Chapter 1: Introductions

Hi, I’m Kelly.

I’m 29-year old, blue-eyed, brunette with currently too much time on her hands.

That’s why we’re having this 4th wall-breaking conversation while I’m at the hospital.

I’m independently wealthy, highly professional, and very good at my job. I’m always looking to expand my assets and grow my portfolio.

I’m also told I have a propensity for sass.

You catching on yet?

Good.

What do I do for a living, you ask?

I am what they call a career surrogate. I am available for hire to carry your child (or children, later on that bit) from inception, or rather impregnation, to birth.

Most of my clientele are very wealthy and could care less about having to undergo the “struggles of maternity.”

Basically, I’m paid (a lot of money) to get knocked up and make babies for my clients (who have a lot more money).

What are the economics like?

Well, some of that’s confidential, but I can still explain. Per my contract, I am obligated to, like I said, carry the baby from impregnation to term.

I’m paid half of my overall fee once the pregnancy is confirmed, stipends at each of the trimesters and the remaining portion immediately before birth.

The total payment for the surrogacy is based on a number of factors, but pretty much boils down to $X per day calculated across the total time of the pregnancy.

Think like, an annual salary with a signing bonus and pay periods at the trimesters. I technically have an hourly rate but I’m effectively always on the clock.

I can also receive gifts and bonuses from my clients if they’re feeling ever so generous. And they usually are.

What happens if I go past due?

Perfect segue! If I happen to go past due, I effectively go into overtime pay. An additional accrual begins on my payment amount.

I’m currently 3 weeks past due, so this baby’s been clocking up an additional 125% per day onto the final sum.

I’d tell you what that comes out to, but that falls under client privilege. Sorry!

See, I told you I was highly professional. Let’s just say Mama’s doing *very* well for herself.

Why am I at the hospital?

Well, I’m scheduled for induction tomorrow and but my body is showing literally no signs of labor, whatsoever. Also, this baby is an absolute porker. I mean it, she’s like 14lbs.

Nope, you read that right. I’m 3 weeks past due with a 14-pounder and not even close to labor.

The doctors haven’t given me a specific answer, but this has started happening recently.

The last three pregnancies each went overdue. Now that I think of it, I guess it was 4 pregnancies because I carried those triplets to 40 weeks…

Either way, the last 3 singles each decided to stick around past closing time, with each one carrying longer than the last.

I’d feel guilty about charging extra if I didn’t know for a fact that it’s literally a drop in the bucket for my clientele. I’d say you’d be surprised by my clients but that’s only because you’ve probably never heard of any of them.

They’re *that* kind of rich.

I never answered why I’m at the hospital?

Sorry, pregnancy brain I guess. Frankly, the only reason I’m giving this one the boot ahead of time is because she’s holding up my next contract.

And I’m eager to hop on that one. I’ll come back to that later, but it’s gonna be big.

What am I waiting on?

My doctor, Sherlock.

I’m literally just sitting here in this fancy clinic trying to pass the time between the nurses popping in.

Oh, here he comes now. I like this doctor.

Have I had this doctor before?

Yes. I have 4 that have handled all of my pregnancies. This one’s my favorite. For the sake of confidentiality and this random conversation I’m having with you, we’re gonna call him Dr. Brosnan.

Why?

Because he kinda looks like a younger Pierce Brosnan. So many questions out of you, sheesh. He’s also British so just run with it.

He’s got a little bit of salt and pepper in his hair, but he seems younger in the face. I literally have no idea how old this man is.

He’s always very gentle, yet firm. He talks like you’d expect a doctor to talk, very direct but helpful.

• 10 Minutes Later •

Alright, Dr. Brosnan said my vitals are looking good and they’re gonna put me under for the operation in the next few hours. They’ve given me some new pre-market medication that’ll make this very easy on my end.

Just one of the many perks of having clients in the pharma-nooope!

Almost let that one slip! Confidentiality, sorry!!

Anyway, Dr. Brosnan gave me a full check-up. I love it when he puts on his glasses to inspect my belly.

Speaking of inspecting my belly, I am HUGE.

This is definitely my largest single and I’d argue I’m bigger than some of my twins.

I’ll have to tell Dr. Brosnan to take my measurements so I can compare my notes later. Man, I’m getting turned on just thinking about that…

…

…oh… ummm… let me, uhhh…

…yeah…

…shit, ok. Well. Cat’s out of the bag now.

Let me explain.

I think *most* people would agree, pregnancy is not for everyone. Hell, that’s why I have a job.

That’s also the reason I love my job.

It’s because I *love* being pregnant.

I love the cycle, the growth, the feeling of getting bigger and bigger, fuller and fuller. My body growing wider, my boobs getting heavier and filling with milk. The thrill of slowly growing and growing until I’m ready to pop, heavy and bloated, waddling my way around, feeling my body jiggle and slosh.

I love every moment of it.

I love being a glowing symbol of fertility. I love watching and feeling my body swell day by day, week by week, month by month, with each trimester leaving me full, round, and heavy with a huge belly swelling out in front of me.

Wow. That just about got me off.

Oh, you’re still here? Ha! Alright, weirdo!

Gonna have to explain that wetness away when Brosnan comes back. Well, anymore questions? How did I become a surrogate?

That’s a great question.

To do that, we need to go back to the beginning.

Story time, creep. Let’s go!