From THIS article from The New York Times Magazine

AS THE MONTHS PASSED, something curious happened: The bigger Cathy was, the more I realized that I was glad — practically euphoric — I was not pregnant. I was in a daze of anticipation, but I was also secretly, curiously, perpetually relieved, unburdened from the sheer physicality of pregnancy. If I could have carried a child to term, I would have. But I carried my 10-pound dog in a BabyBjörn-like harness on hikes, and after an hour my back ached.

Cathy was getting bigger, and the constraints on her grew. I, on the other hand, was happy to exploit my last few months of nonmotherhood by white-water rafting down Level 10 rapids on the Colorado River, racing down a mountain at 60 miles per hour at ski-racing camp, drinking bourbon and going to the Super Bowl.

I had several friends around my age — 37 and up — who were pregnant with their first children at this time, and I was amazed at how their feet swelled like loaves of bread. They were haggard. They seemed sallow and tired, and they let their hair go gray...


If you enjoy getting outraged by mommy-war issues, you should read this.
I am all for surrogacy, but they couldn't have picked a less sympathetic person to describe her experience. Right cause, wrong advocate.

Let me know what you thought about the article, if you get a chance to read it.

The Times photographer and editor must hate this woman. And I think the Times also hates us a bit, trying to make a stink about this issue, when it's not really a new one at all. A lot of vitriol is already spewing in the comments section of the NYT, but little of it is about surrogacy. That's the red herring. The cover story should have been called, "Why We Hate Smug Yoga-Bodied Elite Women Like This," because that seems to be the issue presented in this article.