With the egg donor, we chose from profiles. With gestational carrier candidates, we were suddenly speaking to real people who might carry our children.

That shift changed everything about how the decision felt. Anonymous donor selection had been strange and emotionally heavy, but it happened on paper. Gestational carrier matching happened on video calls - with voices, pauses, reactions, and questions coming back at us from the other side of the screen.

Some agencies and clinics are willing to transfer more than one embryo to the same gestational carrier, creating a twin pregnancy. That option exists.

For us, the medical risks associated with twin pregnancies felt difficult to justify when another path was available. We preferred two separate pregnancies, each carried by a different gestational carrier, even though it made the process more complex and more expensive. That meant meeting more than one candidate, saying yes to two women, and understanding that each yes was only the beginning of a relationship none of us could fully predict.

This was a personal decision, not medical advice. It simply felt like the right balance of risk and responsibility for our family.

This is not an article about finding the “best” surrogate. It is about what it felt like to meet gestational carrier candidates as intended parents - and to understand, slowly and awkwardly, that they were choosing us too.

We are intended parents sharing our experience, not medical or legal advisors. This is not a guide to surrogate selection in every country, not a ranking of agencies, and not advice on what you should prioritize. It is simply what happened when we chose our two gestational carriers, and what we wish someone had told us about the human side before the first call.

Why this felt different from choosing an egg donor

Egg donor selection was profile-based. We read documents, compared criteria, and decided without ever hearing the donor speak. Gestational carrier matching was more human because we could meet, talk, see reactions, and sense the person in real time.

Video calls made that possible. We could ask questions. The candidate and her family could ask questions too. There was a conversation, not just a file. Sometimes her husband or partner joined. Sometimes a child appeared briefly in the background. The process stopped feeling like reviewing inventory and started feeling like meeting someone whose life would intersect with ours in an extraordinary way.

That human quality was also what made it harder. Profiles can be compared in private, on your own schedule, without anyone watching your face when you hesitate. A live call asks something different of you. You are present. You are being read, even when you are also trying to read the other person.

Choosing gestational carriers felt much more human than choosing an egg donor - and much more awkward. We are grateful for that humanity. We did not always feel graceful inside it.

The first call was awkward

The first meeting with a candidate felt strange in a way we had not fully prepared for.

We did not know what to ask. It was not an ordinary interview. The topic is intimate. You are, indirectly, exploring whether this person might carry your child - and whether you are people she can trust with that role. Sometimes her partner was on the call too. Sometimes silence opened up and neither side knew how to fill it gracefully.

It was not a job interview. It was not a friendship call. It was something else entirely.

The agency helped more than we expected here. They scheduled the calls, set expectations beforehand, and stepped in when conversation stalled. They translated when language got in the way and gently guided us toward questions that were respectful rather than intrusive. Their value was not only finding candidates. It was helping the relationship start safely and clearly.

A laptop on a desk during a video call, with abstract participant placeholders and no visible faces.

The language barrier

Our route is in Colombia. The gestational carrier candidates we met did not speak English. One of us speaks Spanish and could interact more spontaneously. The other had limited Spanish and had to listen, follow as best he could, ask for translation, and sometimes accept that he was not catching everything in real time.

That asymmetry mattered more than we expected. Surrogacy already asks intended parents to trust a process they cannot fully control. When you cannot follow every sentence in a conversation about that trust, participation itself can feel uneven. Relying on a partner for translation can be frustrating - not because the partner is failing, but because the moment is emotional and you want to be fully inside it.

The agency bridged some of those gaps. So did patience on every side. Still, we learned that communication matters deeply when choosing someone who may carry your child, and that language is not a small detail you can hand-wave away on a video call.

When the answer was immediately yes - or clearly no

The agency started presenting candidates earlier than we expected - even before the egg donor process was fully resolved. One early match felt especially promising because of a meaningful connection with Spanish culture that the agency thought could make sense for us. That timing felt lucky and unexpected.

For one candidate, the connection was immediate. Within minutes, both of us felt the same thing: if she was willing to move forward, we wanted to move forward too. The strange part is that neither of us could fully explain why.

We had spent months researching agencies, clinics, contracts, and donor profiles. We were used to building decisions slowly. Yet here the reaction arrived before we could justify it logically. That certainty was almost unsettling - not because we doubted her, but because we were not accustomed to yes answers that came from instinct rather than spreadsheets.

For another candidate, the feeling was positive but slower - more cautious, more questions, more time to sit with the decision. For other candidates, the answer was clearly no.

Some candidates seemed perfectly reasonable on paper, but did not feel ready for the responsibility they were considering. That was not a judgment of their character. It was simply a reminder that intended parents and candidates can look at the same conversation and arrive at different levels of comfort. Both sides have to feel aligned - not only on paper, but in the room.

Some of those no decisions were hard to explain. Sometimes you simply feel that it is not right, even when you cannot defend that feeling in a spreadsheet. Sometimes the opposite happens: a yes arrives before your rational checklist is finished.

The final choice was subjective. That was uncomfortable for two people used to researching providers, comparing contracts, and looking for reasons. We had to accept that chemistry, trust, and instinct were part of the process - not because we were being careless, but because we were choosing a person, not a product.

Why family support mattered

One of the questions we kept returning to was whether the candidate’s household could support what gestational surrogacy actually involves.

Is her family supportive? Is her husband or partner supportive? If she has children, do they understand what is happening? How will her household respond to a pregnancy that will not end with a baby joining her family? How will relatives, neighbors, and her work environment react?

She will be pregnant, but she will not become the mother of the child she carries. That reality has emotional and social consequences that extend far beyond a medical appointment schedule. We were not trying to audit her private life. We were trying to understand whether she would have the support she would need for something that is demanding even when everything goes well.

When a candidate had children, we wanted to know - carefully - whether they had been told in an age-appropriate way and whether they understood that the pregnancy would not mean a new sibling at home. We asked those questions with as much respect as we could. They were not curiosity. They were part of taking the whole person, and her family, seriously.

Practical details that suddenly mattered

The agency and clinic teams pre-screen candidates on medical and legal criteria. Intended parents still naturally wonder about lifestyle and daily routines - not as policing, but as care and risk awareness.

We asked about general health habits, support systems, and how daily life might look during pregnancy. In Colombia, gestational carriers must already have at least one child, so previous pregnancy and delivery history came up too. We asked because it helped us understand her story, not because we could judge medical risk ourselves. A previous straightforward delivery does not guarantee a future outcome. A previous difficulty does not necessarily mean impossible. Professionals have to interpret what matters medically. We tried not to over-diagnose from a conversation.

Small practical details also surfaced in ways we had not anticipated. One candidate used a motorcycle for transportation. We worried about safety during pregnancy. The agency reassured us that transport costs such as taxi or ride service would be covered and that motorcycle use would stop once she was pregnant.

We also wanted to feel that her living conditions and general environment were stable enough for rest and support during pregnancy. We tried to frame that as concern for her wellbeing, not judgment about how she lives. Small practical details suddenly mattered because they were not small anymore.

What we asked - and what we could not really control

Not every question was clinical or logistical. At one point one of us, who is a musician, asked a light personal question about whether the candidate might be open to playing certain music later in pregnancy when sound could be part of the environment around the developing baby.

This was not science for us. It was a small emotional request - a way to feel connected from far away. We did not treat music as a medical intervention or claim it would improve outcomes. It was simply one human detail in a process that can otherwise feel dominated by forms and schedules.

Other questions were harder because they touched fear rather than preference. What if she smokes in private? What if she hides something? What if she does not follow guidance?

We could not eliminate those fears with one conversation. Trust is unavoidable in surrogacy. There is a legal contract. There is medical monitoring. There is agency follow-up. But intended parents cannot control everything another adult does in her daily life.

Surrogacy asks you to trust another adult with something that feels impossible to control. Naming that fear did not make it disappear. It kept us from pretending we had more certainty than the process allows.

An open presentation folder on a desk with abstract photo placeholders and blank cards.

The presentation we had to make about ourselves

This was not only us choosing someone. She also had to choose us.

We prepared a short presentation with who we are, our story as a couple, why we wanted to become parents, and why we hoped to build a respectful relationship with the candidate. It included photos and personal context - enough for her to see us as people, not only as names on an agency file.

That mattered because the matching process runs both ways. A gestational carrier is not a service slot waiting to be filled. She is a person deciding whether to entrust her body, time, and family life to intended parents she is still getting to know.

It was not only us evaluating her. We also had to show who we were. Preparing that presentation forced us to articulate things we had discussed privately for years but never had to say out loud to a stranger who might carry our child.

Costs, contracts, and clarity before moving forward

The emotional call is not the whole process. After a match feels right, formal steps follow.

There is a contract between intended parents and the gestational carrier, supervised by a legal team. Compensation and responsibilities are written down. Scenarios such as miscarriage, twins, or additional monitoring may affect costs. Everyone needs clarity before signing - not because money is the heart of the relationship, but because ambiguity creates stress later. One thing we learned is that difficult scenarios are easier to discuss before a pregnancy begins than after one starts.

Some candidates may request compensation different from what was originally discussed. That is their right. It is also the intended parents’ right to decide whether they can accept. We tried to hold those conversations without turning a person into a line item. This is not buying a woman. It is an agreement involving time, health, risk, effort, and family life.

We are not giving legal advice here, and we are not naming firms or quoting numbers. Our only general takeaway is that transparency before moving forward protects everyone - including the relationship you are trying to build.

A stack of abstract document folders on a calm desk with a pen, with no readable text.

After matching, the process becomes private fast

We expected paperwork. We did not fully expect how quickly the relationship would enter an intimate sphere.

After choosing our gestational carriers, updates started arriving about things we had never discussed with anyone outside a medical context: cycle timing, periods, endometrial preparation, appointment results, and other private health details. That level of closeness can feel surprising even when you have intellectually prepared for surrogacy.

Once matching happens, the process enters a private sphere very quickly. We tried to respond with respect and discretion - grateful for information we needed, careful not to treat her body like a project dashboard.

Choosing is not the finish line

Even after we chose our two gestational carriers, the decision did not feel final-final. Medical steps still had to work. Endometrial preparation had to succeed. Transfers could fail. Pregnancy might not happen on the first attempt.

In some routes, repeated miscarriages or medical conditions can require a change. We hope that never happens. We also know that choosing someone is not the same as guaranteeing an outcome.

That is the stage we are living now: matched, grateful, and still waiting. Cycle tracking, preparation, scheduling, approvals - another waiting room after the emotional intensity of the calls.

A yes is not the finish line. It is the start of another waiting room. It is possible to feel grateful and excited without building the whole future too early. We learned that lesson during egg donor selection. Gestational carrier matching asked us to learn it again.

What we carry forward

Choosing gestational carriers was not a checklist exercise. It was meeting real people, stumbling through awkward calls, relying on translation, trusting an agency to guide the start of a relationship, and accepting that some decisions would be made with our heads and our instincts at the same time.

For months, surrogacy had felt like agencies, clinics, contracts, screenings, and timelines. Meeting our gestational carriers was the first moment it started feeling like people.

We chose two women we felt we could trust. They chose us too. What comes next is medical, logistical, and still uncertain - but the human part of the process finally feels visible in a way profiles never allowed.

If you are earlier in the journey, our article on how we chose an egg donor covers the anonymous, profile-based side of the same path. Our piece on our first trip to Colombia describes when surrogacy became real on the ground. And if you are still comparing providers, how we chose our surrogacy agency is where the long research phase began.

Disclaimer

MySurrogacy does not provide medical, legal, tax, immigration, or financial advice. This article reflects intended-parent experience and is meant for general planning support only. Routes, clinics, and legal frameworks vary; qualified professionals who know your situation should review your plan.