Vietnamese gay man's US route to surrogacy, fatherhood

His parents had suspected for years, but were still caught off guard when he finally admitted it. His mother, Ngoc, sobbed while his father comforted both of them, saying "It’s good that you’ve finally said it."

"We only want you to be happy, and if possible, give us a grandchild."

Hieu has always been the pride of his family. He excelled academically and secured a job at Bank of America right after graduating from university. But this same sense of pride also forced him to hide a part of himself. Six years ago he met Romario Christopher Faria, a South African man, and decided to embrace their love.

Coming out turned out to be much easier than Hieu had feared. "After coming out to my parents, I began discussing having a child with Romario," the 36-year-old Hieu, who manages a resort and bar in Phu Quoc, says. "Part of it was my own desire, and part of it was to fulfill my parents’ wishes."

Baby Noah with his two fathers at their home. Photo provided by Hieu

To have a child, Hieu and Romario had to resort to surrogacy.

While Vietnamese law permits surrogacy for humanitarian reasons, it applies only to couples unable to conceive naturally. Lesbian women can legally become mothers through sperm donation, but for gay men there are virtually no options.

Hieu initially explored surrogacy options in Thailand, where the price was similar to what women pay in Vietnam. But after hearing several troubling stories he decided not to take the risk. A friend then told him about legal surrogacy for gay men in the U.S., where his friend had had three children through the process.

"The cost was more than four times higher, but the child would indisputably be ours," he says.

The surrogacy process involved four lawyers, with contracts for embryo creation and surrogacy spanning nearly 100 pages each. The real challenges began as the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted the world. Sending DNA samples across borders became a logistical nightmare. For sperm retrieval, he had to fly to the UK to send the sample to the U.S. since flights were grounded.

The procedure itself took just one morning, but Hieu was stranded in the UK for three months, unable to return to Vietnam due to travel restrictions. All his savings went toward paying for the hotel and flight back to Vietnam.

Hieu and his partner in the waiting room for the surrogate giving birth on Jan. 26, 2024, in Colorado. Photo courtesy of Hieu

By the end of 2021 Hieu and Romario started their search for an egg donor, a process Romario likened to "a beauty pageant." They sifted through thousands of profiles of donors from various ethnic backgrounds. Their first choice was disqualified due to poor chromosomes, wasting three months of effort.

Their second choice fell through after four more months when the donor backed out at the last minute. Finally they found a donor who was well educated, attractive and had no genetic defects. "After all the waiting, finding the right donor felt like a stroke of luck," Hieu says.

With the egg secured, they had to find a surrogate. At this time, the U.S. introduced a new requirement for surrogates to be vaccinated against Covid-19, reducing the pool of eligible candidates by 30%.

They waited 13 months before being matched with a 36-year-old surrogate in Colorado Springs, Colorado. In May 2023 the hospital implanted the healthiest of the eight embryos it had stored.

Even from halfway around the world, Hieu was anxious. His worries dissolved one summer night in June when he heard the first recording of the baby's heartbeat and received the 4D ultrasound images of the fetus.

"I cried with joy," he recalls.

Hieu's parents holding their grandson Noah in Colorado Springs, Colorado, U.S., in Feb. 2024. Photo courtesy of Hieu

As time passed his excitement grew with each ultrasound, each heartbeat. Occasionally, when he missed the baby too much, he would ask the surrogate to go for an extra ultrasound before the scheduled appointments.

Finally, in January 2024, the moment they had been waiting for arrived. Hieu and his family flew to Colorado Springs, landing in the middle of a snowstorm with temperatures plunging to minus 26 degrees Celsius.

Early one morning 10 days later the surrogate mother called to say her waters had broken. His family rushed her to the hospital. Throughout the wait he repeatedly checked his pocket to make sure the court order was still there, confirming that the baby would be legally his upon birth.

At 4 p.m. on Jan. 26 the doctor announced, "It’s time." The two fathers stood nervously by as the American woman went through labor. On the eighth push, their baby’s cry broke the tension in the room. Romario took the newborn from the doctor’s hands and held it against his skin.

The first day was a blur for Hieu and Romario, who admitted they had no idea how to change a nappy. Whenever they encountered a problem, they either called his family or searched on Google. "Now I can change a nappy anywhere - whether on the floor, holding him in one arm, or even with one hand," he jokes.

It took six weeks for the family to obtain a visa and Vietnamese citizenship for baby Noah before they could return home. While the expenses were high during their stay in the U.S., Noah thrived as the surrogate mother was able to breastfeed him. He slept and ate peacefully during three long flights home.

When they finally returned to Vietnam, relatives from the family were eager to meet baby Noah. His 91-year-old great-grandmother even made a 500-kilometer train journey from her hometown to Hanoi to see him.

Ngoc says Noah was so fair-skinned that "no matter how I looked at him, I could not see any resemblance to my son." She secretly took his fingernail for a DNA test. "The results confirmed he is my grandson, but I got a scolding from my son for it," she recounts.

After over a month of watching Hieu and Romario care for their son, Hieu’s parents felt reassured and gave their blessing for the couple to take Noah to Hieu’s home in Phu Quoc island. Whenever possible, they brought Noah back to visit his grandparents.

During these visits Hieu’s parents proudly showed off their grandson to friends and neighbors. Watching them, Hieu realized that his family’s unique dynamic had begun to be accepted by those around them.

"I am grateful for the advances in medical science that have made it possible for people in the LGBT community like me to realize our dream of becoming parents."

* Names of some characters have been changed.