We've already given the recent boom in (*ahems*IVaided) fraternal twins a nod. This coupled with the almost mandatory decline in natural births is leaving celebrity mothers with little in the way of innate action downstairs.
We've also addressed the likes of Clay Aiken and Michael Jackson who've handed a lady friend a turkey baster, while professional hip swinger Ricky Martin enlisted the services of "a serial surrogate". TMZ reported that the 26-year-old "works for an agency that hooks up surrogates, and Ricky's bambinos are her third surrogate (and second set of twins) - but she says her womb isn't open to Britney Spears or Michael Jackson… We're told before the birth, the two only met a couple of times, and contact with Mr. Loca was mostly through phone and email. Her medical bills were taken care of by Martin, and she received a weekly massage and a housekeeper. Ricky was apparently disappointed at first with the news of twins - which he thought showed the public (and press) the obvious nature of a potential surrogate. He soon got over it - and the mother considers him both nice and generous. We're told Ricky was with her in San Diego when the twins fell out of her. "
Such is the vanity of celebrity, it won't be long before such perfectly healthy women start employing surrogates to grow all their offspring. Hey, why not forego the stretchmarks and boobage sag if you can afford to, am I right?! Then, if Kate Garraway has her way, the presumed barrage of fraternal twins will be wet-nursed by some stranger (that's assuming your surrogate's womb hasn't already been rented out to another client). Then they'll be carted off to creche/some nanny, then boarding school, then college, and will finally meet their biological parents for the first time when they're 20 years of age - when their weirdly inexplicable aversion to intimacy/bonding in general, not to mention extravagant accessories, reaches crisis point.
The End.
