Thank God.
Talia looked up immediately, concern softening her expression. “Is everything okay?”
I retook my seat. “Yeah… I think it was that smoothie I drank earlier.”
I chuckled lightly while discreetly pulling the folders closer to me again.
“I’m a little lactose intolerant. I keep playing with dairy like my stomach doesn’t humble me every single time. But I’ll be fine. Thanks for asking.”
I let out a small breath.
“Now… where were we?”
My eyes skimmed over the interview questions, mentally retracing where the conversation had left off before the interruption. After a brief moment, I clicked my pen once and looked back up at Talia with regained composure.
“Do you drink alcohol, smoke, or use recreational drugs?” I questioned, keeping my tone neutral while I reviewed her paperwork.
“Oh no!” she responded promptly.
I eyed her dubiously. “Never? Not even occasionally?”
“Okay, socially?Sure. A girls’ night, birthdays, New Year’s Eve… Cinco de Mayo if the margaritas look convincing enough.” She waved a hand lightly. “But drugs? Absolutely not. I can barely survive cold medicine.”
I arched a brow, silently encouraging her to continue.
“I took NyQuil once, and let’s just say… it had me texting people I probably shouldn’t have been in contact with.”
“Noted,” I said dryly, making another mark in the file. “Now, let’s shift gears. Are you currently employed?”
Talia hesitated, her eyes drifting as she considered her words. “Not officially,” she finally responded, a note of embarrassment creeping into her tone.
“What does that mean exactly?” I asked, curious about her circumstances.
“It means that I’m in a sort of ‘figuring it out’ phase of my life,” she admitted, her voice tinged with vulnerability.
I leaned back slightly, processing her words. “And you believe that surrogacy could provide the stability you’re seeking?”
“I truly think it would help me breathe again,” she answered, her voice steadier now, revealing her honesty. “I’m so tired of living month to month. It feels like I’m always just one emergency away from drowning.”
Her candidness struck a chord with me.
That answer sounded more genuine than rehearsed, which immediately made me pay closer attention.
I lightly tapped my pen against the folder. “How do you anticipate your lifestyle would change during a pregnancy?”
“I’m sure it would change completely. I would take it seriously, though. I’d focus on eating right, spending more time at home, and rest when I need to. I know it wouldn’t just be about me anymore. I know that someone would be trusting me with something incredibly important.”
That answer sat in the room a little longer than the others.
“Would you be comfortable with routine medical monitoring, scheduled evaluations, dietary restrictions, as well as signing a confidentiality agreement?” I inquired, wanting to ensure she understood the seriousness of the commitment.
“Absolutely. Whatever’s required.”
I shifted topics, wanting to delve deeper into her mental health. “Do you have any history of mental illness or medication use?”
Talia hesitated, letting out a short laugh that didn’t quite fit the moment. “Ha! I mean, who doesn’t feel like they’re losing it sometimes, right? Life will literally test you!”
I offered a tight smile that made it clear I wasn’t amused. “Is that the answer you’d like documented?”
