The Night I Couldn’t Sleep
It was 3 AM in our Tokyo apartment, and I was staring at the ceiling. Again. My wife, Aiko, was sleeping peacefully beside me, but my mind was racing with the same question that had haunted us for months: “What if something goes wrong?”
We were about to sign the gestational carrier agreement with Sarah, the amazing woman in Houston who had agreed to carry our baby. We loved Sarah. We trusted Sarah. But we weren’t just trusting Sarah—we were trusting a legal system in a country we didn’t grow up in, in a state we’d only visited twice.
That night, I did what any anxious lawyer would do (yes, I’m a corporate attorney in Tokyo—the irony isn’t lost on me). I got up, made tea, and started researching Texas surrogacy law. Again.
What I found changed everything. Not just eased my anxiety—actually made me excited about the legal framework. Today, I want to share how Houston’s laws didn’t just permit our family; they protected it. Deeply, intelligently, beautifully.
First, the Fear: Japan vs. Texas
To understand why the legal framework mattered so much, you need to understand where we were coming from.
In Japan, where we live:
- Commercial surrogacy is not legally recognized
- There’s no clear path to establish parental rights
- The birth mother is always considered the legal mother
- Same-sex marriage isn’t nationally recognized (though changing slowly)
- We would have had zero legal protection
The nightmare scenario that kept me up at night:
What if we did everything right medically, spent our life savings, flew back and forth to Houston for months, and then couldn’t bring our baby home to Japan? What if, legally, the baby wasn’t ours?
Our fertility doctor in Tokyo had been brutally honest: “If you do this in the U.S., you need to pick the right state. The difference between the right state and the wrong state isn’t just paperwork—it’s whether you’ll be parents or legal strangers to your child.”
Why Texas? The Research Begins
We started with the big picture. Which states had the best laws for international intended parents?
Our initial legal assessment:
| State | Pre-Birth Orders | International Cases | Same-Sex Protections | Our Risk Score |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| California | Yes, routine | Common | Excellent | Low |
| Texas | Yes, routine | Common | Good in practice | Low-Medium |
| New York | Yes, but newer | Less common | Excellent | Medium |
| Florida | Varies by county | Some | Varies | High |
| Michigan | Not available | Rare | Poor | Very High |
The Texas advantage started emerging:
- Established case law: Texas courts have been handling surrogacy cases for over 20 years
- Clear statutes: The Texas Family Code specifically addresses gestational agreements
- Predictability: The process is standardized, not a “judge-by-judge” lottery
- Efficiency: Courts are familiar with the process and move quickly
But I’m a lawyer. I needed to read the actual law. So I did.
The Texas Family Code: Chapter 160
This is where the magic happens. Texas Family Code, Chapter 160 specifically addresses “Gestational Agreements.”
Key provisions that made me exhale:
§160.754: Requirements of Gestational Agreement
The agreement must be in writing and signed by the intended parents and the gestational mother (and her husband, if married). It must include statements that:
- The parties agree the intended parents will be the child’s only parents
- The gestational mother agrees to relinquish all parental rights
- The intended parents agree to accept parental rights
§160.756: Gestational Agreement: Parentage
This is the golden sentence: “The court shall validate a gestational agreement as provided by this subchapter if the court finds that…”
Then it lists the requirements, which our situation met:
- The gestational mother is married and her husband joins in the agreement ✅
- The intended parents are married ✅
- All parties are adults ✅
- The intended parents are unable to carry a pregnancy to term ✅
- The agreement doesn’t compensate the gestational mother for giving up parental rights (important distinction—compensation is for her services, not for the child) ✅
- Medical evidence shows the embryo isn’t genetically related to the gestational mother ✅
§160.757: Effect of Validated Gestational Agreement
This was the tearjerker: “After a gestational agreement is validated, the intended parents are the parents of a child born under the agreement…”
There it was. In black and white. Not a loophole. Not a workaround. A clear, deliberate legal framework designed specifically for families like ours.
Finding the Right Lawyer: Not All Texas Lawyers Are Equal
But here’s the thing about laws: they’re only as good as the lawyers who implement them. We needed someone who didn’t just know Texas law, but knew Harris County (Houston) courts.
Our criteria for a lawyer:
- Minimum 50 gestational surrogacy cases handled
- Experience with international intended parents
- Experience with same-sex couples
- Based in Houston (not “we have an office there” but actually practices there)
- Someone who explained things in plain English, not legalese
We interviewed three firms:
Firm 1: The “Surrogacy Factory”
- Handled 300+ cases annually
- Felt like an assembly line
- Quote: “We’ll get you the pre-birth order. Standard process.”
- Fee: $12,000
- Our take: Competent but impersonal. Felt like we’d be a case number.
Firm 2: The “Boutique” Practice
- Handled 20-30 cases annually
- Partner spent 90 minutes with us on Zoom
- Asked about our relationship, our values, our fears
- Quote: “My job isn’t just to get the order. It’s to make sure you feel secure every step of the way.”
- Fee: $15,000
- Our take: We loved her. But was the extra $3,000 worth it?
Firm 3: The “Middle Ground”
- Handled 100+ cases annually
- Had a Japanese-speaking paralegal (impressive!)
- Clear process with regular updates
- Quote: “I’ll be honest—your case is straightforward by Texas standards. The system is designed for this.”
- Fee: $10,500
- Our take: Professional, experienced, confident without being cocky
We chose Firm 3, but asked if we could have monthly check-ins like Firm 2 offered. They agreed. Total: $11,000. Worth every yen.
The Gestational Agreement: 75 Pages of Protection
When our lawyer, Susan, sent the draft gestational agreement, I braced myself. 75 pages. In legalese. I prepared for a weekend of painful review.
But then something surprising happened: I understood it. And not just because I’m a lawyer. Because it was logical. Protective. Fair.
The structure that made sense:
Part 1: The Relationship
- Who we are
- Who Sarah is
- Our mutual intentions
- The baby’s status (always, always referred to as “the Child of the Intended Parents”)
Part 2: The Medical Process
- Embryo transfer details
- Medical decision-making authority
- What happens in various medical scenarios
- Insurance coverage
Part 3: The Practicalities
- Compensation schedule (not payment for a baby—payment for services)
- Expense reimbursement
- Life and disability insurance for Sarah
- Communication protocols
Part 4: The Legal Outcomes
- Parental rights establishment
- Birth certificate issuance
- What happens if… (all the scary scenarios)
What surprised me: The agreement wasn’t adversarial. It wasn’t “us vs. Sarah.” It was “all of us, together, planning for this child’s arrival.” The tone was collaborative, not confrontational.
The most reassuring clause was about disputes. It said any disagreement would first go to mediation with a surrogacy-specialized mediator. Only as a last resort to court. This told me: the system assumes good faith. It assumes we all want what’s best for the baby.
The Pre-Birth Order: Magic Paper
Here’s where Texas law shines: the Pre-Birth Order (PBO).
What it is: A court order issued BEFORE the baby is born declaring that we are the legal parents.
Why it’s revolutionary:
- In some states, you have to wait until after birth, then do an adoption or parentage order
- In Texas, we were our child’s legal parents from the moment that order was signed
- The hospital would issue a birth certificate with our names from Day 1
- No gap. No uncertainty.
Our timeline:
Week 20 of pregnancy (when the anatomy scan showed a healthy baby):
- Susan filed the petition for pre-birth order
- Included: Our gestational agreement, marriage certificates, medical records, Sarah’s affidavit
Week 22:
- Court hearing scheduled
- We participated via Zoom from Tokyo (3 AM our time, totally worth it)
- Judge reviewed the documents
- Asked Sarah: “Do you understand that by signing this agreement, you’re agreeing that [our names] will be the only legal parents of this child?”
- Sarah: “Yes, Your Honor. That’s what we all want.”
- Judge: “Order granted.”
Week 23:
- Official order arrived
- We sent copies to: the hospital, our OB, the pediatrician, the passport agency
- Every system now knew: we were the parents
The emotional impact: I can’t overstate this. From Week 23 onward, we were parents. Legally. On paper. In the eyes of the state of Texas. Our baby wasn’t even born yet, but he had parents. We had a son.
The Hospital Experience: When Theory Meets Reality
Fast forward to delivery day. Sarah went into labor. We flew to Houston. Arrived at Texas Children’s Hospital.
The registration process:
Nurse: “Name?”
Us: “[Our last name]. We’re the intended parents.”
Nurse types, looks at screen. “Ah, yes. I see the pre-birth order in your file. The baby will be registered under your names at birth.”
That was it. No drama. No confusion. The system worked exactly as designed.
After delivery:
The birth certificate worksheet came. Two lines:
- Parent 1: My name
- Parent 2: Aiko’s name
- Relationship to child: Mother
- Checkboxes for “biological mother”? None. Just “mother.”
The social worker visit (standard for all births):
Social worker: “I see you have a gestational carrier arrangement. Everything in order?”
Us: “Yes, we have the pre-birth order.”
Social worker: “Great. Do you have any concerns about taking the baby home?”
Us: “No.”
Social worker: “Wonderful. Congratulations.”
The takeaway: The hospital staff weren’t experts in surrogacy law. They didn’t need to be. The system was designed so they just had to follow the paperwork. And the paperwork was clear.
The Passport and Citizenship Maze
Here’s where being international added complexity. But again, Texas law made the U.S. part straightforward.
Step 1: U.S. Birth Certificate
- Issued by Texas Bureau of Vital Statistics
- Parents: Us
- Done
Step 2: U.S. Passport
- Required: Birth certificate + our IDs + application
- Process: 2 weeks expedited
- Result: Baby has U.S. passport listing us as parents
Step 3: Japanese Citizenship
- This was trickier (Japan doesn’t automatically recognize foreign surrogacy births)
- But we had: U.S. birth certificate with us as parents, U.S. passport, gestational agreement, pre-birth order
- Japanese Consulate in Houston processed as “acknowledgment of parentage”
- Result: Baby also has Japanese citizenship through me (I’m Japanese, Aiko is American)
The Texas documents were the foundation that made the Japanese process possible. Without that clear, court-ordered establishment of parentage, Japan would have been a nightmare.
The “What Ifs” That Didn’t Happen (But Could Have)
One reason I love Texas law: it plans for problems. Our gestational agreement covered scenarios we never had to face, but knowing they were covered let us sleep at night.
Scenario 1: Medical decisions during delivery
- What if Sarah was unconscious and a decision needed to be made?
- Agreement: We had medical power of attorney
- Reality: Never needed it
Scenario 2: Relationship breakdown
- What if we and Sarah had a falling out during pregnancy?
- Agreement: Mediation first, specific process outlined
- Reality: We became closer
Scenario 3: Financial issues
- What if we lost our jobs and couldn’t pay?
- Agreement: Life insurance policy on me that would cover remaining compensation
- Reality: Never needed
Scenario 4: Baby with medical needs
- What if baby needed NICU care?
- Agreement: Our insurance covered baby from birth
- Texas law: Baby is our child, so our insurance applies
- Reality: Healthy baby, but nice to know
The Surprising Benefit: It Protected Sarah Too
Early on, I was focused on how the law protected us. But as I learned more, I saw how thoughtfully it protected everyone.
How Texas law protects gestational carriers:
1. Right to her own medical care
She chose her OB. She made day-to-day pregnancy decisions. The agreement specified we would pay for her medical care, but not control it.
2. Right to compensation even if pregnancy doesn’t occur
If the embryo transfer failed, she still got paid for her time and effort. The law distinguishes between compensation for services (legal) and payment for a child (illegal).
3. Clear boundaries
The law made it crystal clear: she was not the mother. This actually protected her from any claim of parental responsibility or child support.
4. Psychological support
The law requires mental health evaluation and ongoing support availability. Not just for us—for her.
Sarah told us later: “I looked at other states. Some felt… exploitative. Texas felt fair. I’m giving a lot, but I’m protected. You’re getting a lot, but you’re protected. The baby is protected. It’s balanced.”
The Japanese Homecoming: When Two Legal Systems Meet
Bringing our son back to Japan was the final test of the Texas legal framework.
At Japanese immigration:
Officer looks at U.S. passport (us as parents), Japanese travel document, birth certificate.
Officer: “Surrogacy birth?”
Me: “Yes. In Houston.”
Officer nods, stamps. “Congratulations.”
Registering in Japan:
Local ward office. More paperwork. But with the Texas pre-birth order (translated and notarized), the U.S. birth certificate, and our marriage certificate, it was… bureaucratic, but not controversial.
The key: Texas didn’t just give us a piece of paper. It gave us a legally sound, internationally recognizable establishment of parentage. Countries that are skeptical of surrogacy still respect court orders. And Texas court orders are particularly well-regarded because the process is so rigorous.
What I Wish I’d Known Sooner
Looking back, here’s what would have saved me months of anxiety:
1. Texas law is designed for this
It’s not a loophole. It’s not an accident. The Texas legislature deliberately created a framework for gestational surrogacy. They’ve been refining it for 20 years.
2. Harris County courts are efficient
Because they do this all the time. Our judge had handled over 100 surrogacy cases. She knew what she was looking at. The hearing was 15 minutes because everything was in order.
3. The system assumes good people
The law isn’t written for worst-case scenarios. It’s written for typical cases with typical people acting in good faith. The protections are there if needed, but the default is cooperation.
4. It’s a partnership, not a purchase
The legal framework reinforces this: you’re not buying a baby. You’re entering a partnership to have a baby. The language, the structure, the intent—all collaborative.
For Other International Parents Considering Houston
If you’re where we were—researching late at night, overwhelmed by legal complexity—here’s my advice:
1. Read the actual law
Texas Family Code Chapter 160. It’s online. It’s in plain English (as laws go). Read it. You’ll sleep better.
2. Hire a Houston lawyer
Not a “we practice in Texas” lawyer. A Houston lawyer. Harris County is its own ecosystem.
3. Trust the process but verify
Ask your lawyer: “How many pre-birth orders have you gotten in Harris County?” The answer should be “dozens” or “hundreds.”
4. The gestational agreement is your roadmap
Don’t skim it. Read it. Understand it. It’s not a scary document—it’s a plan. A really good, thoughtful plan.
5. Texas is used to international parents
We were nervous being from Japan. But Houston sees international surrogacy cases all the time. The hospitals, the courts, the agencies—they know the drill.
The Legacy of Good Law
Our son is nine months old now. He’s sleeping in the next room as I write this. In Tokyo. In the home we’ve created as a family.
Sometimes I look at his documents—the Texas birth certificate, the U.S. passport, the Japanese family registry—and I’m struck by the miracle of it all. Not just the medical miracle. The legal miracle.
A state we’d never lived in wrote laws that protected our family. A judge we’d never met signed an order that made us parents. A system designed by strangers welcomed our son into the world and into our arms.
Houston’s laws did more than permit our family. They celebrated it. They protected it. They gave us the foundation to build everything that came after.
The night I couldn’t sleep seems a lifetime ago. Now, when I check on our son at 3 AM, it’s not from anxiety. It’s from wonder. Wonder at this little person. Wonder at the journey that brought him to us. And wonder at the thoughtful, careful, compassionate legal framework in Houston, Texas, that made it all possible.
Postscript: Last month, we sent Sarah a framed copy of the pre-birth order. She texted: “I look at this and know we did it right. Every ‘whereas’ and ‘therefore’ protecting everyone. Especially him.”
She’s right. Especially him.
