Chapter 18

Hospital costs had not featured prominently in my thinking at the outset. The baby—as I had been thinking in terms of just one—would be born in the UK. Part of the contract with Tina involved covering her uninsured, ‘deductible’ and ‘co-pay’ medical costs - whatever all that meant. As soon as it became clear that the babies would not be born in the UK, I looked at the insurance cover I had taken out, just in case, with more than a little interest. It was impenetrable. US insurance-speak is incomprehensible to the untutored. Anyway, I knew I was covered.

I assumed that Tina was covered for her own medical expenses. I had heard of how astronomical US hospital expenses were and thought all Americans had insurance cover. I was sure we had talked about this and that she had told me she had it. I could hardly ask Tina about this now as she might feel under pressure.

As soon as she was admitted to hospital, they became interested in Tina’s arrangements. Understandably, as she was busy contracting, she did not want to go into the details. I asked Vivian, out of curiosity, what the cost for the first week was. ‘20,000’ was the brief e-mailed answer. I assumed dollars and held my breath. Paula, my US lawyer, confirmed that Tina’s insurers had twice refused to pay on the grounds that the pregnancy was via surrogacy. She thought they might reconsider given the impetus of possible legal action. As surrogacy had not been specifically excluded from Tina’s policy, I thought it was reasonable to assume that it was included, or at least that it was worth a legal challenge.

In the event, the hospital fees were proving to be the least of my problems. Left with debts by her now former husband, Tina had decided to time the bankruptcy she had been planning for just after the time she delivered. If the insurers would not pay up, she would simply include the bills from the hospital with all the other bills. Her impending bankruptcy was something I had not been made aware of.

Vivian thought Tina’s medical costs would top $100,000 by the time she was out. I had to resist the thought that the sooner she gave birth, the better. At least the boys were covered by insurance.

Paula told me Tina was being a ‘real trooper’ and asked if I would cover the cost of looking after Tina’s sons while she was in hospital. In fact, Tina and I had already spoken about her sons and I had agreed that, of course I was willing to pay for them to be looked after.

The moment the babies were born I set about getting them covered under my US insurance policy. I had become so used to doing everything by e-mail that I sent one to the insurers. The response was that I should tell my employer. I had a quiet word with myself and sent back the message that I was contacting them in my capacity as my employer.

Clearly this was something my correspondent had not been programmed to comprehend. I heard no more. Although Vivian, who was rapidly becoming my fount of all wisdom, assured me that American businesses only responded if there was a problem, I was not so sanguine.

My fears proved to be grounded. Tina told me the insurers had told the hospital that they had not got the babies on their books. As it was now 20 days after the delivery, I could see myself having to foot the bill for this period before the babies were covered. My fingers danced over the keyboard in faxing the insurers and sending copies of my e-mails to them. I also phoned their help number. I was told to contact the broker who had arranged cover in the first place. My call to him was met by an answering machine. So as not to lose more time, I faxed to tell them this and ask what more I could do to ensure cover. Their faxed response was reassuring. The babies were covered from ‘2.8’. I just hoped this was their birthday on 8 February and not 2 August.

The broker sent me an e-form to complete and fax back. I still did not understand the insurance details, though. With hundreds of thousands of dollars at stake, I felt I should. Despite being ostensibly written in English, a letter from the hospital about insurance was incomprehensible. My broker nonetheless gave me some hope that costs would be within bounds. He ended, ‘Good luck!’ I felt I needed it.

Although I had managed to convince myself for the first month that the babies were, in a way, still to be born even though they were outside the womb, by the fifth week this rationale was less credible. I longing to see them, touch them, hold them.

I seriously considered flying out to take them back one at a time. The logistics were insurmountable. For every one I brought back, there was one I had to leave behind to get another. The only practical solution was to wait until Lars was released, had been photographed and had his passport. I would have to continue to be pragmatic and push my parental urges to one side.

My daily calls to the hospital continued until the first week in March. Ian and Piers were likely to be discharged soon as they were feeding themselves. Lars was more laid back and let the tube do some of the work. The specialist was cagey about estimating when they would be ready for travelling. But I needed a date, a goal, and knew it would be me who fixed it.

I had to balance between rushing to see them and hold them and letting the hospital have time enough to consider them fit to travel. A quick visit to the internet showed that flights to San Diego were filling three weeks beforehand. Arbitrarily, I decided to travel on my birthday. This would be the day that I would see my children and it would become a sort of alternative birthday for all of us. I allowed a few days after that in case the last one had not been discharged and booked the return flight for the babies, Tina, Tina’s two sons, Vivian and me, for 27 March. I had checked with BA earlier about how they deal with very young babies. Each baby had to be attached to an adult for take-off and landing. Three babies: three adults.

Tina thought it would be a ‘closure’ for her sons to come over and see the babies in their new home. They had never flown or been out of the country. As a newcomer to jet-setting, she was ill-at-ease at the thought of travelling without Vivian, who was to be the ‘logical’ third adult. Vivian was willing to come and her husband was happy to take over the business for the duration. Eight tickets. I confirmed the bookings. The date was now fixed. 23 March. My fingers would remain crossed.

The problems continued. The very next day, the specialist told me Piers would not be released. He had apnea. This meant that his heart rate dropped when he was feeding and, more significantly, when he was sleeping.

His monitoring needed to be continued. Both he and Lars had low blood pressure. The doctor opined that a blood transfusion might be needed. He was cautious and unhurried. The flight dates did not seem like such a good idea now. Although he told me that all this was to be expected with premature babies, I had little else to do but fret.

The District Nurse in Newbury confirmed that babies generally had very low blood pressure and that apnea mattresses were available. Was it that the doctor was concerned about air pressure in flight? Whether it was because of any real danger or just the fear of litigation in case the side of caution was not erred upon, I could only speculate. Two days later Piers was out. The hospital was running out of bed space. The caution had disappeared. Patients had to be processed.

After another day, Lars was out, too. They were on monitors and Tina knew what she was doing, but these little boys would have to take their chance away from the hospital’s cocoon. This was a business very much like any other.