Hi all — it’s been a while!

I have some exciting news coming your way, and I can’t wait to share it with you.

But first, a quick update. It’s been five months since Jaime and I welcomed our son into the world, and life has been a whirlwind of 3 a.m. bottles, endless diapers, very little sleep, and more happiness than we could have imagined.

And somehow, amid all that chaos, I’ve managed to finish something I’ve been working on for a very long time.

Something deeply personal. Something that started long before our son was born. And something I can’t wait to share with all of you, especially those who’ve followed our journey from the beginning.

I’ll have more to say very soon. For now, stay tuned.

Let’s just say it’s been a long time in the making. ❤️

Subscribe now

As you may remember from Chapter 17, in 2025 we chose the word nesting. It was a year of preparation — of tending, arranging, and quietly imagining a life that felt just out of reach but very much on its way.

This year, we chose a word that felt joyful and exhilarating the moment we named it — one that made us smile. A word we almost don’t dare to say out loud, yet one that feels like the most natural continuation of last year’s choice. It is a word full of hope and wonder, a word that carries the quiet thrill of life made new.

Read more

When you’re just starting out as intended parents, figuring out what steps to take—and how much everything costs—can feel like a lot. There are so many different expenses to wrap your head around: legal, escrow, insurance, agency fees, clinic costs, egg banks…the list really does go on.

What helped us was putting everything into one Excel workbook. It became our go-to place to make sense of it all: comparing different options, tracking where we were in the process, and doing the math on how far we still had to go before we could cover the full journey.

The best part? We’ve turned that workbook into a template you can download and use for yourself! It’s definitely not meant to be a one-size-fits-all checklist—every journey is different—but it’s a starting point you can tweak however you need. Add steps, remove steps, make it yours. Our hope is that it helps you feel just a little less overwhelmed than we did in those early days.

So, without further ado: Danny and Jaime’s Ultimate Surrogacy Workbook!

Welcome to Danny and Jaime's Ultimate Surrogacy Workbook (Beta)

Welcome aboard! 🚂 Our Ultimate Surrogacy Workbook is here to help you keep track of all the steps, costs, and moving parts along the way. Think of it as your travel buddy for this wild ride.

First, some disclaimers: this workbook is not legal advise and is not intended to provide an exhaustive list of steps to reach parenthood. Rather, it is a template that we built based on the workbook we put together for our own journey. Our hope is that you can use it as a starting point to build your own and adjust it to what makes most sense to you.

Danny and Jaime's Ultimate Surrogacy Workbook (Beta)

26.8KB ∙ XLSX file

Download

We've developed this surrogacy workbook to help intended parents make sense of the steps they need to take, compare options as they consider service providers, and put together a budget that helps them understand how they will fund their surrogacy journey.

Download

How to Use This Workbook

The workbook has four tabs:

Tab 1. Read Me First
The instructions tab (same content as what you’re reading now)—you’re already crushing it. This one’s just to get you settled in.

Tab 2. Clinic
All the steps you’ll go through on the IVF side of things, from square one all the way to embryo transfer.

Tab 3. Agency
Everything agency-related: finding your gestational carrier and then working with your agency right up through delivery.

Tab 4. Budget
The money tab! This is where you can crunch the numbers, see where you stand, and plan how to fund the journey.

A Few Pro Tips

• Only type in the pink cells. Everything else is magic (a.k.a. formulas) and will auto-update.

• Green = good news. The workbook will highlight the lowest-cost option in green.

• Check it off. Use the “check” column to mark your progress and keep that satisfying momentum going.

• Make it yours. The notes column is all yours for thoughts, reminders, or even mini pep talks.

Why We’re Calling This a Beta

We’re still on our own surrogacy journey, which means some things are works in progress. As we learn, we’ll keep tweaking and sharing updated versions—so consider this a “living” workbook that will only get better.

When Jaime and I first started immersing ourselves in the world of gestational surrogacy, we didn’t realize just how many players were involved in the process: agencies, clinics, escrow accounts, lawyers, egg banks, insurance—the list felt endless. Since some agencies advertised “all-inclusive” packages and promised a single price for the entire journey, we assumed we’d only need to deal with one party. We were wrong.

We had a lot to learn. We met with agencies and clinics, listened to other intended parents, and slowly began piecing together what made sense for us. Along the way, we picked up a few lessons that may be helpful if you’re just starting out. This post is about one of the first big questions you’ll face: should you begin with an agency or with a clinic?

What’s the difference?

A surrogacy agency is the service provider that screens potential gestational carriers (often mislabeled as “surrogates”) and helps intended parents find someone who will ultimately carry their child. Agencies work with both heterosexual couples (who, for various reasons, can’t or choose not to carry) and same-sex couples.

A clinic provides the medical services that make surrogacy possible—helping you create embryos through in-vitro fertilization (IVF) and, once you’ve matched with a gestational carrier, performing the embryo transfer that begins the pregnancy.

Both agencies and clinics come in all shapes and sizes. When Jaime and I started investigating, we met with several. Some were well-established with staff across the country, glossy websites, and Instagram ads that followed us around. Others were, frankly, questionable—like the “agency” that turned out to be one guy renting a co-working space by the hour (red flag!). Clinics vary just as much, from big-name hospitals to small practices in out-of-the-way towns. Choosing the right fit isn’t always straightforward.

So—where should you start?

The short (and frustrating) answer: it depends.

Below are a few factors to help you think through the decision. For this post, I’ll assume you’ve decided to work with an agency rather than attempt a solo journey (a valid path, but not one we personally pursued).

Start with an agency if timing is your biggest concern

Of all the steps in the surrogacy process, the longest by far is waiting for a match. Be cautious of agencies that promise to find you a gestational carrier within a couple of months. Post-Covid, timelines have stretched significantly, and the average we heard quoted was 15–18 months from the moment you sign with an agency (and pay the initial fees). If you’re eager to get moving, it makes sense to start that countdown as soon as possible.

Another advantage of starting with an agency is that they often have established partnerships with clinics. Once you sign on, they may recommend clinics they know and trust—relationships that can make a big difference once you’re matched and the logistics of medical appointments begin.

And if you’re planning to pursue surrogacy internationally, beginning with an agency is almost essential. Since the clinic usually needs to be in the same country as the gestational carrier, choosing a country (and therefore an agency) first helps you avoid the enormous headache of trying to move embryos across borders.

Start with a clinic if budget is your biggest concern

The challenge with agencies is the upfront cost. When we signed with ours (spoiler alert: more on that later), we paid $40,000 just to get on their waitlist. That’s before any of the medical expenses at the clinic even began.

Most intended parents don’t have hundreds of thousands of dollars sitting in the bank. One of the best pieces of advice we received early on was: don’t think about the entire process at once. Take it one step at a time. Not only is that more manageable emotionally, it’s also more practical financially.

Starting with a clinic can be a way to take that first step. If you have some initial savings—or if your insurance or employer benefits cover fertility treatment—you may want to begin with IVF. Even though it doesn’t get you closer to a match, having embryos created can feel like real progress and keep you motivated while you continue saving for the next stage.

Starting with a clinic also makes sense if you already have someone in your life who has offered to be your gestational carrier. (That said, don’t get ahead of yourself—age, health, and prior pregnancies all matter when it comes to being a good candidate.)

Finally, clinics can sometimes recommend agencies they’ve worked with, or connect you with other patients who can share their experiences. The main drawback is time: until you sign with an agency, the clock on finding a match hasn’t even started. And storing embryos can get expensive if they end up waiting around.

Some closing thoughts

At the end of the day, there’s no single “right” starting point—only the one that fits your circumstances, resources, and patience. For us, the decision came after countless conversations, late-night spreadsheet sessions, and hearing stories from others who had walked this path before. However you choose to begin—agency first, clinic first, or somewhere in between—what matters most is that you’re taking a step forward. Every step brings you closer to the moment you finally hold your child, and that reminder can make the maze of decisions feel a little less overwhelming.

When Jaime and I first walked into the Men Having Babies conference, we felt like we’d landed in a foreign country without a map. There were acronyms we didn’t understand, price tags that made our heads spin, and smiling parents on stage talking about things we couldn’t even imagine yet. We left with stacks of brochures, a tote bag full of trinkets, but more questions than answers.

Looking back, we realize that even the questions can feel overwhelming at first. Some of them include details—like laws, insurance, and financial fine print—that seem designed to make your chest tighten with anxiety. If you’re feeling that way, pause. Take a deep breath. Remind yourself that while this process can be complicated, it is also profoundly exciting. Each question is just a stepping stone toward meeting your future child, and you don’t have to figure it all out in one sitting.

As we reflect on that time, we’ve put together a list of the questions we wish someone had handed us before we ever set foot in that room. If you’re just diving into the world of surrogacy, here are 15 questions that can help you walk in with more clarity than we did:

To panelists:

1. What is the difference between a surrogacy agency and an IVF clinic?
When you’re just starting out, it’s easy to lump everything under “surrogacy.” But agencies and clinics play very different roles, and you’ll need both. Agencies help match you with a gestational carrier and manage logistics; clinics handle the science of creating embryos and transferring them. Back then, this distinction was not at all obvious to us.

2. What is the difference between traditional surrogacy and gestational surrogacy?
Traditional surrogacy means the carrier is also the egg donor, making her biologically related to the child. Gestational surrogacy (the most common type today) means the carrier has no genetic connection to the baby. Understanding this distinction early helps you follow the rest of the conversations. Women carrying babies in the traditional surrogacy route are referred to as ‘surrogates’, while women who carry babies in the gestational surrogacy route are called ‘gestational carriers’.

3. What does a typical timeline for a surrogacy journey look like?
From choosing an agency to matching with a carrier to pregnancy and birth, the process often takes 18–24 months. Knowing what’s “normal” helps set realistic expectations and makes the waiting less stressful.

4. What are other paths to fatherhood, and what are the pros and cons of surrogacy?
Surrogacy is just one option among several—others include adoption, foster-to-adopt, or co-parenting arrangements. Each path has its own challenges, costs, timelines, and rewards. Asking panelists to lay out the landscape helps you understand why surrogacy may (or may not) be the right choice for you. It can also help you gauge who in the conference is truly invested in helping you find the path that fits your family best, or if they’re mainly trying to sell you a service.

To lawyers:

5. What legal protections exist in the state where surrogacy happens?
Your carrier’s state laws matter more than your own. Some states allow intended parents to be named on the birth certificate from day one; others require a second-parent adoption. Clarity upfront saves heartache later. Make sure to check out this surrogacy laws map for a state-by-state description of surrogacy regulations. If you’re going the international-route, make sure you talk to local legal counsel. I’ve heard several surrogacy agencies mislead people as they talk about the state of surrogacy laws in my home country, Mexico. Triple-check before you sign.

6. What should I know about international surrogacy laws, especially for same-sex parents?
Surrogacy laws vary dramatically from country to country. Some countries prohibit it altogether, some allow it only for heterosexual couples, and others have well-established systems inclusive of same-sex parents. If you’re considering working with a surrogate abroad, you’ll need to understand not just the laws in the country where the birth takes place, but also how your own country will recognize your child’s citizenship and your parental rights.

To clinics:

7. What are your success rates, and how should we interpret them?
Serious clinics will have recorded success rates in creating embryos, and in successful transfers that led to a live birth. If there’s a clinic you like, search their success rates in the ART database to make sure that what they’re saying matches what they report every year. You may also want to ask your clinic if they work with an egg bank, or an egg-donor agency, since that will be an essential part of creating embryos.

To agencies:

8. How do you ensure that gestational carriers are entering into surrogacy with free and informed consent? How do you screen gestational carriers to ensure they are not financially strained and only coming into surrogacy out of financial need?
This one is particularly relevant for agencies that offer international programs. Agencies should be able to explain how they screen carriers to ensure they are not in financial crisis and are making the choice freely—not out of desperation. Asking this early on helps you feel confident that your journey is rooted in ethics and mutual respect.

9. What is included (and NOT included) in your guaranteed surrogacy journey?
The term “guarantee” sounds comforting, but it’s not the same as “all-inclusive.” Many “guaranteed programs” cover only agency services, not IVF costs or carrier compensation adjustments. Understanding what’s excluded is just as important as what’s included.

10. Can you put us in touch with couples who have gone through the process with you, and can we speak with them on our own about their experience?
Hearing directly from other intended parents who’ve worked with the agency can give you a clearer picture than brochures or polished presentations ever will. A good agency will encourage this kind of transparency and not filter the conversation.

11. What resources do you have to help us connect with other couples who are in the same process?
A good agency will care not just about finding you a gestational carrier, but about making sure you feel accompanied and supported throughout your journey. Whether that’s peer groups or informal meetups, these connections can make a world of difference.

To those who are already parents:

12. What are the realistic total costs we should budget for, and what can cause them to rise?
Sticker prices don’t tell the full story. Travel, legal fees, unexpected medical procedures, and lost wages for your carrier can all add up. Knowing the possible “surprise” expenses upfront makes for more grounded planning. The best information on this does not come from agencies or panelists. It comes from folks who went through the journey and can be upfront about the surprise costs that came along the way.

13. Looking back now, what part of the process brought you the most joy?
It’s easy to get stuck in the stress and logistics. Parents reminding you of the joyful moments helps keep the bigger picture in focus.

To other intended parents:

14. Why did you choose surrogacy? Did you consider other options?
If you end up in a surrogacy conference, odds are that folks are there because they are considering having a child through this method. However, there are many different avenues to parenthood, and surrogacy doesn’t have to be your only choice. Speaking to other folks in the room can help you learn about other alternatives they’ve considered (or are in the process of considering).

To yourself (and your partner, if you have one):

15. What will I do throughout this journey to make sure I put my mental health first?
It’s easy to get swept up in the stress, the waiting, and the what-ifs. Building in intentional pauses at every step—whether that’s after a medical update, a legal milestone, or a big decision—gives you space to breathe and remind yourself that this is also an exciting journey. Taking moments to step back and say, things will work out, helps keep the process grounded in hope rather than just anxiety.

One last thought: there is no such thing as a dumb question in this process. Don’t be afraid to raise your hand, go back to the basics, or ask something you feel you “should” already know. Many people in the surrogacy world have been immersed in it for years, and they sometimes forget that newcomers need to start with the fundamentals before they can swim in the deep end. Giving yourself permission to ask those simple questions is one of the best ways to stay grounded, informed, and confident along the way.

I climbed the last flight of stairs, careful to step over puke, condom wrappers, and puddles of what I could only hope was rainwater. Fresh air hit me as we emerged from the underground maze of the 42nd Street subway station. Near the entrance, a man lay asleep on the sidewalk, undisturbed by the rush of Midtown. A rotting toenail peeked from his worn-out left sneaker. Around him, cardboard boxes formed a makeshift wind barrier, and abandoned takeout containers lined his side, their contents rotting in the morning air. A rat nibbled on what looked like pizza scraps from a half-open box.

We merged into the flow of pedestrians with the skill of seasoned drivers joining a freeway. After seven years in the city, Jaime and I had perfected the art of navigating crowds without hesitation. We dodged street sellers hawking counterfeit Louis Vuitton handbags, Elmos offering $10 photo ops, and wannabe rappers pushing their CDs on baffled tourists (who even listens to CDs anymore?). I LOVE NY bags stuffed with T-shirts (made in China) swung from the hands of passersby. In recent years, Ecuadorian newcomers had joined the scene, pushing carts of churros and mango slices, their kids selling candy bars in winter and bottled water in the sweltering summer. Times Square is a chaotic collage of cultures, languages, and shameless hustles — a spectacle tourists flock to and locals avoid. For us, it was strictly a nighttime destination, a place for our seasonal fix of show tunes — the one cliché we embraced without apology.

But this time, it was barely 9 a.m., and we weren’t headed to the Barrymore or the Neil Simon. Instead, we walked into the lobby of the Westin Hotel and rode the escalator up to a registration table. A long banner overhead read in bold: Men Having Babies – 2021 New York City Conference. A line of same-sex male couples waited for lanyards, sipping iced Americanos. We thought we’d left the chaos of the streets behind. We had no idea we were stepping into an even wilder world: gestational surrogacy.

The term itself was new to us. We knew nothing about escrow accounts, egg donor banks, pre-birth court orders, or PGT testing. Growing up in Mexico City, neither of us had known many gay couples raising children. Aside from one friend who’d gone through the process, our only references came from the tired tropes of sitcoms.

And yet, there we were, spending a Saturday morning at a conference hosted by a nonprofit “helping same-sex male couples find their way through the intricate — yet rewarding — path to parenthood.” Most of our friends were still sleeping off a late night in Hell’s Kitchen and wouldn’t be up for another three or four hours. For them, kids weren’t on the radar — either because they’d never considered it a realistic option for gay men, because it seemed too “heteronormative,” and well, “fuck the Patriarchy!”. Or because they didn’t have the six-figure bank account balance we would soon learn was required for surrogacy. Neither, of course, did we.

The event’s schedule was relentless — panels from 9 a.m. to early evening in two packed conference rooms. Titles included The Legal Considerations of Surrogacy, Choosing an Egg Donor: Egg Bank vs. Fresh Cycle, and The Psychosocial Aspects of Surrogacy. Sixty-minute sessions meant panelists racing through dense information while we scrambled to jot notes in the small notebooks handed out at registration.

Next to the conference rooms was the “marketplace” — a ballroom packed with service providers and sponsors. The sessions might have been nonprofit, but the ballroom was pure capitalism: sales reps chasing commissions, booths stacked with glossy pamphlets, branded pens, magnets, tote bags, and even cupcakes topped with blue and pink frosting and tiny sperm-shaped sprinkles. We asked the same question at every booth: “What’s the total cost of the process?” No one gave a straight answer. “Well, it depends…” was the standard opening, followed by a partial breakdown that never added up to a full picture, caveats and disclaimers aplenty.

By the time we reached our last stop — a booth decked out in balloons — I was drained. A salesman in a T-shirt two sizes too small handed us his card and yet another rainbow-colored knickknack. My patience was gone.
“Just give it to me straight,” I said. “What’s the end-to-end cost? Or are you going to give me a half-answer like everyone else?”

Unfazed, he replied, “My partner and I just finished our own journey last November. All in all, you’re looking at about $180,000 to $200,000.”

Two hundred thousand dollars. I couldn’t even wrap my head around that figure. It was more than Jaime and I earned together in a year, more than a down payment on a house, and far more than what sat in our dwindling savings account.

“You’re telling me people just have a spare $200k sitting around for this?” I asked.

“Most do,” he said without hesitation. Then came the line that would echo in my head for years: “The truth is, surrogacy is expensive, and it is not for everyone.” Translation: If you have to ask, it’s probably not for you. Now, stop wasting my time.

The hope I’d been holding onto shattered. Suddenly, the stock photos of smiling dads with chubby-cheeked babies hanging on the ballroom walls turned into taunts — visions of a future I might never have. My chest tightened. The crowd closed in. I needed air.

“Let’s go,” I said to Jaime. He hesitated — hadn’t I dragged him out of bed at an ungodly hour for this? “Are you sure?” he asked. One look at my face must have been enough. He took my hand, and we left.

We rushed past Elmos, ticket hawkers, souvenir shops, and the flashing lights of Times Square. But this time, I noticed something else: dads everywhere. Dads carrying babies, holding toddlers’ hands, laughing with their kids. Each one a mirror reflecting what I wanted most but might never have.

I finally stopped in a quiet courtyard tucked between skyscrapers. I sat on a bench and felt warm tears spill down my cheeks. Jaime sat beside me, silent, holding my hand. After a few minutes, I whispered, “It’s so unfair. Straight couples just sleep together and make babies — sometimes without even wanting them. Why does it have to be this way for us?”

If there’s an optimist in our marriage, it isn’t me. I’m a dreamer, yes, but I can also spiral into hopelessness faster than anyone I know. Jaime, my grounded, rational lawyer of a husband, is my counterbalance. That day, he squeezed my hand, and said, “If this is something we truly want, we’ll find a way.” He paused, met my eyes and continued: “Yes, it’s harder for us. Yes, there will be hurdles. But think about it — our child will be one of the most wanted kids ever born.”

This is the first chapter of my memoir: “Us in the Making. A Memoir of Surrogacy, Resilience, and our Path to Fatherhood”. To be among the first to know when the book is published, subscribe to my Substack.