EP 003 | THE BABY FARM

A glamorous media-savvy attorney turns her expertise towards gaming the system of an unregulated and profitable business…surrogacy.


TRANSCRIPT

34-year-old Texas native Heather Albaugh loved the feeling of being pregnant. “You feel special,” she said about the experience of carrying a new life in her womb for nine months. 

But with two children of her own, Heather and her husband decided they didn’t want any more children. Heather’s plan to recapture the beloved feeling of carrying a child? Surrogacy. 

After posting a few ads online, Heather was contacted by a young couple out of Texas. They quickly decided to move forward with the reproductive process, but after two potential pregnancies failed to take hold, the couple backed out. It was then that Heather became even more invigorated in her search for “surrogates wanted” ads.

“I was responding to anything and everything,” she said. “That’s how desperate I was.”

A user in one of the online surrogacy forums named “Baby Dreams”, a Vegas-based New Zealander named Carla Chambers, reached out to Heather not long after she began advertising her willingness to be a surrogate. “Baby Dreams”, true to her name, offered her the chance to travel internationally to be impregnated with an anonymous embryo. 

While hesitant at first, Heather gained confidence when she learned that she would be traveling to Ukraine with another fellow surrogate, Kimberly Schooley, 29, of Missouri. Kimberly had five children of her own, and had tried surrogacy for another couple previously, but that pregnancy failed. “I was super excited to go,” she said of the chance to go to Ukraine with Heather. 

From the get-go, however, Kimberly’s own mother, a nurse, felt there was something shady about this deal. One name in the deal put both Heather and Kimberly’s nascent worries at ease: Theresa Erickson. Chambers was working with Erickson, a renowned California-based surrogacy lawyer who had made dozens of public appearances as a spokesperson on the intricacies of surrogacy and reproductive law.

After doing their own respective research, Heather and Kimberly trusted that they were in the best hands possible with Erickson. Not only that, but both women were promised $38,000 for their roles as surrogates. They were told that there was already a list of excited parents-to-be awaiting the arrival of their children.

So in the spring of 2010, Heather and Kimberly were off to Ukraine together, where they met Chambers in person for the first time. Chambers even told them that she was a few months pregnant herself when they got there.

But upon returning back to their respective realities in the U.S., Heather and Kimberly uncovered the truth about the women they blindly trusted with their lives. They would soon discover that they were victims, caught deep in a web of lies that would play out like the plot of a Netflix documentary.

Podcast Intro:

You’re listening to Conceiving Crime, the podcast dedicated to Investigating crimes past and present involving sex, procreation, pregnancy, birth, and all things human reproduction. I’m your host, Sami Parker. See the full show notes & links to resources from this episode at ConceivingCrime.com.

ACT I

A few weeks after returning home from Ukraine, Heather and Kimberly learned they were both pregnant – Kimberly with twins. Heather was excited to learn the pregnancy had taken, after struggling with a couple of failed attempts at surrogacy in the past. She wanted to pair up with the Dallas-based family she had previously partnered with to facilitate an adoption of the child. Things got sketchy quickly. 

Chambers–aka “Baby Dreams”—put Heather in touch with a Maryland-based attorney who had been hired to work with her and Erickson. The lawyer, Hilary Neiman, was herself a recognizable name among surrogacy message boards.  But when Heather offered the Texas couple a discount of $20,000 to sign the surrogacy agreement, Neiman, acting as Heather’s attorney, demanded an immediate wire of $35,000. The couple immediately pulled out of the discussion.

This was just one of many incoming red flags. Both well into their second trimesters, neither Heather nor Kimberly had received any form of payment from Chambers and Erickson. On top of that, Chambers told both women that she was having trouble finding other couples to enter into the surrogate agreements.  Both women grew increasingly concerned about the legitimacy of this arrangement. 

At around 18 weeks of pregnancy, and after being told twice by Chambers that families had been set up and fell through, Heather started calling attorneys. 

It was then she learned that Theresa Erickson was under investigation by the FBI. 

About 8 weeks earlier, another surrogacy victim, Melissa Todd had already blown the first whistle on Erickson.

At 40-years-old, Melissa Todd, having been a surrogate once before, was ready for another go at it. Todd’s own journey began a few months before Heather and Kimberly’s, in January 2010. Similarly to the other women, Carla Chambers contacted Melissa through an online surrogacy group, using ads and message boards to peak their interest. Todd was intrigued by the high payday promise of $38,000. This was more than double what she’d made in the past. She also found the international travel to Lviv, a city in Ukraine, an unusual element of the arrangement. Usually, an expectant couple is already lined up looking for a surrogate to pair with them for a joint surrogacy agreement. In this case, Chambers told Todd she would travel to Ukraine and become pregnant first, and a couple would be lined up later. 

Todd was not too alarmed by this, especially because Chambers promised her that no fewer than 45 couples were already “on the list” and anxious for the chance to be paired with a surrogate. Todd, also like Heather and Kimberly, was comforted after learning that not one, but two trusted attorneys in the surrogacy space, Erickson and Neiman, were attached to this arrangement. 

And why would anyone question their legitimacy? A quick Google search showed that Erickson had appeared on radio, news and talk shows, and had even written a book on the subject of international reproductive law. The deal seemed as legitimate as you could get, given her credentials. Todd even spoke with Neiman directly, and was quoted as saying, “She assured me that everything Carla was doing was legal.”

By May, about 16 weeks after traveling to Lviv, Todd was concerned, as no formal agreement had been reached with a couple intending to raise the child. Not only that, but she hadn’t been paid a dime of the promised $38,000. Chambers quickly paid Todd $3,000 and assuaged her concerns by telling her that a family based out of Florida was lined up and ready to sign the dotted line of an agreement. Todd researched and discovered that the family already had 12 children and wanted another. 

But time went on, and Todd saw no more movement. At the 23-week mark, she decided it was time to take action. Todd got in touch with an LA-based reproductive rights attorney named Andrew Vorzimer. Vorzimer, having worked in the industry for some time, was familiar with Erickson, and immediately saw the trail of red flags left in her wake with this arrangement. They called the FBI and set the investigation in motion. 

By the time Heather Albaugh was in touch with her own attorney, she realized that her initial instincts about Theresa Erickson, Carla Chambers and Hilary Neiman were correct.

Using her high-profile status as a well-respected attorney, Theresa Erickson gained the trust of Heather, Kimberly, Melissa and at least a dozen other women in their journeys to surrogacy, with the promise of facilitating agreements by which the surrogates would provide parents-to-be with a newborn baby.

The problem? None of the couples were real. The surrogates had been deceived, because these so-called “surrogacy agreements” were completely fraudulent.  It was all a lie.

Using their insider knowledge of the legal process, Erickson, Chambers and Neiman cheated the system by filing false documents and usurping state mandates. They left a trail of babies with no parents, and a trove of horrifying stories of traumatized pregnant women.

Erickson and her cohorts created an inventory of babies with the intention of selling them like designer-made commodities to willing couples who would pay the highest price.  

This operation became known as ‘the Baby-Selling Ring.’ 

When she learned the truth of the scam, Heather immediately called Kimberly, the friend she bonded with by traveling to Ukraine together, and told her everything. Four days later, Kimberly hemorrhaged while working at a grocery store. She miscarried both twins. 

But the FBI was still gathering enough evidence to bust the ring. Enter our fourth female victim, and pivotal player, who had been duped—this time, on the “buyer side.” 

Fast forward several months to early 2011. Taylor Stein, a New York native and daughter of famous rock concert promoter Howard Stein, was put in touch with Maryland attorney Hilary Neiman–one of our three ‘ringleaders–through a mutual friend. 

Stein, already a mother to a 4-year-old daughter, wanted to adopt a baby boy. But after moving to Los Angeles and exploring the adoption opportunities there, she soon discovered how difficult the process was. Neiman put her worries at ease when, in their customary process of manipulation, Neiman told Stein there was a surrogate who was soon going to give birth, but the original parents had backed out, and they needed an adopter… to the tune of $180,000.

After Stein sent Neiman tens of thousands of dollars worth of wire transfers, Neiman told her that the baby she originally planned to adopt was no longer available…and that Stein would be “acquiring” a different baby. In a 2011 interview with Good Morning America, Stein spoke of the situation saying, 

"That's when I got a little curious…But, again, when you want a family and your dreams are sort of dangling like a carrot, you just get caught up in emotion and you lose your judgment."

Two weeks before the new baby was due, two FBI agents approached Stein. After months of collecting evidence and building a case, the agents brought their findings to Stein, who was eager to help. The FBI asked Stein to wear a wire, but Stein brought her own twist to the sting that finally helped seal the deal:

"I said 'Look, guys, after dealing with this attorney for a year, she's not going to buy this, let me do it my way…. So I told them how I wanted to do it and we rehearsed it and, voila, it turned out to be a good plan."

Stein captured key incriminating statements on tape which led to Neiman’s arrest. By August of 2011, Erickson and her whole posse were in cuffs, over a year after the initial case had been filed by Vorzimer and Melissa Todd. 

Erickson’s ruse unraveled after a 6-year con. The ring’s record of deceiving young mothers into renting their wombs out as surrogates with the promise of making tens of thousands of dollars had come to an end.

ACT II

According to the FBI, at least a dozen couples were confirmed to have been duped into Erickson’s phony adoption set-ups. Melissa Todd believes it to be even more. 

While the babies were real, the legality of the arrangements was not. It was a con–a long one. Erickson was central to it because like all confidence tricks, the women’s scheme involved luring their victims into a sense of trust. 

Theresa Erickson spent ten years practicing law and building a name for herself in San Diego as one of the leading international attorneys on reproductive legalese, specifically surrogacy and egg donation. Erickson has written books, spoken on major news outlets and offered her insights internationally about the legality and legitimacy of surrogate births and family planning. As such, she had proven herself a trusted figure within the industry. 

At face value, Erickson was an advocate of traditional family values and hard work. Erickson put herself through law school while raising two children, with a husband, John, who was in the military.  Erickson claimed that she was drawn to family formation law because of her own experiences as a surrogate, and due to her sister’s struggles with infertility. 

In an article published by the American Fertility Association in January of 2011, Erickson shared some of her personal background and experiences with fertility and reproductive health. Erickson initially took interest in the area of family planning by choosing to become an egg donor for several couples who desperately wanted a child. She talks about her sister, who also struggled with the issue of infertility, as an inspiration as well.

The expertise Erickson accrued over time gave her the knowledge to exploit the fertility system’s legal loopholes, and her reputation gave her the perfect cover to get away with it. She would need willing accomplices for her plan to work, of course. 

Enter Carla Chambers, the woman Heather Albaugh first knew by her anonymous forum nickname, “Baby Dreams.”

Chambers was a valuable partner to Erickson for several reasons. The Las Vegas-based Kiwi was a six-time surrogate herself–and more importantly, already had a history of running a surrogacy criminal racket in her home country of New Zealand. Much like she would eventually do for Erickson, Chambers found would-be surrogates in New Zealand by posting ads online that promised they would be artificially inseminated and paid $10,000 for carrying the child to term, traveling to the U.S. with all expenses paid to give birth there. 

Chambers was convicted in 2000 on seven counts of fraud in a Wellington District Court. She had misrepresented herself as a gynecologist to obtain prescription fertility drugs for a 16-year-old girl whom she’d illegally hired to carry a baby for American Intended Parents. Chambers gave this girl the drugs to increase her chances of conceiving, a move that resulted in the 16-year-old developing ovarian cysts which needed to be surgically removed. Interestingly enough, Chambers was not charged for running a surrogacy operation because there were no laws prohibiting the act in New Zealand at the time.

Chambers knew the landscape of the surrogacy game well, and over the course of 6 years, from 2005 to 2011, she and Erickson worked together to refine their business model. Chambers acted as a liaison between the attorney and the surrogates to build trust with the female clients who would agree to carry these children in exchange for a fee, anywhere between $38-$45,000. Chambers and Erickson assured the surrogates that agreements with intended parents were already in place, even though the young women never saw the agreements in hand. They took it all on blind faith–in large part because of Erickson’s reputation. 

How was Chambers able to run almost an identical scam to her New Zealand venture in the United States? Erickson, who was the ringleader, knew the California and international laws surrounding surrogacy inside and out, making it easy for her to manipulate the process to her benefit. Once she and Chambers partnered up, they brought on Neiman to “round out” their criminal gang.

Both Neiman and Chambers were intimately familiar with the process of surrogacy, and so became trusted accomplices who helped Erickson recruit vulnerable women, many of whom would be impregnated with an embryo, only to lose it fairly early on in the gestational process. Surrogacy carries a high risk of miscarriage.

In a legal surrogacy agreement, there are two parties involved; the female surrogate herself, known as the Gestational Carrier, and the couple who plans to take custody of the child (and foot the bill), the Intended Parents. In the U.S.,  there must be a signed agreement between the surrogate and the Intended Parents before an embryo is ever implanted. 

Here’s how the scam worked. Under California law, it is only legal for an Intended Parent and their chosen surrogate to carry a child if a surrogacy agreement is in place before she is impregnated with the embryo. This arrangement is known as a Pre-Birth Order. The timing here is crucial, as the name implies, as the agreement must be dated before the surrogate undergoes the embryonic transfer.

However, if a woman is carrying a child and wants to give it up for adoption, it is illegal to pay her beyond her medical expenses. Why? Because it is considered human trafficking for the Intended Parents to seek adoption for a fee after conception. If intended parents were selected after conception, they would be required to go through the more formal and much more arduous legal process of adoption. In an adoption, the process becomes exceedingly more complicated. The hopeful parents are subjected to a grueling vetting process, costly fees and other complex hoops to jump through, which are not an issue in the case of a surrogacy agreement – hence the appeal of choosing surrogacy over adoption.

In order to make their scam work, Chambers and Neiman would find young women who were interested in getting paid to be surrogates. Erickson lied to these women by telling them that Intended Parents had already agreed to the terms—as would have been legally required in California.

But without an agreement in hand, how could Erickson proceed with the scheme? In the United States doctors require copies of these signed agreements before proceeding with the embryonic transfer. Even if too-trusting surrogates themselves weren’t asking to read the fine print, the medical professionals who were necessary to make the scheme work would. Erickson had a solution to this tricky problem: she sent the surrogates to Ukraine to be impregnated. In Ukraine in the early 2000s the laws surrounding surrogacy, at least the laws that allow for surrogates to receive a fertilized embryo, were much more lax. 

These unsuspecting women were sent to a foreign country to be impregnated with anonymous embryos (embryos in which both the sperm and egg donors are both anonymous, as opposed to one of them being genetically related to the mother or father, although Chambers told Heather and Kimberly that many of the embryos came from college students in the Lviv area), under the completely false pretense that there were intended parents back in the U.S. who had agreed to this arrangement. 

But what if the surrogate miscarries? 

Erickson had a hack for that, too. Erickson would not begin the search for “buyers” until the second trimester, when the pregnancy was considered more viable and less likely to miscarry. She advertised the children as being up for adoption, under the guise that the original intended parents had dropped out of the agreement. She would find couples, offering this lie and ultimately creating an urgency for a willing couple needed for this now parent-less baby. The asking price for these unborn babies went for $100,000 to $180,000 per child – more than double the average cost for an adoption in California. For would-be parents yearning for a child, it’s worth entering a surrogacy agreement with a higher price tag in order to avoid the arduous red tape of the formal adoption process, which can take years as opposed to months.

At this stage, Erickson manipulated the surrogates once again, telling them that the “intended parents” had backed out of their agreement, leaving the surrogate with high levels of anxiety given the uncertainty of this new supposed development.

After “new” parents were found who were willing to assume responsibility for the supposed failed arrangements, Erickson would pre-date the Pre-Birth Orders and file them with the San Diego Superior Court. It was imperative that the surrogates give birth in California due to one crucial loophole in the legal system – At the time, California was the only US state that allowed the intended parents of a surrogate to be placed on the birth certificate via a pre-birth order, which allowed the Intended parents to immediately take custody of the baby without having to go through a formal adoption. Since then, more and more states have started allowing for similar pre-birth orders, like New York, Washington and Arizona.

By lying to all parties and jumping through tricky legal loopholes, Erickson, Chambers and Neiman made money–in what essentially amounted to harvesting babies for profit. The women had built a baby farm–and business was booming. 

Historical and Legal Background

Though surrogacy as a profit-making venture is relatively new, the concept itself is ancient. The practice of men impregnating mistresses or maids to bear children in place of their infertile wives has existed since long before “The Handmaid’s Tale” hit TV screens in 2017. There’s the famous story of Sarah and Hagar in the Book of Genesis, of course. The practice of surrogacy was also permitted in ancient Babylon among upper class wealthy families with fertility issues to prevent divorce. 

Simply put, the definition of surrogate is ‘one who is appointed to act in place of another. A substitute, especially in regard to a specific role or office.’ In modern society, surrogacy seems like settled science; a woman is impregnated with a fertilized embryo – either genetically related to one of the Intended Parents, or entirely anonymous – the woman then carries out the pregnancy, gives birth and the Intended Parents ride off into the horizon with their new baby…while the surrogate, having borne the physical consequences that come with pregnancy and birth, is left with a paycheck and a long recovery, meant to live the rest of her life as she sees fit. In other words, surrogacy has become nothing more than a transaction.

But if surrogacy is a transaction–that makes human beings a commodity, with all the moral and legal implications that entails. 

Let’s recall that unique California law – a surrogate and the intended parents must enter into a parental agreement before the surrogate is impregnated with the fertilized embryo, meaning both parties must sign the dotted line agreeing that each of them understand that the sole purpose of this surrogate is to carry a child who is intended to be given to a different, unrelated set of parents. If the agreement materializes after conception, this transaction would be considered human trafficking

The simple matter of timing is the only thing that legally differentiates surrogacy from human trafficking. The agreement is between two parties–with little concern for the interests or rights of the actual human being that is the end result of said agreement. 

So what happens when these practices are taken internationally? Needless to say, the life of the child is the least of any governmental body’s concern. According to former Berkeley law professor Seema Mohapatra, the widespread issues surrounding international surrogacy often result in cases of so-called “stateless babies.” 

The U.S., India and Ukraine are the top 3 global leaders in the surrogacy industry–in large part because the lack of oversight and lax regulations in these regions allow for a somewhat easier process for embryonic transference. Intended parents often travel to other countries to find foreign surrogates, but problems inevitably arise once the parents try to return home with their newborn.

The case of Baby Manji, or “The Baby M” case, highlights significant bioethical and legal dilemmas surrounding international commercial surrogacy. In 2008, Baby Manji was born to a surrogate mother in India for a Japanese couple, Ikufumi and Yuki Yamada. Complications arose when the Yamadas divorced one month before the birth of Baby M, with Ikufumi wanting to raise the child while Yuki did not. As Ikufumi’s sperm was used in the fertilization of the embryo, Yuki could not justify raising the child of her soon-to-be ex-husband. Legal challenges emerged regarding Baby Manji's citizenship, as Japan required birthright citizenship and India didn’t recognize Ikufumi as a single adoptive father. Neither the surrogate nor the intended mother claimed the baby, making it impossible for either country to legally issue a passport for the infant. After legal wrangling and Baby Manji’s treatment for illness, the case escalated to India’s Supreme Court, which ultimately allowed Baby Manji to leave India with a certificate of identity, enabling Ikufumi to bring her to Japan. The case underscored the woeful inadequacies in laws governing surrogacy, adoption, and citizenship in the context of international surrogacy arrangements.

The case of Patrice and Aurelia Le Roch further highlights the legal challenges, and perhaps even reasons to stand as exhibit A as to why Erickson and her ring chose Ukraine to deal with in the first place. In 2010, the French Le Roch couple traveled to Ukraine to have twins via a gestational surrogate, as surrogacy is illegal in France. After the twins were born, the couple attempted to obtain French passports by hiding the surrogacy details from the French embassy, but their application was denied due to suspicions of surrogacy and lack of documentation. The twins were left stateless since Ukraine didn’t grant them citizenship either. Desperate, Patrice and his father tried to smuggle the babies into Hungary, leading to charges of child trafficking. While the babies were briefly taken away, they were eventually returned to their parents, who were fined for the smuggling attempt.

Trial Aftermath

“About 1400 couples a year in this country turn to surrogate mothers to bear their children. People who run surrogate agencies say this case has blighted the whole field…there are so many people who are looking to do a good honest job, and here’s somebody who took their trust and abused it. All of us are really saddened and upset by this incident.”

While many surrogacy advocates and experts deride Erickson’s case as a blemish on the business of surrogacy and the benefits it can provide for couples struggling with infertility, the case also serves to highlight the bigger questions about the value of the practice itself – are people entitled to get the family they want, by any means necessary? The less natural a process becomes, the more important the morality of the act has to be carefully considered. 

Even Erickson herself admitted to the lack of government oversight in the fertility industry. In an interview with NBC San Diego, Erickson was quoted saying; “Legal has not caught up with medicine and medicine has created this technology that the law hasn’t kept up with,” referring to the surrogacy industry as the “Wild, Wild West.” Even a woman who took advantage of the system saw its flaws for what they were.

In regards to implementing new regulations over the practice, Erickson says; “The industry has tried to do it for years and the industry hasn’t done much of anything and it needs to be done…  They want things to stay the way they are because of the money but it just can’t stay the way they are, it just can’t.”

Erickson did show remorse for her actions.  "I made it clear in court, my judgment somehow became clouded," she said, after her sentencing. "I told the judge whether it was ego, whether it was a moral crusade, no matter what it was I somehow lost my way and failed to stop these things from happening."  Erickson was sentenced to 14 months of time, with five of those months spent in prison. The remaining nine months were spent in home confinement.

Erickson: "The sentencing was tough. The resigning was tough, telling my family and going to my husband and having to tell him, telling my children was tough. But the hardest thing was to look at those victims in the eye and hear them tell me what they went through. That was truly the hardest, and I mean that from my heart."

ACT III 

“‘I regret the fact that I got involved with 3 criminals’; Heather, who cooperated with the FBI and did not give the child to the surrogacy agency, had the baby, a little girl, and arranged for a friend who’d been unsuccessful at getting pregnant, to adopt the child.”

Erickson, through tears, admitted to lying to the California courts by submitting fake documents that made it look like the babies were from legal surrogacy agreements.  She also defrauded a state program to cover medical costs for the births, so that the money from the adoption was not used in its place. Erickson was ordered to pay a $70,000 fine, serve three years of supervised release, and was sentenced alongside her co-conspirators. 

"I truly lost my way." Both Erickson and Chambers faced the surrogate mothers in the courtroom and offered apologies.

"I want to personally tell you that I know I have done horribly wrong," Erickson said. After the sentencing, Erickson approached Heather Albaugh and the two embraced in a hug, with Albaugh later saying, "I forgive her for what she did because she owned up to the fact that she had committed a crime and she was remorseful.”

As for Chambers and Neiman? 

Carla Chambers received five months in prison, seven months of home confinement, and had to forfeit over $180,000. She served her sentence and was released in 2012. Just 3 years later and while still on probation for her previous crime, Chambers was arrested again. This time she was running an illegal puppy mill out of her Las Vegas home. The same judge, Battaglia, commented on her actions, calling them “abhorrent”. The colorful Kiwi career criminal Chambers served 10 months for this crime. She was less publicly contrite than Erickson, reportedly accusing the media of “hounding her” and being “full of shit.” 

Hilary Neiman was sentenced to 12 months of custody and fines totaling over $150,000. The FBI investigating the case highlighted how these attorneys took advantage of vulnerable people who wanted to start families.

As for the dozen or so babies who were placed in homes with adopted parents as a result of Erickson’s scheme, it was ruled by the courts that they would be allowed to stay with their families. 

To this day, Erickson remains permanently disbarred in the state of California. 

The womb of the mother is the primordial covenant of life. When infants are born, they are biologically predisposed to desire their mother. Infants in-utero are capable of responding to external stimuli as early as the third trimester. And the mother’s voice is the most common sound a baby responds to while pre-born. Bonding methods such as singing, massaging the belly, playing music, even simply talking to the baby have been linked to an easier breastfeeding experience for mothers who practice them.

It’s truths like these that make us recognize the role of a parent in a child’s life. Especially the mother. Now, imagine being born for the purpose of being removed from your biological mother and sold to another. With modern science, your dream family can be hand-crafted and sold like a DIY Etsy project.

Think of how much sympathy we feel for people who never knew their biological parents – most of us personally know someone in this situation. Maybe a friend lost their parents in an accident, maybe their grandparents raised them, maybe they were raised as a foster child. On some intrinsic level, as much as culture may want to deny it, we as human beings can still identify these scenarios as anomalies against the traditional nuclear family system. Even people raised in loving adoptive homes often wonder about the woman who gave birth to them and the man who fathered them. Losing a biological parent has emotional and even biological ramifications on the human body and spirit. Never knowing that parent, on the other hand, creates a whole different set of anomalous consequences, the extent to which modern medicine hasn’t even begun to grasp.

In this case, a corrupt group of people who know the ins and outs of the surrogacy industry used their privileged knowledge to illegally gain an advantage and a financial profit, banking on the sincere desire of women to help families have children. Every lucrative industry in the world is vulnerable to opportunistic scam artists and duplicitous people trying to make a quick buck–that’s been true since the dawn of time. But what do we say when abhorrent and blatantly unethical behavior affects the most vulnerable beings among our society: children? 

The story also calls into question a bigger issue of the increasingly gray area that is objective morality in relation to the issue of so-called “reproductive rights.” Do we have the “right” as a society to permit surrogacy? What is the cost to our society if we accept manufacturing children for financial gain is acceptable–and who pays the price?

Thanks for listening to Conceiving Crime. If you liked this episode, be sure to leave us a five star review on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts.


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