Heart & Soul

On a warm evening in February 2014, Miranda Hill received the text message she had been longing for. Her best friend’s name flashed up on her phone screen – My Megs – and as Miranda read she caught her breath. “I think something’s happening. I think tonight might be the night,” the text said.

Miranda’s heart, weak though it was, began to race. Years earlier she had learned she had the same cardiovascular condition that had claimed her father’s life, and that even though medical science had advanced enough to keep her alive, her body would not be able to withstand pregnancy. It had been a cruel blow but her best friend Megan had offered to be a surrogate. Now, this text message signalled that years of testing, waiting, fear and faith were coming to their conclusion.

“What can I do?” Miranda wanted to know. Megan, as always, was unruffled. “Have a shower, wash your hair and decide what you’re wearing to the birth,” she said. Miranda could hardly contain herself.

“It was terrifying watching my best friend go through that for me,” Miranda says. “I remember thinking, if anything goes wrong, please don’t let us lose Megs.” Being a mother was something Miranda had looked forward to her whole life, but her excitement was tempered by a creeping sense of dread. In her family, birth and death had always existed in uncomfortable proximity. Just three days after Miranda was born, in September 1982, her father, Tony, had failed to show up for his scheduled visit to the birthing suite. As Miranda’s mother, Rhonda, waited, cradling her newborn, she sensed something was wrong. Tony had been so excited to become a father,