A MOTHER'S PRIDE; First Person: CAROL O'REILLY.

WHEN my birthday comes around, I will receive cards and presents from my three children and none from the three I gave away, which is great - I gave birth to them, but the women I handed them over to are their mothers.

The reason goes back to one night when I watched a documentary on surrogacy. The programme finished, but as I flicked off the TV an idea began to unfurl in my mind.

Something deep inside me had stirred while watching these women describing how their lives were a mess, relationships falling apart, marriages close to the brink - all because they couldn't have a baby.

I felt so sorry for them and then I watched in amazement as their lives were transformed beyond their wildest dreams when a surrogate mother carried a baby for them.

I thought: "These women are helping other women have babies. What a beautiful, magical gift. I could do that."

Not at that precise moment, perhaps, being eight months pregnant with my second child, but definitely afterwards.

It seemed such a natural thing to do. I knew I would bring joy to the lives of other couples and enrich my own.

Glancing over at my husband Dermott, who I'd been married to for two years, I smiled as I thought of his reaction if I announced I wanted to have another man's baby.

But I'd witnessed the pain infertility causes, too, as my sister-in-law had been trying for several years to have a baby without success. She was distraught - every month was a nightmare.

I broached the subject with Dermott who, at first, thought I was utterly mad, but when he realised how determined I was, he agreed to discuss it.

It was a huge step and we talked for a long time. Finally, Dermott gave me his blessing, which was a relief as I would never have considered getting involved without his full support.

We agreed to only go ahead with a couple we were 100 per cent sure about.

A month later, I gave birth to a daughter, Lauren, and grew more determined to make the surrogacy happen. I loved being pregnant and by doing this, I could make someone's dreams come true. It would be an honour.

Initially, I considered having a baby for my sister-in-law, but she then became pregnant naturally so we decided to enrol with a surrogacy agency.

I GOT in touch with COTS - Childlessness Overcome Through Surrogacy - and they sent loads of information which Dermott and I read together.

We then sent in an application form and received a list of 10 couples who were all searching for a surrogate mum.

That was extremely difficult. How were you meant to choose when all you knew about each couple is their names, where they live and one biographical line about them? And, of course, you wanted to help them all.

Eventually we contacted one couple, but I knew as soon as I met them it wasn't going to work.

They wanted all the arrangements to be cloaked in secrecy, no-one was to know the baby was a surrogate and I was fairly sure I'd never see the baby after it was born so we refused to go ahead.

You need to get to know and trust the people you're going to give a baby to otherwise it won't work. Dermott and I had agreed we wanted the surrogate parents to be involved from the conception through the pregnancy, the birth, everything - and afterwards we wanted to keep in touch with them and the baby.

It all had to be completely open and honest, with everyone from my doctor to the milkman knowing the truth, that I was carrying a surrogate baby.

I couldn't risk my own girls being confused by someone saying to them they'd soon be getting a little brother or sister when the baby in my tummy wouldn't be coming home to us.

A few months later, in autumn 1994, we met Gary and Alison, of Aberdeen, and I knew I was going to carry their child immediately. We just clicked.

I felt so sorry for Alison. She had suffered cancer when she was just 20 and nearly dying. To save her life, she had to have her womb removed.

They shared our views on surrogacy and agreed it was important for the child to know where it came from and to keep in touch with us.

We discussed what we'd do if the baby had any disabilities and I said we'd do whatever they decided. Then we all had AIDs tests and I underwent a medical to ensure I could conceive.

I was a straight surrogate, meaning I used my eggs and Gary's sperm to conceive. Dermott and I also stopped making love to ensure there could be no doubts over the child's paternity.

Just after Christmas 1995, I injected myself with Gary's sperm from a syringe at our house in Edinburgh.

It is such an awkward situation you have to try and laugh about it to make everyone relax, otherwise the whole process can be really upsetting.

It took three attempts before I conceived and each time I had to confess to Gary and Alison I wasn't pregnant was awful. I felt so responsible for their pain, as if I'd done something wrong.

I WAS ecstatic when I finally found out I was pregnant and the delight on Gary and Alison's faces was a joy to see. I was quite overcome.

From the moment I conceived, I instantly felt this child wasn't mine, even though it was my egg and would be a half-sibling for my own children.

The conception wasn't out of love, it was clinical and meant nothing. I was simply a carrier for a child.

As far as I'm concerned, your parents are the people who bring you up. They are the people who love you, the people who change your nappies and wipe your nose.

Gary and Alison accompanied me to all my scans and hospital appointments and when the baby moved for the first time, I called her saying "your baby is kicking me".

Dermott and I sat Lauren, now 10, and Emily, 8, and explained Mummy would be having a baby because the other lady's tummy is broken. They just accepted it in the way children do.

Dermott became really involved with the pregnancy. You'd have thought he wouldn't because I was carrying another man's child, but he was fantastic. He's so proud of me and gives me all the support I could wish for.

I went into labour two weeks early and immediately called Gary and Alison, who rushed to my side. It felt natural to have them there as Dermott rubbed my back and comforted me through each contraction.

Amy, now aged seven, was born in January 1996 and after her dad cut the cord, she was handed straight to her mum. Even the midwives were crying because they said they'd witnessed such a special birth.

Having Amy was even more exciting than giving birth to my own children. I felt wonderful knowing she would be cherished more than any other child.

I held her for a few moments then handed her back and Gary and Alison took her home. I felt no pain at all at handing her over.

Eight hours later, I made the worst mistake ever. I returned to a silent empty house. My hormones started to kick in and I felt so low.

I'd been on a high for months, like being a the top of a rollercoaster, then I'd plummeted to the ground. I didn't want the baby back, but I felt very lost and confused for a while.

Gary and Alison sent me a huge bunch of flowers and were continually on the phone with updates. It wasn't long before I decided to do it all again.

Six months later, COTS put us in touch with Clare and Derek, from Tayside, who we also liked instantly. They were desperate to have a child, but Clare had suffered the heartache of two stillborn babies and needed to have her ovaries removed.

This time I conceived immediately. Stewart was born in June 1997 and handed straight to his mum, who cried with happiness.

Going home this time was very different. I made sure I returned to a full, happy house and stayed in much closer contact with Claire and Derek so that awful empty feeling didn't envelope me again.

Soon afterwards, Clare asked if I would consider having another child for them. I was incredibly flattered and agreed to help.

But, six months later, before I tried to have another baby for Clare, I found out I was expecting Dermott's child. It was totally unplanned as we'd been using precautions.

Clare and Derek were naturally disappointed, but wished us all the best and we stayed in close contact. It felt very strange to be pregnant with Dermott's child again after having carried two other men's babies. I took a long time to adjust and cope with the idea of becoming a mother again.

Giving birth to Patrick, now four, was completely different to having the surrogate babies and we bonded instantly.

I vowed never to try surrogacy again, but by that time I'd become very heavily involved in the surrogacy world and when I met Phillipa and Kevin, I was so touched by their plight I couldn't help but want to help them.

They'd been trying for a baby for three years with two surrogates and no luck. The first surrogate had tried every month for two years, but just hadn't conceived.

Their second surrogate conceived, but had a miscarriage and suffered complications which caused her tubes to be removed.

After discussing it with Dermott, I offered to help them and they were thrilled. My first attempt was unsuccessful. I invited Philippa and Kevin to spend a relaxing day in Edinburgh with us before trying again.

But disaster struck when their train broke down en route and they arrived in Edinburgh with only 20 minutes to spare before their return train left.

When they arrived, I saw how disappointed they were and I offered to go ahead with the insemination in the toilets if they were willing.

Kevin went off and did what he had to do in the gents. I went to the ladies then I did what I had to do.

Nine months later, in August last year with Kevin and Philippa by my side, I gave birth to Kitty.

Now, six months on, they're so delighted with Kitty they've asked me to have a sibling for her and I've agreed to try again for them this summer. But that will be it this time. There will be no more babies for me.

Out of my 12-year marriage with Dermott, I've been pregnant for six years. I just can't do it any more. I want to help everyone, but physically if I go on having babies it will kill me.

Instead I've chosen to help childless couples by setting up my own surrogacy agency, called Surrogacy UK, with a friend who is also a surrogate mum. I never got paid for it, just my expenses. It's illegal to be paid for surrogacy anyway.

I have no maternal bond with the surrogate children and, while they are genetically mine, I've never thought of myself as their mother. To them, I'm just Auntie Carol.

Some people think I'm mad, but I'm giving other people the greatest gift there is. You find you've changed the lives of so many people, not just the couple themselves, but the grandparents, aunts, uncles and friends.

All the couples I have helped are now good friends. Alison and Gary bring Amy to see me about twice a year. Stewart's mum is one of my best friends and I see Kitty and her mum and dad every few months.

I haven't one regret - we've created an extended family and I love seeing the children I've created bring so much joy to their parents. I gave them what they couldn't have and with all my heart I was glad to do it.

Names of the surrogate babies and their parents have been changed.

For more details, contact Surrogacy UK on 0131-620-3300 or visit www.surrogacyuk.org

AS TOLD TO YVONNE McGREGOR