidental baby swaps are more common than any of us previously imagined. But Sue, Doug and Joan's case is different from all of these stories. Joan had always secretly suspected she had been given the wrong baby more than 70 years ago, and while the Ancestry test appeared to confirm this, the DNA results have not yet been able to tell her who the right baby was. With Joan now in her mid-90s, Sue feels she is in a race against time to find the biological son her mother never even got to hold. It only takes a few moments in Joan, Doug and Sue's company to sense that they share DNA: they echo each other, in their faces and mannerisms. Joan is ensconced in a reclining chair in her living room, surrounded by pictures of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren and stacks of novels. She can't move around the way she used to, but her mind is as sharp as ever. The family moved from Warwickshire to Dorset 50 years ago when Joan's husband, Tom, decided to set up a greengrocer's shop in a seaside town where they used to take holidays. Tom died almost nine years ago; Joan's wedding ring remains on her finger. Doug moved in with his mother four years ago, and he and Sue are her carers. Sue lives a few minutes' drive away.  Joan describes herself as being "a young, young 21" when she went to the West Midlands hospital to give birth to her first child. Married the previous year, she and Tom were living with her parents on the Warwickshire farm where her father raised pigs and cows. Joan's waters broke late on a Sunday night. Tom was nervous when he rang the hospital. "I said: 'Don't panic, we'll be all right,'" she tells me. "He ran all the way down the drive in front of the ambulance to open the field gate. He waved to me. I thought, you should be coming with me."

In the 1950s, men stayed away when women gave birth. "I imagined him shutting the gate after the ambulance. And we went on our way."

The baby arrived at about two in the morning. "They said: 'It's a boy.' And I thought, Tom will be pleased." Tom had grown up with five sisters, and had been desperate for a son. "I said: 'Oh, that's my baby, then. That's lovely.' And I was holding my hands out ready to cuddle him, and they took him away."

She extends her arms, as if still reaching for the newborn who was taken from her. "I didn't have the chance to cuddle him. I never held him. It's a terrible feeling. And even after all these years, you feel it's not right."

Her eyes brim with tears. "You just followed instructions, and that's how it was."

Her son was washed and taken to the creche for the rest of the night, which was routine practice in those days. Joan went to sleep.  A few hours later, the ward sister came into the room Joan shared with three other mothers, carrying four babies in her arms. Joan remembers it vividly – because of what happened next. The sister appeared to lose her grasp on one of the newborns as she approached Joan's bed. "I thought, gracious, she's going to drop one," Joan remembers. "This baby slipped out of her hands and dropped on my legs, and it cried out. If she hadn't have come quickly to me, she would have dropped him on the floor. I grabbed the baby and pulled him to me, because he was crying."

The sister told Joan to feed the baby, and then continued to distribute the other three. "I just kept looking at him and thinking, I wonder if you're my baby?" Joan says.

But, exhausted after the birth and unwilling to challenge a nurse, Joan kept quiet once again. And then Tom came to the hospital, full of excitement that he had a baby boy. She felt she couldn't say anything.  The nagging doubts continued when Joan returned home from hospital. She did what she knew she was supposed to do bathing the baby in a bowl of warm water on the kitchen table, dressing him in the clothes she had knitted for him but things never felt right. "I didn't have that motherly feeling."

Many new mothers feel that way, of course. "It was my first baby, and I was getting used to it, so I just ignored that and got on with it." But the unease lingered. "It was almost like a feeling of: one day they'll bring me the right baby."

Determined never to give birth in hospital again, Joan had Sue and Doug at home. As her three children grew up, the youngest two were always close, but William liked to keep to himself. "I thought, if I've got a family, it has to be a family. But he seemed different from the other two," Joan says.

She pauses. "He was totally, totally different."

Joan is choosing her words carefully. William has been estranged from the family he grew up in for nearly 20 years; their relationship had been very fraught, and Joan is anxious about speaking about him. He did not respond to requests to be interviewed for this article. William is not his real name.  "The older we've got, the more you can see which bits are like which parent. But he just didn't look like either of them."

As the years passed, Tom expressed bewilderment about how their first child could be so different from the rest of the family; it was as if they were growing different seeds in the same soil. Joan told him about how William had fallen into her lap at the hospital where he was born. "Tom said: 'I think we brought the wrong one home.' He made up his mind it was the wrong one. Something wasn't right."

Sue says she never had any idea that either of her parents questioned whether William was their biological son. "We had brilliant parents. All of our family a huge family, on both sides everybody was lovely," she says. "We were always brought up to be very close to each other, but where it came naturally to Doug and I, it didn't come naturally to the older one."

"Cousins and friends would comment, saying: 'Oh, he's not like you,'" Doug adds. "There's always been something distant."

Despite their differences, Sue tried to maintain a relationship with William, visiting him when he was at university, sometimes staying over. "But it was hard work."

As she became an adult, she started to ask questions. "We didn't look alike. Doug and I do: we've got the same sort of features, and the older we've got, the more you can see which bits are like which parent. But he just didn't look like either of them."

When Sue was 19 or 20, Joan finally told her about what had happened at the hospital. It made sense to her. So did the DNA results. When she broke the news to old friends and the wider family, it didn't come as a surprise, she says. "Nobody's shocked."

Ancestry had been selling kits in the UK since 2015, but Sue had chosen to wait until she had retired and had the time and headspace to process whatever a test might reveal. William had been into genealogy for years, Sue tells me: he had had an Ancestry profile since before the company sold test kits. She knew he would have taken a DNA test once they came on the market.  And when their results came in, in early 2019, William sent Joan a text, out of the blue, asking whether they had done Ancestry tests; a cousin had been in touch trying to work out why Sue had appeared as a genetic match to him, but William had not. Joan confirmed that they'd tested. "Sue's not a match," William replied. "You're not my mother."

It was the last contact any of them have had with William.  Joan was devastated. William was still the son she'd raised, after all. "When he said: 'You're not my mother,' it went through me," she tells me, her fists clenched across her chest. "I thought, so he's not mine. It pulls you apart. It's a dreadful thing: a child is not yours."

How soon did she start thinking about who her biological son could be?

"Straight away."

"I got heavily into it then," Sue tells me. "You get on to Ancestry and start searching for somebody I think, I'll just do an hour tonight. Five hours later, I'm thinking, you've got to get to sleep. This has been going on ever since I took the test."

It has dominated her thoughts for the past six years.  DNA results can take over people's lives. Sue is not the first to get lost trying to find someone after a revelation reframes a family. There are scores of Facebook groups run by genealogists sometimes called "Search Angels" or "DNA Detectives" who offer to decode DNA results or track down missing people, often for nothing, but sometimes for a fee. An entire industry has sprung up of companies that offer similar services.  At first, Sue did her own detective work. There were no unexpected connections in her Ancestry results that could reveal who this missing brother might be. But Sue's Ancestry subscription allowed her to access birth records, so she immediately downloaded the names of all the people whose births were registered in the relevant area in spring 1951. She deleted the girls, and put the 130 remaining possible candidates on a spreadsheet, colour-coding the ones that looked most promising. "A work of art," she says proudly.

Next, Sue scoured the internet for any possible clue about exactly when the men on her spreadsheet were born, and whether it could be at the hospital where they believe the swap took place. "I found one guy on Facebook. I was thinking, he doesn't look like us. I went through looking where everybody had said 'Happy Birthday' to get the date. And he flippin' died the day after I found him," she says, ruefully.

She began to search death records, too, marking down those on her spreadsheet who were no longer alive in a different colour.  She wrote to the hospital, asking for any information about who was born at the same time as Joan gave birth, but the hospital told her they couldn't help. (In a statement, the managing director of the hospital NHS Trust involved said: "While we sympathise with [Joan], NHS organisations are legally required to destroy birth registers after 25 years. The Trust has complied with this requirement and there are no records at the hospital NHS Trust to be able to assist with this matter.")

Then, Sue contacted the General Register Office (GRO), which said it did have records of babies born at the hospital around the time Joan gave birth, but it would not release them without a court order. "There's 33 different kinds of court orders," Sue sighs. "You've got to pay a solicitor to deal with it all. I wouldn't know where to start."

She turns to a neat stack of pale papers, at least an inch thick. These are the birth certificates she has ordered so far, at huge expense. She got them from Ancestry at first, at £25 each, until she realised she could order them for £12.50 if she went direct to the GRO. "I've probably got about 60 or 65 more to get," she tells me. She's getting them in batches of 10, because that's all Joan's budget allows. "Doug and I aren't in a position to be paying for it, and Mum's got limited funds she's living off a pension."

This is all on top of Sue's Ancestry subscription, which costs her £13.99 a month. She's been subscribing for the past six years.  And this is only the beginning of their spending. Joan has always known the last name of the woman who was in the bed next to her at the hospital in 1951 it was the same as her own maiden name. They hired a people-tracing firm, Relative Connections, to track down the son that woman gave birth to. The company managed to find him, and passed on Joan's offer to pay for him to take a DNA test that would rule him in or out of their family, but he refused. In the end, his daughter and niece both agreed to take Ancestry tests, at Joan's expense. "It turned out they were first cousins, and neither of them pulled through as a match to us. So we knew it wasn't him," Sue explains. Crossing his name off the spreadsheet had cost Joan another £1,147. This has left two possible candidates: the men who, as babies, were given to the women in the two beds opposite Joan.  Their hopes are now pinned on another man whose date and place of birth match up. Relative Connections made contact with him a few months ago, Sue says. The company has spoken to him on the phone, and passed on a letter from her, Joan and Doug, explaining how much it would mean to them if he took the test. They followed up the letter with emails and voicemails. But he has neither agreed to take the DNA test nor refused.  "I am 99.9% sure he was one of the babies the nurse was carrying. Whether he's the one that should have been with Mum, we won't know unless he does a DNA test," Sue says,

frustration rising in her voice. They've even offered to pay for him to have a more expensive test with a private lab, in case he's wary of being on Ancestry's database: he'd give his DNA, Joan would give hers, they'd get the results within 24 hours, and it would remain between the two of them. But there has been no response from him since the initial phone call.  Sue gets out her phone again, this time to show me the picture she's taken from this man's Facebook and placed next to pictures of her family for easy comparison.  "He looks like Doug. Dad's shape face. The nose looks like Mum's."

"He's got a big nose like me!" Joan chips in.

I look over to Doug, and he does look quite a bit like this stranger from Facebook. But then Sue shows me another picture of the same man, this time with the woman he thinks is his mother, and I think they look alike.  "That is supposed to be his older brother," Sue continues, pulling up another photo. "Now, I think he looks like ..." and she brings up a picture of William. "He has got the ears the same as that guy, who's supposed to be the older brother to that one." You could lose your mind, scrutinising faces like this.

Sue found Relative Connections on Google. "When I spoke to them on the phone, they were very good, and said they do it for television programmes as well. I thought, we've got to find him. But obviously, we have to give them another £1,000 to find this one who hasn't agreed to test yet. I'm very conscious that it's Mum's money."

Why not just contact him directly, instead of using an intermediary? "I know his address. I could have done it myself," Sue concedes. "I didn't want him to think that some crazy stalkers had come after him. I wanted him to feel that it wasn't just some crackpot – this genuinely happened."

"This isn't a TV show where everyone's happy to have contact and everyone sits in a lovely tea shop having scones together," says Sue Harrison, Sue's contact at Relative Connections. "That's not reality. There are variable outcomes and they're not always going to be what you want."

Harrison is telling me about the importance of expectation management in her line of work. Her background is in customer service she had no experience of people-tracing before she started at Relative Connections a decade ago. Her goal, she says, is to bring her clients closure.  There are a huge range of reasons why people hire her: sometimes they are looking for a beneficiary named in a will, or old school friends, or people they met on holiday. "One of our most popular searches is for old sweethearts."

Family estrangements keep them busy, with parents looking for grownup kids, and vice versa.  Now that one in 20 British people has taken a DNA test, and more than 26 million Americans, an important new dimension has been added to their business. Harrison has come to understand the amount of shared DNA that makes a sibling, a parent or a cousin. They have a dedicated team member who specialises in decoding results from Ancestry, 23andMe and MyHeritage.  I've called Harrison because I want to understand the value professional services such as hers could bring to families like Joan's. What do they do that their customers can't on their own?

"Most people come to us after years of trying to find a person themselves," Harrison says. "You would think that with social media it would be easier now than it was years ago, but it's actually harder." These days, we have the option of choosing not to be on the public electoral register, and fewer of us have landlines; there's no reliable phone book to look people up in any more. Relative Connections has access to paid databases that aren't in the public domain, Harrison says, with verified addresses. But the real value they bring, she continues, comes from taking on the role of intermediary: "Having someone who's a step back, who's not related, who's not emotionally involved with either side."

It's not uncommon for people to believe they have been switched at birth, Harrison tells me; for some, that is less far-fetched than the idea that they share DNA with the family that raised them. But Joan's story stands out as the first case the company has handled where there's every reason to believe a baby swap has actually taken place.  "The human inside of me is incredibly frustrated," she says. "I don't want Joan to leave this Earth not knowing what happened."

The man Sue has identified as very likely to be one of the babies given to a mother opposite Joan in April 1951 seemed friendly and amenable on the one occasion when Harrison spoke to him on the phone, she tells me. He verified that he was born on the right date, and at the same hospital. "I'm at the point where I have to assume at this stage he's choosing not to get back in touch," she says.

They will send a final letter, and if that goes ignored, Harrison says she will ask his daughter to take a DNA test. "Had he contacted us and said: 'I don't want to know at my time of life,' then I probably wouldn't have agreed to contacting the daughter. But he hasn't, and I don't know why. I have to balance that between what Joan and Sue need. Time is running out."

Sue is painfully aware that had William's attitude been different, they could have quickly found the answers they sought by looking through their genetic family trees together. "If we find who should have been with us, he's going to find where he should have been."

Beyond the text to Joan saying she wasn't his mother, William has never discussed his DNA results with the family he grew up with. Joan's memories of the hospital, and the differences between the siblings, mean Joan, Doug and Sue are all convinced the switch must have happened. And Joan has invested too much in the search to give up now.  Now in his late 60s, Doug doesn't really care about finding his older brother. "For me, personally, it doesn't matter one way or the other. I don't need anyone else in my life now to start another relationship with. That's not to say that the person wouldn't be welcomed it's just, that time's gone, for me. But from mum's point of view, I'd definitely like it sorted," he tells me.

Sue has submitted her DNA to five other sites to maximise her chances. She checks Ancestry every day for new matches. "When I go to bed, I've got my phone, I've got my spreadsheet, and I have to get on it. It's just a huge mystery to solve."

She and Joan believe that if they could find this person, then their family will finally make sense. But what if they do, and he doesn't want to be part of it?

"We won't know unless we find him," Sue replies. "I need to find him, and I need to get the answers and then work out the rest of it from there."

As the years go on, Joan is ever more troubled by the idea that she may never find out what happened at the hospital. "Before I go, it would be lovely to know," she tells me. "I know it sounds silly, but sometimes I can't sleep."

She wipes her eyes beneath her glasses. "I hope he's had a good life that's the main thing, isn't it?"

Given the money and hours spent searching, and the mental anguish of believing that the son she brought up was not her own, and that her firstborn child a baby she never got to hold was raised in another family, is Joan glad she took the DNA test in the first place?

"Oh yes. Yes," she replies, immediately. "Everybody wants the truth, don't they?"

*  Jenny Kleeman's interview with Joan and family will be aired in The Gift: Bonus Episode – Searching, on Radio 4 at 3pm on Tuesday 25 February and on BBC Sounds from today.

36

General Discussion / Re: Devotions

« Last post by Forgotten Mother on February 22, 2025, 05:42:54 PM »

https://proverbs31.org/read/devotions/full-post/2024/07/17/one-simple-change-to-celebrate-our-spiritual-uniqueness?utm_campaign=Daily%20Devotions&utm_medium=email&_hsenc=p2ANqtz--otZ_A714N3BaxeOBqrU0s_7uFPUt_OjGi6_SThf0JBx5b1v04w0SmXmjsfeKUaDB582NgdhawW_39lkaPy45sxzvEjw&_hsmi=313508618&utm_content=313508618&utm_source=hs_email#disqus_thread

One Simple Change To Celebrate Our Spiritual Uniqueness
July 17, 2024
by Asheritah Ciuciu

"Blessed are those who have learned to acclaim you, who walk in the light of your presence, LORD. They rejoice in your name all day long; they celebrate your righteousness." Psalm 89:15-16 (NIV)

Do you suffer from spiritual comparison syndrome? It might sound like this:

“I wish I could pray like Susie … She seems to have a direct line to heaven.”
“If only I could memorize the Bible like Jen … She recites entire chapters at a time.”
“I’ll never journal artistically in my Bible like Fatima … She creates the most beautiful art.”
“At least I'm keeping up with my Scripture reading plan … Rhonda is two weeks behind.”

When we compare our spiritual habits to others’, we can feel inferior and discouraged or prideful and accomplished, but the result is the same: Our hearts become distant from God’s presence.  But when we look closely, we learn there is no one-size-fits-all devotional formula prescribed in the Bible. God created each of us with unique personalities, learning styles, strengths and experiences, and as our loving Creator, He welcomes us to bring our whole selves to Him in worship.  We see this principle in Psalm 89:15-16, which reads: “Blessed are those who have learned to acclaim you, who walk in the light of your presence, LORD. They rejoice in your name all day long; they celebrate your righteousness.”

Throughout Israel’s history, worship leaders wrote psalms and taught the people new songs of praise to celebrate the Lord during temple worship services. But their worship extended beyond the temple courts the people were to “walk in the light of [His] presence all day long” (Psalm 89:15-16).

Whether they were farmers singing as they plowed, weavers praying at the loom, or midwives praising God as new life was born, they were to actively learn and practice new ways of rejoicing in the Lord.  What would our lives look like if we adopted this growth mindset in our relationship with Jesus?

What if, instead of comparing our spiritual habits to others, we asked God’s Spirit to teach us to praise Him the way He made us?

For example, my stick-figure doodles in the margins of my Bible will never impress Pinterest, but that’s OK. I feel closest to God while quietly watching a sunset and digging deep into theology.

Imagine celebrating our sisters and brothers in Christ instead of suffering that dreaded comparison!

We can thank the Bible enthusiast in our small group whose knowledge gives us something to ponder during the week.

We can lean on that prayer warrior when we need someone to support us through a family crisis.

We can appreciate those whose gifts are different than ours, and we can embrace the unique way God created us to worship Him, delighting in Him all day long.

37

Articles / Mother-and-baby home survivors advised of deadline

« Last post by Forgotten Mother on February 20, 2025, 02:48:07 PM »

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/c204rx7ew2xo?at_link_id=4AD09E16-EE8C-11EF-8EFA-C70AA461624D&at_link_origin=BBC_News_NI&at_bbc_team=editorial&at_medium=social&at_ptr_name=facebook_page&at_link_type=web_link&at_format=link&at_campaign_type=owned&at_campaign=Social_Flow&fbclid=IwY2xjawIkHjpleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHa3sPu8rzz6XuRJzeVyx-NT52DvB13xza02SHyYakJMgGK1KMS_GzoSZbw_aem_xPWSPfrR4oBZPyO-fLOUnw

Mother-and-baby home survivors advised of deadline

Eimear Flanagan
BBC News NI
Published
19 February 2025

People who want to share their experiences of Northern Ireland's mother-and-baby homes have been advised there is a cut-off point to testify ahead of a public inquiry.  Former residents who spent time in the homes, or working in Magdalene laundries, are urged to register their interest in taking part before the deadline on 1 May.  To date, more than 140 people have provided personal testimonies to an independent panel of experts who are investigating how the institutions operated.  The panel is particularly keen to hear from anyone with experience of or information about Protestant-run homes in order to provide a fuller picture of the whole system.  They said they have "developed a sensitive and trauma-informed approach" so the testimony process would be "respectful and non-adversarial" towards survivors.  The experts' final report is due to be published later this year, and the panel's findings will help inform the forthcoming public inquiry into the institutions.  It is believed more than 10,500 women were admitted to mother-and-baby institutions in Northern Ireland between 1922 and 1990.  Run by religious, state and charitable organisations, they housed women and girls who became pregnant outside marriage.  A further 3,500 women and girls were sent to laundries or industrial homes where many of them had to work without pay.

Truth Recovery Independent Panel

In 2021, Stormont's devolved government agreed to order an independent investigation into the institutions, external and their treatment of women and children.  The Truth Recovery Independent Panel, which is carrying out preparatory investigations, is also examining the homes' role in adoption and fostering.  In addition, the panel is investigating the practice of cross-border adoption in which babies were separated from single mothers and sent outside the state.  The institutions included in the Truth Recovery Independent Panel's investigation are:

    Deanery Flats

    Hopedene Hostel

    Kennedy House/Church of Ireland Rescue League, Belfast

    Malone Place/Belfast Midnight Mission Maternity Home Belfast

    Marianvale, Newry, Mother and Baby Institution

    Marianville, Belfast

    Mater Dei Hostel, Belfast

    Mount Oriel

    Thorndale House, Salvation Army, Belfast

    Workhouses across Northern Ireland

    Magdalene Laundries

    St Mary's, Magdalene laundry, Belfast

    St Mary's, Magdalene laundry, Londonderry

    St Mary's Magdalene laundry, Newry

Information on Protestant-run homes sought

The co-chairs of the panel Prof Leanne McCormick and Prof Sean O'Connell -urged survivors and their families to register in time to ensure their voices are heard.  "To gain the fullest picture possible, we continue to appeal to members of the Protestant community or anyone with information relating to Protestant-run homes in our remit to consider coming forward," they said.

"We are also appealing to the diaspora across the UK, and internationally in America, Canada, and Australia to make their voice heard."

They added they are seeking testimony from anyone who with information about organisations involved in the "forced separation of a birth mother from an infant".

The panel can be contacted by emailing testimony@independentpanel.org.uk or by phoning 028 9052 0263.

Interim compensation payments

Separate to the Truth Recovery exercise, Stormont's Executive Office has proposed a redress scheme for people who spent time in mother-and-baby homes.  Last summer it consulted the public on a proposal to offer a standardised interim payment of £10,000 to anyone who spent at least 24 hours in a home.  The consultation added this could be followed by further individually-assessed payments, based on survivors' personal circumstances, when the inquiry concludes.  A total of 269 responses to that public consultation were received but the results have not yet been published.

38

General Discussion / Re: Devotions

« Last post by Forgotten Mother on February 14, 2025, 06:46:56 PM »

https://proverbs31.org/read/devotions/full-post/2024/07/10/when-he-appears-in-the-flames?utm_campaign=Daily%20Devotions&utm_medium=email&_hsenc=p2ANqtz-_-JWpNr2YBUjsHUlUOCVA3p9Ppu-viFdyHA-eEcb2uFVpAswMXwup-9_z0yC-On255NDmn7yC4wqdRoMdHWRbI8zDjEQ&_hsmi=311637015&utm_content=311637015&utm_source=hs_email#disqus_thread

When He Appears in the Flames
July 10, 2024
by Sarah Freymuth, COMPEL Training Member

“And the angel of the LORD appeared to him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush. He looked, and behold, the bush was burning, yet it was not consumed.” Exodus 3:2 (ESV)

The earth rolls by as I drive home, heart heavy with fear and uncertainty. I’ve lived in a realm of listlessness for months, fighting through fatigue and anxiety that doesn’t fully go away. Worn weary, I wonder where I even am on God’s radar. Does He see my pain?

Worries about health keep cycling in my mind. I am looking for any sign that God sees me. Didn’t God give Moses a burning bush?

Then my “burning bush” appears.  I’m driving down a familiar road when my eyes flash up to a side street: Burning Bush Lane. In the rocky clefts and broken landscape of my heart, this sign encourages me that I am seen.  God is here, even in the flames of my pain. I recall what God told Moses in Exodus 3:5: “The place on which you are standing is holy ground” (ESV).

Perhaps my hurts and worries are held on holy ground as well.  In Exodus 3, God appeared in the wilderness where Moses thought all was lost. God watched for Moses to come near, then spoke from the flames, affirming both His character and Moses’ identity: “I am the God of your father ...” (Exodus 3:6, ESV, emphases added). He used the flickering flames of singeing fire to speak and soothe.

“And the angel of the LORD appeared to him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush. He looked, and behold, the bush was burning, yet it was not consumed” (Exodus 3:2).

God reaches us in surprising ways even as we stumble through our turmoil and pain. He is patient and kind; He is always near, waiting for us to turn toward Him, and He speaks when we open up our hearts in complete vulnerability.  We never know where the Lord will appear to us, but we can settle into a posture of receiving His voice, even when it comes in unexpected ways. Especially when it comes in unexpected ways, like the fires of trial and suffering.  Our pain has purpose. We can believe God when He says He works all things together for good. Heartaches, health struggles, strained relationships, feelings of despair and worry.  All things work together for our good and His glory (Romans 8:28).  We may never fully know the reasons for our suffering, but we can be certain that whether it feels like it or not, we are on holy ground because the Holy One is with us, making a way in the wilderness (Isaiah 43:19).

39

Articles / ‘Time running out’ for UK to apologise over forced adoptions

« Last post by Forgotten Mother on February 10, 2025, 05:52:59 PM »

https://www.theguardian.com/society/2025/feb/09/forced-adoptions-time-running-out-for-uk-to-apologise?fbclid=IwY2xjawIXGuFleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHQNsxDdTlizSyXdnCXdDqXOFfLy2ndSuqFbmdP5BZjxzxQZW784Qqkicyw_aem_BIT1oB19ljZcklzQwx-8rQ

‘Time running out’ for UK to apologise over forced adoptions

Campaigners demand government issue formal apology to women forced to give up their babies in 1950s-70s

Time is running out for the UK government to issue a formal apology to women who were forced to give up their babies for adoption in the 1950s, 60s and 70s, campaigners have warned.  Most of the estimated 185,000 women involved in forced adoptions are now in their 70s and 80s, and some have died without an apology on behalf of the state being issued.  Many pinned their hopes on the Labour government after the previous Conservative administration said in 2023 that a formal government apology was not appropriate. But despite strong cross-party support for such a move, the government has failed to act.  “Time is of the essence,” said Karen Constantine, of the Movement for an Adoption Apology (MAA) and the author of Taken: Experiences of Forced Adoption. “The value of an apology would be immensely healing and resolve unimaginable pain endured for decades by an ageing cohort of women who had their babies taken from them.”

Last year, Veronica Smith, one of the co-founders of the MAA, died aged 83. The loss of her daughter in a forced adoption in 1964 had “coloured the whole of my life”, she said.

She had hoped to testify at a public hearing into forced adoptions, but the government dismissed calls for an inquiry in 2017.  Discussions with senior Labour politicians before last year’s election led the MAA to believe that a formal apology would be issued if the party took power. “It’s beyond disappointing that it hasn’t happened,” said Constantine. “My many formal and informal conversations led me to believe an apology would be forthcoming and that Keir Starmer would deliver it.”

MPs and peers from all parties who had backed calls for an apology were unhappy with the lack of progress, she added.  Lord Alton, the chair of parliament’s joint committee on human rights (JCHR), urged the government “to take ownership of resolving this wider legacy to mitigate the harm that was done” to women. “This isn’t about apportioning blame, but recognising the serious trauma and lasting pain suffered by so many people,” he told the Guardian, speaking in a personal capacity.

Helena Kennedy, a barrister and member of the JCHR, and Harriet Harman, a veteran Labour politician and a former chair of the JCHR, also said the government should issue a formal apology. State and church bodies “sustained a punitive culture of shaming young women who became pregnant outside of marriage”, said Kennedy.

A JCHR inquiry into forced adoptions in 2021 that found the UK government was “ultimately responsible” for actions that inflicted harm inflicted on young, vulnerable women and children. “An apology by the government and an official recognition that what happened to these mothers was dreadful and wrong would go some way to mitigate the pain and suffering of those affected,” it said.

Responding to a request for comment from the children’s and families minister Janet Daby, a Department for Education spokesperson said: “This abhorrent practice should never have taken place, and our deepest sympathies are with all those affected. We take this issue extremely seriously and continue to engage with those impacted to provide support and consider what more can be done.”

The Scottish government issued a formal apology in 2023. Nicola Sturgeon, then Scotland’s first minister, said: “The issuing of a formal apology is an action that governments reserve as a response to the worst injustices in our history.”

The Welsh government formally apologised for the “life-long heartbreak” caused by forced adoptions also in 2023. In 2018, Leo Varadkar, then Irish prime minister, told parliament: “What was done was an historic wrong that we must face up to.”

In 2016, the head of the Catholic church in England and Wales apologised for its role in forced adoptions, and the Church of England also expressed “great regret”.  The Catholic church, the C of E and the Salvation Army ran “mother and baby homes” and adoption agencies in the UK from the 1950s until the 1970s. Unmarried pregnant women were sent to the homes to give birth and hand over their babies for adoption. They were not told they could keep their children and had the right to welfare support. Adoption reached a peak in 1968, when more than 16,000 babies born to unmarried mothers were handed to new families.  Michael Lambert, an academic at Lancaster University who has researched forced adoptions, said the government decided not to take over the homes when the welfare state was created in the 1940s, but instead subsidised their services.  “The weight of evidence from archive material and testimonials is huge,” he said. “It’s not just the birth mothers who are ageing and may not live to see an apology, there is also a generation of adoptees who deserve justice.”

As well as a formal apology, the MAA wants government funding for support services for women and their children who were involved in forced adoptions and full access to historical records.

40

Articles / The disturbing REAL reason I believe so many celebrities use surrogates......

« Last post by Forgotten Mother on February 04, 2025, 05:18:36 PM »

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-14356459/child-IVF-cycles-adopt-surrogacy-sickening-banned-CLAUDIA-CONNELL.html#newcomment

The disturbing REAL reason I believe so many celebrities use surrogates. I tried to adopt and had IVF and it exposed the truth to me: CLAUDIA CONNELL

By CLAUDIA CONNELL

Published: 01:32, 4 February 2025 | Updated: 09:19, 4 February 2025

The announcement of the birth of a beautiful baby isn't usually followed by widespread backlash a backlash so vicious that one of the parents feels compelled to take to social media to admonish their critics.  Yet that's what happened when Emily In Paris actress Lily Collins, 35, revealed last week that she had, via a surrogate, become a new mother.  Lily uploaded a picture of baby Tove sleeping in her crib, telling her 29 million Instagram followers: 'Words will never express our endless gratitude for our incredible surrogate and everyone who helped us along the way.'

It drew messages of congratulations and 2.4 million likes. But in among the good wishes were many comments that weren't quite so positive.  'Having babies shouldn't be like placing an Amazon order,' said one critic.

'The future: pregnancy is for poor women only,' said another.

No wonder Lily's film director husband Charlie McDowell, 41, felt obliged to address the many 'unkind' remarks in a comment on his wife's post. He suggested that these people 'spend less time spewing hateful words into the world, especially in regards to a beautiful baby girl'.

McDowell, the director of Netflix films The Discovery and Windfall and the son of actor Malcolm McDowell, pointed out that nobody knows the reason why he and Lily used a surrogate, nor what the surrogate's motivations were. He's right, of course.  He and Lily are no doubt blissfully happy in their new baby bubble, and I'm sure little Tove is cherished. But no happy announcement will ever make me see surrogacy as anything other than an unedifying business, nor prevent me from calling for a ban.  Today, surrogate births have become so prevalent in Hollywood that it's a surprise when a celebrity carries and delivers her own child. Research firm Global Market Insights predicts the industry could be worth nearly $130 billion (£105 billion) by 2032.  How can anyone not feel sickened by this figure and what it represents the commodifying of the female body?

That it has become such a lucrative business is, I believe, in part due to the wholesome version of surrogacy that celebrities present to the world. Paris Hilton, Amber Heard, Rebel Wilson, Cameron Diaz, Priyanka Chopra, Chrissy Teigen and Naomi Campbell are just a handful of stars who have been open about their use of surrogates in recent years.  At the heart of the trade lies a disturbing imbalance of power. Surrogacy is available only to wealthy people. Prices vary around the world, with America being the costliest.  Once medical bills, lawyers and agency fees are accounted for, so-called 'commissioning parents' (those who pay for a surrogate) could end up forking out nearly £160,000 there.  Countries at the cheaper end of the scale include Eastern European nations such as Ukraine, where the cost of surrogacy runs to around £40,000.  These wealthy commissioning parents can't achieve their dream without, to put it bluntly, renting a womb. The surrogate must subject herself to endless tests, take powerful IVF drugs and then put her body through the stress of a pregnancy. Research has also shown that surrogates are at a higher risk of complications.  They then go through the trauma of birth only to hand the child over as soon as the umbilical cord is cut. It doesn't take a genius to deduce that many such women are likely to be desperate and impoverished, reduced to selling their bodies to pay their bills.  I suspect that many of the celebrities who turn to surrogacy do so because they don't want to take career breaks, or gain weight and risk ruining the figures they rely on for their lucrative careers.  We don't know exactly when Lily's daughter was born, but the actress has spent the past three months in London appearing in the West End play Barcelona. Before that she was filming Emily In Paris in France and Italy.  When Charlie's Angels actress Lucy Liu had her son Rockwell Lloyd via surrogacy in 2015, she admitted: 'It just seemed like the right option for me because I was working and I didn't know when I was going to be able to stop.'

I realise that many women who outsource their pregnancies did want to carry their own children but were unable to. My heart aches for women who experience infertility, but it does not give anyone the right to buy a baby.  I, myself, had three failed cycles of IVF. I applied for adoption before giving up after finding the system to be chaotic and discriminatory towards single women. In the end, I had to make my peace with being childless.  Any woman who has undergone IVF will know that the fertility drugs and desperation send you mad. You become willing to throw money at anything that promises to increase your chances of having a baby. I spent crazy sums on vitamins, acupuncture and whacky intravenous infusions to no avail.  I thank heavens that, even at my most desperate, I never considered surrogacy. Some women I befriended via an online fertility forum did, though.   One, who'd remortgaged her house to pay for six failed IVF cycles, took out further loans to use a surrogate at an Indian baby factory where impoverished women were paid to have children for Western couples unable to conceive. These women were often forced into surrogacy by family and kept in grim boarding houses.  As details of these women emerged they delivered 2,000 babies a year to overseas clients and were reduced to brood mares it caused such outrage that commercial surrogacy was banned in India in 2016.  Ukraine then became the surrogacy centre of choice for those without celebrity bank balances.  Before the war, Ukrainian surrogates were delivering around 2,500 babies a year for foreign parents. When the war with Russia broke out, babies were left to languish parentless in hospitals and children's homes, since the commissioning parents were unable to travel to collect them. You'd think it might have led to a ban, but it didn't.  It's all a far cry from the rose-tinted version of surrogacy that is often presented that of grateful parents rewarded with their longed-for 'miracle' child thanks to a kind 'carrier' who, of course, is declared to be part of the family.  In the UK, commercial surrogacy is illegal, meaning that only the 'altruistic' kind where the surrogate mother is not paid is allowed. But don't be fooled into thinking this gives us the moral high ground.  The law lets intended parents pay a surrogate's 'reasonable expenses' and as these can cover everything from food and travel to childcare, clothing and even domestic help, it can run into tens of thousands of pounds.  Greece, like the UK, does not permit commercial surrogacy. But that didn't stop a surrogacy trafficking ring being uncovered on the island of Crete in 2023. Its Mediterranean Fertility Institute was shut down after it was alleged that staff trafficked women from Eastern European and Balkan countries to act as surrogates.  It really isn't so far-fetched to believe the same thing could happen here, and it's why more women need to speak up. If you are appalled at the exploitation of women in the sex industry but stay silent about surrogacy, then you have no right to call yourself a feminist. Anything that harms women is our business.  The only way to keep vulnerable women safe is to implement a worldwide ban, regardless of whether the commissioning parents are ordinary people or multi-millionaire stars like Lily.