Everything the Surrogacy Industry Doesn't Want You to Know About Going Independent

By Pineapple Family, Co-founders ·

Everything the Surrogacy Industry Doesn't Want You to Know About Going Independent

You're going to hear a lot of scary things about independent surrogacy.

You'll hear that it's dangerous. That you need professional screening. That you'll be alone when things go wrong. That the process is too complex for regular people. That going without an agency is reckless, irresponsible, maybe even harmful to your future child.

You'll hear all of this from people who charge $30,000–$60,000+ for their services.

We want to walk through every one of these claims — not to sell you on our platform, but because someone needs to say what the fertility industry won't: most of what agencies tell you about independent surrogacy is designed to keep you paying their fees, not to keep you safe.

Who we are (read this first)

Pineapple Family is a family-building platform that supports independent surrogacy and egg donation journeys. We charge a fraction of what agencies charge, and we believe their model is overpriced and outdated. You should know that before you read another word.

Our co-founders Joshua and Daniel are two gay dads who have done this personally. They paid $45,000 for an agency match that failed catastrophically. The agency matched them with a carrier who wasn't prepared, the journey collapsed, and they lost two embryos. The agency blamed their clinic and fought their refund. They then completed two successful independent surrogacy journeys that resulted in their two kids. Our third co-founder, Sam, was the gestational carrier for both of those independent journeys. Between us, we have lived this process from both sides, as intended parents and as a gestational carrier.

So yes, we have a point of view. We think you deserve to know exactly what that point of view is and where it comes from. Now let's talk about what's true and what isn't.

Before we start, something important: this article is about the agency model — not about every person who works at an agency. Some agencies do great work. Some were founded by former gestational carriers or intended parents who genuinely care about the families they serve. There are agency employees who go above and beyond for their clients every single day, and we respect that.

But caring people operating inside a structurally broken model still produce structurally broken outcomes. The high fees, the information gatekeeping, the inconsistent screening standards, the lack of transparency — those aren't the result of bad individuals. They're features of a business model that profits from being the middleman between families and the professionals who actually do the work. Our critique is about architecture, not character. And we believe families deserve to understand that architecture before they decide who to trust with $30,000–$60,000+ and the most important decision of their lives.

"Without an agency, nobody screens your surrogate."

This is the big one. Agencies lead with it because it sounds terrifying. The idea that you'd be matched with an unscreened, unvetted stranger carrying your baby? Of course that's scary. It's supposed to be.

Here's what they're not telling you: agencies don't do the clinical screening. Your fertility clinic does.

The American Society for Reproductive Medicine publishes comprehensive clinical guidelines for the screening of gestational carriers. The 2022 committee opinion, "Recommendations for practices using gestational carriers," outlines detailed requirements for medical evaluation, infectious disease testing, psychological assessment, and obstetric history review (ASRM, Fertil Steril 2022;118:65–74). These standards apply to every gestational carrier arrangement — agency, independent, or otherwise.

Your fertility clinic conducts the medical screening. They evaluate obstetric history, run infectious disease panels per FDA and ASRM requirements, assess overall health, and decide whether the carrier is a candidate for embryo transfer.

A licensed psychologist — typically one specializing in third-party reproduction — conducts the psychological evaluation. Not an agency employee with a questionnaire. A licensed professional.

A reproductive attorney drafts the legal contracts. ASRM's 2023 Ethics Committee opinion states that carriers "must have an independent legal counsel whose duty of care is to the GC alone" (ASRM Ethics Committee, Fertil Steril 2023;119:583–8).

So what does the agency actually do? In many cases, agencies conduct an initial pre-screening — a first pass at qualifications before referring the carrier to the clinic and psychologist who do the real work. Some agencies also select which psychologist the carrier sees and refer both parties to attorneys the agency works with regularly.

That's the service. It's a referral and a pre-filter. The licensed professionals do the screening. Whether you found your carrier through an agency database, a community connection, or a technology platform, those professionals do the same clinical evaluation against the same ASRM standards.

The screening doesn't change. The price changes by about $30,000–$60,000+.

And here's something we don't think gets said enough: no one will vet your carrier more closely than you will.

When an agency screens candidates, they're processing a pipeline. They're filling matches. They're running a business that depends on volume, and every month a carrier sits unmatched is a month without revenue. We're not saying agencies are careless — many aren't. But the incentive structure is real: the agency needs matches to happen. You need the right match to happen. Those aren't always the same thing.

When you're the one doing the research — reading the profile, asking the questions, evaluating the answers, consulting your own doctor, talking to your own psychologist — you bring something no agency case manager ever will: the intensity of someone whose entire future depends on getting this right. You're not managing 30 matches. You're managing one. Yours. No one working a caseload for a salary is going to scrutinize a candidate the way someone spending their life savings and their last embryos will. That's not a criticism. It's just human nature.

This reality became painfully clear in Joshua and Daniel's own experience. After their agency match failed, the agency presented rematch candidates. While grieving, while emotionally devastated, they caught disqualifying issues with candidate after candidate that the agency hadn't flagged. Medical criteria that didn't meet their own clinic's standards. Patterns of prior failed journeys across multiple candidates. Stability and support system concerns that should have been caught in any competent screening process. Every red flag was one the agency either missed, ignored, or didn't consider worth mentioning.

They were better screeners than the agency. At their lowest point. Because it was their family on the line — not their quarterly numbers.

We think that applies to most intended parents. You are more motivated, more careful, and more invested than any intermediary will ever be. The agency model tells you that's not enough — that you need a professional gatekeeper between you and this decision. We think the opposite is true. We think the professional gatekeeper is the one with the least skin in the game.

There's another dimension to this that most intended parents never see: agency screening criteria aren't standardized, and they often don't align with the actual clinical guidelines.

ASRM publishes clear recommendations — age ranges, obstetric history requirements, psychological evaluation protocols, medical disqualifiers. These are the clinical standards, developed by fertility medicine specialists over decades of research and practice.

But many agencies layer their own criteria on top. And those criteria vary widely from one agency to the next. One agency's disqualifying factor is another agency's non-issue. The same carrier can be rejected by Agency A and welcomed by Agency B — not because of anything clinical, but because the two agencies have different internal policies.

The intended parent rarely sees this. They're told a carrier "didn't pass screening" and they assume that means she failed a clinical evaluation. In many cases, it means she didn't meet that particular agency's business criteria — criteria that may be more restrictive than ASRM guidelines, less restrictive, or simply different.

In an independent journey, the clinical standards are visible. You know what ASRM recommends. Your fertility clinic applies those standards directly. And when something falls into a gray area — where reasonable people might make different decisions based on individual circumstances — you and your carrier make that call together, with full information, guided by your own medical and legal professionals. Not by an agency's undisclosed internal policy.

We believe the people building a family together should be the ones making informed decisions about what matters to them — not an intermediary applying proprietary criteria that may or may not reflect the actual science. That's not a safety argument. That's a transparency argument. And in our view, transparency is safety.

"You'll have no legal protection."

This one is backwards.

Legal protection in surrogacy comes from one place: the gestational carrier agreement drafted by reproductive attorneys. That contract exists in every surrogacy arrangement — agency or independent. It governs compensation, medical decision-making, parental rights, insurance, and contingencies. It's the legal backbone of the entire journey.

In an independent journey, both parties hire their own reproductive attorneys from the open market. Each attorney's sole obligation is to their client. No intermediary selected them, no referral relationship influences them, and no agency's business relationship is a factor in the advice they give.

In many agency-managed journeys, the agency refers both parties to attorneys the agency works with regularly — sometimes at flat rates the agency has negotiated. These are typically competent professionals. But the referral relationship exists. The attorney's ongoing business relationship with the agency is real. And when both sides' lawyers have the same referral source, it's worth asking what independent counsel actually means in that arrangement.

We believe choosing your own attorney provides stronger protection than accepting an agency referral. That's our opinion, and reasonable people can disagree. But the claim that independent journeys lack legal protection is flatly wrong — unless you think the only valid contract is one an agency arranged.

"It's too complicated for you to manage."

Let's talk about what "managing a surrogacy journey" actually involves. You have a fertility clinic handling the medical protocol. You have attorneys handling the legal framework. You have an escrow company managing financial disbursements. You have an insurance broker coordinating the carrier's coverage. Every one of these is a licensed professional doing their job.

What the agency does is coordinate between them — making sure information flows, tracking milestones, providing a point of contact. That has value. We don't deny that.

But people manage complex, high-stakes, multi-professional processes every single day. Buying a house involves attorneys, inspectors, lenders, title companies, and insurance — and nobody tells you that you need a $30,000–$60,000+ intermediary to manage it. IVF cycles involve the same fertility clinics, the same medication protocols, the same coordination — and nobody hires an agency to manage those either.

The agency model sells the idea that surrogacy is uniquely, impossibly complex. It isn't. It's complex in the same way that any major life process involving multiple professionals is complex. The difference is that surrogacy is emotional — and that emotion is the gap agencies exploit.

We believe technology can provide better coordination than a case manager with 30 active journeys and an email inbox. That's what we're building. But even without our platform, families have been completing independent journeys successfully for years, because the complexity is manageable when you know what the steps are and who the professionals are.

"You'll be alone. No one will support you."

This is the most effective scare tactic because it speaks to a real fear. Surrogacy is emotional. You're building your family. The idea of navigating it without someone in your corner is daunting.

But let's be honest about what agency "support" actually is. An agency case coordinator is managing dozens of journeys simultaneously. They answer emails. They make phone calls. They track deadlines. When you're terrified at 2 AM because your carrier had a complication, the agency is closed. When your transfer fails and you're devastated, the agency schedules a debrief call — during business hours.

Emotional support comes from where it has always actually come from — your partner, your family, your therapist, your clergy, your friends who've been through this. Agencies provide coordination, not emotional care. They always have. The marketing just implies otherwise.

What independent families build — and what we support through our platform — is a direct, unmediated relationship with their carrier, combined with a community of families and carriers who've navigated the same journey. No agency managing your communication. No intermediary deciding what information flows between you. Direct human connection, supplemented by people who actually understand what you're going through because they've lived it.

We believe that's better support than a case coordinator forwarding emails. You might disagree. But "you'll be alone" is not the choice. The choice is between agency-mediated support and direct support. We think the direct version is more honest and more human.

"Independent carriers are riskier."

We'll be direct: we are not aware of any published research demonstrating that carriers matched through agencies have better medical outcomes, lower complication rates, or higher success rates than carriers matched independently.

If that research exists, we welcome it. We will link to it and update this article. But in the years we've spent in this industry — as parents, as researchers, and as a company — we haven't found it. And we've looked.

The clinical screening standards are identical. The fertility clinics are the same. The ASRM guidelines apply regardless of how the match was made. A carrier who meets clinical criteria is qualified whether she was found through an agency, a community connection, or our platform.

What varies is pre-screening before the candidate reaches the clinic. Some agencies conduct extensive interviews, background checks, and home visits to filter candidates before presenting them to intended parents. In independent journeys, intended parents may conduct some of these steps themselves, or rely more on the clinic's evaluation.

Both paths lead to the same clinical screening at the same fertility clinic, evaluated against the same ASRM standards. The agency pre-screen may save time. It does not change the clinical outcome of the evaluation.

And here's something the agencies won't mention: many of the most experienced gestational carriers — women who've completed successful journeys before — actively choose to work independently rather than through agencies. They've seen how agencies operate from the inside. They prefer to set their own compensation, choose their own intended parents, and build a direct relationship. We believe that says something about which model actually serves carriers well.

Meanwhile, ask yourself who ends up in agency pipelines when the experienced, confident carriers have moved on. Not always — but often enough that it matters — the candidates agencies present are the ones who need the agency more than the agency needs them. In Joshua and Daniel's experience, the independent path connected them with our co-founder Sam, a carrier they knew, trusted, and communicated with directly. The agency path connected them with whoever the agency had available. The outcomes spoke for themselves.

"An agency protects you when things go wrong."

Let's talk about what actually happens when things go wrong — not in the brochure, but in reality.

Your legal protection is your contract — the one your attorneys drafted. Not the agency. The agency is not a party to the gestational carrier agreement. They typically don't guarantee outcomes. They don't insure your journey. If a match fails, your recourse is your contract and your attorney, whether an agency was involved or not.

But here's what the brochure really doesn't cover: what happens when the agency's screening is the thing that went wrong.

When an agency-managed match fails, agencies have a playbook. In our experience and in what we hear consistently from families in the communities we're part of, that playbook looks something like this: the agency deflects responsibility to the clinic, to the carrier, to anyone other than themselves. They point to the clause in their contract that says they can't guarantee third-party outcomes. They offer a re-match — from the same pool, screened by the same process, evaluated by the same professionals that produced the failed match in the first place. And if you push back hard enough, they offer a partial refund in exchange for your silence.

Meanwhile, you've lost embryos. You've lost months. You've lost tens of thousands of dollars beyond the agency fee. And the re-match candidates they present may be no better — and sometimes demonstrably worse — than the match that just failed.

We're describing a pattern we've observed, not making a claim about every agency. But this pattern is real, it happens far more often than the industry acknowledges, and it's a direct consequence of a business model where the agency's relationship with you ends the moment they've fulfilled the contractual minimum — regardless of the outcome.

In an independent journey, if something goes wrong, your recourse is the same: your contract, your attorney, and the legal system. What you don't have is an intermediary — which means you need to communicate directly with your carrier and your legal team. What you also don't have is a business that screened the candidate, took your $30,000–$60,000+, and is now pointing at the fine print.

In Joshua and Daniel's experience, and we present this as their personal story, not a universal claim, their agency match failed. The carrier wasn't prepared. Medication compliance wasn't maintained. Two embryos were lost. The agency didn't protect them. It deflected, blamed the clinic, fought the refund, and presented re-match candidates from the same broken pipeline. Their independent journeys, where they chose their own carrier and built a direct relationship with her, produced two healthy children. That carrier is now our co-founder Sam.

One family's experience. But it's ours, and it's the reason this company exists.

There's one more thing worth mentioning on this topic, and it's something the industry would very much prefer you not think about.

When agency matches fail badly — when families lose embryos, lose money, and lose months of their lives — there is a common resolution pattern. The family threatens to go public. The agency offers a refund. And that refund comes with a non-disparagement agreement: take your money back and never tell anyone what happened.

Think about what that means for the information environment you're navigating right now. Every time an agency says "our families love us," every time you read a website full of glowing testimonials, every time the industry points to its track record — remember that there may be families who had catastrophic experiences with that agency and are legally prohibited from saying so. They took the refund. They signed the NDA. They disappeared from the conversation.

The agency's apparent track record isn't necessarily its actual track record. It's its visible track record, after the bad outcomes have been contractually silenced.

We can't speak to the prevalence of this practice across the industry — we don't have data, and we wouldn't claim to. But we can tell you that it exists. And in our editorial opinion — one we hold firmly — it's a logical consequence of a business model where reputation is the primary asset and silence is cheaper than accountability. Intended parents deserve to know about it when they're evaluating whether an agency's "safety" narrative is the full story.

"What if the match doesn't work out?"

This is a fair question. Matches do sometimes fail — in both agency and independent arrangements. The question is what it costs you when they do.

With many agencies, a failed match means going back into their process. Some agencies charge additional matching fees. Some offer a re-match at no cost but require you to wait for a suitable candidate from their pool. You're locked into their timeline, their candidates, and their judgment about what "suitable" means for your family.

On our platform, if a match doesn't work, you're back in the matching pool at no additional cost. You search on your timeline, based on your criteria, with full access to every available profile. No one else decides when you're ready to try again or who you should consider.

The risk of a failed match exists either way. The question is how much control you retain over what happens next — and how much it costs you.

"This is too important for a tech platform."

We agree completely. This is too important to get wrong. That's exactly why we think you should be in control of it.

The agency model asks you to trust an intermediary with one of the most important decisions of your life — choosing the person who will carry your child. They select from their pool. They present candidates they've chosen. They manage your communication. You're trusting their judgment over your own.

We think you're capable of more than that. We think if you have the right information, the right tools, and access to the same professional network, you can make better decisions for your family than a case coordinator who's managing 30 other journeys at the same time.

Joshua and Daniel didn't complete two successful independent journeys because they had an agency. They completed them because they took responsibility, did the research, built a direct relationship with Sam, and hired their own professionals. We're building the tools that make that path accessible to every family.

"They're just a tech company. They don't know surrogacy."

Our co-founders Joshua and Daniel personally completed two surrogacy journeys, navigated IVF cycles, drafted legal agreements, managed escrow disbursements, coordinated with clinics across state lines, and brought two children into the world through this process. Our co-founder Sam was the gestational carrier who carried both of those journeys, and brings the experience of someone who has actually been the one carrying.

Joshua and Daniel also experienced the worst of the agency model: a failed match, lost embryos, and an agency that refused accountability.

Pineapple Family wasn't built by engineers who read about surrogacy. It was built by people who lived it from both sides, and decided that other families deserved a better option than paying $30,000 to $60,000+ for a service that didn't deliver.

A note for gestational carriers

Most of this article is addressed to intended parents, because that's who the agency scare tactics primarily target. But carriers hear their own version: "Working outside an agency leaves you unprotected. You won't have an advocate. Independent IPs are less reliable."

Ask yourself who benefits from keeping you inside an agency system. The agency sets your compensation within pre-established ranges. The agency selects your psychologist. In some cases, the agency manages your communication with your intended parents. You're a professional providing an extraordinary service — and the agency positions itself as the gatekeeper between you and the families who need you.

In an independent journey, you set your own compensation. You choose your own professionals. You build a direct relationship with your intended parents — the people whose child you're carrying. We believe that's how it should work. The agency model tells you it's dangerous. We think it's called autonomy.

And if you've ever been told by an agency that you "didn't qualify" — ask what criteria they used, and whether those criteria match the actual ASRM clinical guidelines. Agency screening criteria vary significantly from one agency to the next. A factor that disqualifies you at one agency may be perfectly acceptable at another, and may not appear anywhere in the published medical guidelines. You deserve to know whether a rejection was based on clinical evidence or an agency's internal business policy. In an independent journey, the clinical standards are transparent, and decisions about gray areas are made by you, your intended parents, and your medical team — not by an agency's proprietary rulebook.

What they'll say about this article

If our experience is any guide, the industry response to this article will follow a predictable pattern. Someone will call it irresponsible. Someone will say we're putting families at risk to make a profit. Someone will point out that we're a company with a financial interest in people choosing independence — as if agencies don't have a financial interest in people choosing agencies.

We've been transparent about who we are and what we believe. Every factual claim in this article is sourced. Every opinion is labeled. We've told you our personal story and acknowledged its limitations.

The agencies will tell you that independent surrogacy is scary. We'd encourage you to ask: scary for whom?

For families with information, tools, and professional support? Or for an industry that charges $30,000–$60,000+ and depends on you believing you can't do this without them?

Sources

  • American Society for Reproductive Medicine, Practice Committee. "Recommendations for practices using gestational carriers: a committee opinion." Fertility and Sterility, vol. 118, no. 1, July 2022, pp. 65–74. Link

  • Ethics Committee of the American Society for Reproductive Medicine. "Consideration of the gestational carrier: an Ethics Committee opinion." Fertility and Sterility, vol. 119, no. 4, April 2023, pp. 583–588. Link