Blog 15: The very true story of my friends naming my Surrobabe

Carrie Ramoz
Carrie Ramoz

The warm, dark coffee was delicious on the snowy January morning.

I pretended it actually contained caffeine – placebo effect! –  as brunch at my friend Sun’s house got underway.


While discussing my pregnancy, the girls decided the baby needed a name, as they did not want to refer to it as ‘the baby’ throughout the surrogacy. The only Swedish names I knew were my intended parents, Johan and Anders. However, my friends harnessed their mimosa-inspired creative powers and suddenly CeCe announced that she had the ‘best name ever’. Sven is a very common Swedish name, she said. We all agreed… as if we knew anything about Swedish names.

SVEN. Yes!


My friends loved the nickname. I was relieved as I’d wanted to identify the baby somehow and had been unsure how to do it. The idea of “Sven” seemed perfect. The gender was still unknown, and this nickname would be even funnier if it turned out to be a girl. Plus, I could have the comfort of using a name without fear of forming an attachment. Even though Johan and Anders had not discussed potential names with me, I felt safe assuming Sven would not be a name on their short list.


As the brunch continued, questions about the surrogacy dominated the conversation.

  • What about the compensation? It will be very helpful and I can’t wait to refurnish my house, pay down some debt and create an emergency fund. Look at me, so responsible!
  • Is everything paid for? Yes, prenatal vitamins, milage, maternity clothes, the delivery, nursing supplies –  every single aspect is covered by the intended parents. 
  • Was I scared of gaining weight for someone else’s baby? Noooooo….  And no thanks for asking. I plan to begin running again as soon as the clinic doctor allows me to. 
  • What was the embryo transfer like? Shockingly quick and easy.
  • Was I nervous about bonding with Sven? Not yet. Mostly stoked to see Johan and Anders meet Sven for the first time.
  • What did my son think? Ahhhh… I still need to tell him about all of this and will put it off as long as possible!

Sven! Here’s to Sven!” my friends cheered as they raised their glasses.

Lucky Sven! You already have a fan club in Oregon. 




Dodging snowflakes as I walked home, I messaged Johan and Anders about the brunch conversation.

I hope they’re not offended that we nicknamed their baby Sven.


Anders replied quickly and was graciously amused by the whole thing. It turns out they didn’t even know anyone named Sven! A quick Google search revealed that ‘Sven’ had not been a popular name in Sweden since the 1930s.


I wondered if Sven would be a boy or girl and what name Johan and Anders would ultimately choose. Perhaps they could use Sven as a middle name as a reminder of their surrogate and her well-meaning friends! Unlikely, but the thought made me smile. This entire adventure was off to a fun and hilarious start and I couldn’t wait to see what was next.


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