A Surrogacy Silk Road: Chinese Parents Head West for Babies

This article was originally published in ChinaFile and is republished here with the permission of the author.

On the popular Chinese social media platform Xiaohongshu, also known as RedNote, an account called “Georgia Notes” (@格鲁吉亚小纸条) offers tips and advice to Chinese nationals planning a trip to the Republic of Georgia. In one post, it warns “ordinary tourists traveling back to China” that their five-hour-long return flight from Tbilisi to Ürümchi, in Xinjiang, is likely to be crowded with crying newborn babies. An unpleasant surprise, assures the author of the post, who counted 20 infants aboard his own flight: “I felt something was wrong from the moment I checked in. A group of middle-aged men were checking in with newborn babies.”

Georgia has become an increasingly popular destination for Chinese visitors. The number of visits nearly tripled between 2023 and 2024, with more than 88,500 visits last year. Yet leisure tourism does not account for the infant-filled flights back to China. Rather, it seems more likely the tiny passengers were the reason many Chinese visitors had traveled to Georgia in the first place. The international surrogacy market has boomed in the region, where it has come to be considered a “gold mine” according to a recent publication by the University of Oxford’s Centre on Migration, Policy and Society (COMPAS). Since war broke out in 2022 between Russia and Ukraine—the former regional leaders of the market—and Russia banned foreigners from accessing its commercial surrogacy market later that year, prospective parents have had to turn to new destinations in the region. The popularity of international surrogacy services in Post-Soviet states, especially in Georgia, Kyrgyzstan, and Kazakhstan, has been on the rise.

On Chinese social media, trending hashtags #georgiababy (#格鲁吉亚宝宝) alongside #mixed-bloodbaby (#混血宝宝) hint at the popularity of these destinations for Chinese nationals seeking to have a child through surrogacy. Prior to the war, Chinese nationals constituted a majority (54 percent) of individuals pursuing surrogacy in Ukraine and 14 percent in Georgia, revealing the significant weight of the Chinese clientele for this multibillion-dollar industry.

As China grapples with historically low fertility rates threatening economic stability, this demand for international surrogacy reveals the evolving reality of people in China’s reproductive choices. Some young Chinese adults who feel the weight of the traditional pressure to continue family lineage are finding a solution in international surrogacy. In turn, international surrogacy is giving rise to alternative family structures in China, with single parents and same-sex couples proudly sharing their parenthood journeys on social media platforms despite a lack of government endorsement.

The high demand from China reflects both a global trend—some experts estimate 30,000 children are born annually through surrogacy—and the country’s specific social context. Han Tao, a post-doctoral researcher at the University of Freiburg with a Ph.D. in Social Anthropology focusing on queer families and assisted reproductive technologies in China, points out that the general preference for surrogacy as opposed to adoption in China is partially explained by the “everlasting notion of bloodline.” This concept makes the continuation of ancestral bloodlines a social and filial imperative famously summarized by Confucian thinker Mencius who wrote that “out of the three ways to be unfilial, to have no descendants is the worst” (不孝有，无后为大).

One China-based French father of a child born to a surrogate mother—whom I’ll call Richard as he asked for anonymity because of the legal uncertainties in China—told me that when his Chinese husband turned 29, “the pressure from his parents started. At some point it wasn’t clear to me who we were having this baby for: us or his parents.” In his experience, and judging by the case of friends who went through the surrogacy process, Richard believes that “Chinese parents will often make their peace with their son being gay as long as they can have a grandchild to maintain appearances and continue the bloodline.”

Beyond considerations of filial duty, the Chinese government has been desperate to increase the country’s fertility rate, which has been around 1.0 births per woman since 2022. Changes in China’s family planning policies, most notably moving away from the one-child policy to the two-child policy in 2015, replaced in turn with the three-child policy in 2021, have not convinced people to have more babies. And although some provinces like Shaanxi, Guangdong, Fujian, and Sichuan do not require marriage as a prerequisite for registering a child, China’s family planning policies remain centered around married—and hence heterosexual—couples, who are the only legal recipients of assisted reproductive technologies such as IUI (intrauterine insemination) and IVF (in vitro fertilization), as well as the only accepted candidates to adopt a child in the country.

Additionally, the unbalanced sex ratio in the country, resulting from the traditional preference for sons, creates an increasing number of bachelors unable to marry. Projections show there will be 119 men for every 100 women of average marrying age by 2027.

But Chinese aspiring parents hoping to start a family via surrogacy have no legal local options. Surrogacy is strictly prohibited in China under a 2001 law, and the domestic black market is increasingly on the authorities’ radar since the National Health and Family Planning Commission announced a crackdown on illegal surrogacy in 2017. After the domestic surrogacy market bloomed during the pandemic (as nationals could not leave the country to access international surrogacy), in 2021 the authorities organized another crackdown under China’s Action Plan Against Human Trafficking. Two years later, a maternity ward in the city of Guangzhou was targeted on suspicion of being a hotspot for surrogacy births. On social media, the word for surrogacy (代孕, daiyun) is censored, and those using it risk seeing their content or even their accounts deleted. In a video on social media platform Xiaohongshu, Chengdu Lawyer Hoo explained to his few hundred followers that the national ban is meant to prohibit the commercialization of both women’s wombs and of babies, and to avoid disputes between client-parents and surrogate mothers that might arise from surrogacy contracts.

While medical institutions offering domestic surrogacy services in China risk administrative sanctions and heavy fines, no legal sanctions are defined for surrogate mothers or individuals seeking surrogacy services. However, surrogacy contracts are not recognized, and in the event of a dispute, client-parents are at risk of being unable to claim parental rights.

These factors drive people with sufficient resources to seek international options. Between the early 2000s and mid-2010s, most Chinese seeking surrogacy abroad went to Southeast Asia, because of low prices and convenient proximity with China. But that has changed as surrogacy is now in a grey legal area, if not altogether illegal, in previously popular countries: Thailand banned commercial surrogacy in 2015, followed by Cambodia the next year, based on existing laws against human-trafficking.

In contrast, some post-Soviet countries offer clear legal frameworks on the matter. Georgia passed legislation officially legalizing surrogacy as early as 1997, followed by Armenia in 2002.

While prices have increased with demand, the competitive price of surrogacy in the region—between $40,000 to $70,000—remains a key attraction. (U.S. prices commonly exceed $150,000.) In addition, direct flights from Xinjiang are an added convenience for Chinese nationals.

This is where people like Elena Burtseva come in. She is 35 years old, and describes herself as a “passionate worker” who wants to contribute to a surrogacy industry that is “transparent and fair to all parties.” She manages the international—mainly Chinese—market for Embrymama, one of the largest international surrogacy networks headquartered in Russia. Embrymama manages around 100 cases with Chinese prospective parents every year. Burtseva, who graduated in Chinese studies from Saint Petersburg University in 2012, and spent eight years working and studying in China and working with Chinese officials in Russia, is not only fluent in Mandarin but also prides herself on what she calls her “deep understanding of Chinese mentalities.”

The surrogacy process with Embrymama typically takes 12 to 18 months. It begins when prospective parents contact the agency to discuss medical and legal aspects. “When it comes to Chinese prospective parents,” says Burtseva, “most of them come to us through agents—very few contact us directly.” Next comes the selection by prospective parents of an egg donor, followed by matching with a suitable surrogate, through either agencies or private arrangements. After legal agreements are signed, the embryo transfer proceeds. “It is very frequent that the sperm donation or IVF would be carried out in [the prospective parents’] country, and that the embryo would then be sent to the country where surrogacy is legal to be implanted in the surrogate mother,” explains Burtseva. Throughout the pregnancy, the agency handles all legal preparation for birth, including documentation for parental rights.

Due to limited information online and the language barrier, most Chinese prospective parents work through agencies in China. They are typically registered as medical consultancy companies, and discreetly and creatively advertise surrogacy services, since direct advertisement of surrogacy is illegal. Surrogacy companies are creative: Richard told me that he and his husband went on a getaway weekend to a hot-spring hotel organized by their local queer hiking group, and discovered that the event had been sponsored by an international surrogacy company.

“These agencies are like travel agencies” explains Burtseva, with one department seeking out patients in China through such methods as private messages on social media and a local department organizing services in Georgia. One company registered in Georgia offers all-inclusive contracts for approximately $78,000, covering medical services, transportation, accommodation, and legal assistance from a Georgian lawyer.

After considering different options to have a child, Richard and his husband started considering surrogacy in 2019. Richard found the process ethically troubling at times; he said that the women listed in the egg donor catalogue were exclusively from Russia and Eastern Europe and “catered to a fantasy of tall blondes with blue eyes.” The choice of their surrogate mother, however, was largely out of their hands: They originally expected the surrogate mother to be from Thailand and were surprised when the agency connected them with a woman from Kazakhstan.

Embrymama works with local clinics around post-Soviet countries, where Burtseva has observed the evolution of the market: “Georgia is a small country, and they have been running out of Georgian surrogate mothers for a while.” Georgian clinics have therefore been recruiting surrogate mothers from Central Asia’s Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, and Kyrgyzstan, who are attracted by the flexible legislation and better compensation. “But despite this recruitment of foreign surrogate mothers, the waiting list has become very long.”

In reaction, Kyrgyzstan is positioning itself to replace Georgia as leader of the industry in the region. In January 2024, the Central Asian country clarified its existing law to explicitly broaden access to surrogacy regardless of medical indications or marital status. Kyrgyzstan introduced a visa-free regime for organized Chinese tour groups last year. That same year, it saw 127,956 Chinese visitors, a 56 percent year-on-year increase. Georgia also has a visa-free policy for Chinese tourists.

Whichever country Chinese parents turn to for surrogacy services, when they return home with surrogate babies they must navigate many administrative puzzles, including “obtaining birth certificates, taking DNA paternity tests, and securing travel documents before applying for household registration (hukou) in China,” according to Burtseva. Additional hurdles await single and gay men seeking surrogacy in Georgia, where the illegality of same-sex marriage is inscribed in the constitution and where access to surrogacy is restricted to heterosexual couples and single women. Luckily for them, it has become routine for agencies to guide them through the process of ensuring custody of surrogate-born children, including the completion of a birth certificate, with such strategies as having a female friend pose as their partner.

Such loopholes and legal grey areas encourage fraud. Burtseva acknowledges “instances of Chinese agencies and individuals that twist or hide information for the sake of profit.” She mentions two Chinese men arriving in Kyrgyzstan after their surrogacy business had failed in Kazakhstan—“one of them spent money to promote his business on social media, offering very low prices, while actually he had no team, no clinic, no surrogate mothers, nothing—they just run away with the money.” In Georgia, a February 2025 scandal revealed that Chinese-owned Babycam Medical Consulting Group in Tbilisi allegedly brought Thai women to Georgia who believed they would serve as surrogate mothers, and instead forced them into an egg-harvesting scheme.

Nonetheless, demand for surrogacy services for Chinese customers remains strong. While on social media it seems that gay men in their late 20s or 30s comprise the majority of Chinese international surrogacy clients, Han Tao’s research indicates that “they are simply more visible online. Many reproductively challenged heterosexual couples, for whom IVF treatments have failed, seek surrogacy, but they can hide it more easily.” Heterosexual couples can play off the general assumption that the birth was natural or the result of a legal assisted reproductive technology, such as an IVF or IUI.

Despite the challenges, international surrogacy options continue to emerge for Chinese prospective parents. It seems fair to assume that, unless further scandals draw attention to the phenomenon, Chinese authorities will keep on turning a blind eye towards international surrogacy as they welcome any additional births that can boost the country’s fertility rates.