Surrogate Equation Didn’t Require a King Solomon

In the end, the judge didn’t have to play either God or King Solomon.

He did just fine playing Judge Richard N. Parslow Jr. of Orange County Superior Court, and he made a ruling that neither God nor Solomon would overturn on appeal.

When it works best, the law is a beautiful bouquet of legalese and common sense. Just enough legalese to let us know that society has order to it, but also enough common sense to reassure us that the law connects with our sense of what’s right.

And by any reasonable standard of common sense, Parslow made the right decision in ordering that Crispina and Mark Calvert are entitled to sole custody of their 5-week-old son. He also made the correct decision in ruling that Anna Johnson isn’t entitled to any parental rights.

It’s as simple as Egg plus Sperm equals Our Baby.

Parslow couched his total repudiation of Anna L. Johnson’s position by delivering his decision in an informal, almost conversational tone that didn’t play to the crowd.

Not that the setting wasn’t right for some theatrics.

“Five minutes!” Marshal Jim Stringer announced to the packed courtroom crowd that had come to hear the verdict.

“Places, everyone!” Stringer proclaimed as court was about to convene.

Given that kind of cue, you half expected a soundtrack to kick in, the Calverts to burst into sobs at their counsel’s table and the judge to ride in on a white horse as Stringer cried out, “Action!”

But this was real life and not the movies. One look at Cris Calvert’s face and you sensed she knew what the judge’s ruling would be. She looked composed and at peace, not the look of a mother wondering whether her child was going to be taken from her.

And Parslow, to his undying credit, didn’t ham it up. He could have gone Hollywood but instead killed the suspense early by saying he was “not going to split this baby,” a la King Solomon. He then followed not with flowery oratory but with the kind of explanation that left people saying, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

And as if any more of a tip-off was needed as to which way the judge was ruling, neither Anna Johnson nor Richard Gilbert, her main attorney, was in the courtroom.

That the decision was so obvious was also reflected in the audience. No one seemed surprised. There was no outburst, no gasp that often accompanies verdicts or sentences.

Afterward, Harold LaFlamme, the baby’s court-appointed attorney, stood outside on the fifth-floor balcony and said the case never was very complicated. “So ridiculously simple,” was how LaFlamme described it.

So ridiculously simple, and yet it attracted national press attention and has given all the players their 15 minutes of fame. And although Anna Johnson’s boat began to take on water a long time ago, a troubling thought worth pondering is that perhaps a different judge would have granted her partial custody or visitation.

With estimates that 15% of married couples aren’t able to have babies the old-fashioned way, Parslow rightly said that surrogation isn’t going away. “The in-vitro fertilization genie is out of the bottle, and we can’t put it back,” he said.

Given that reality, the state Legislature needs to address the question and establish conditions for surrogation. Who should be eligible to seek a surrogate? Who should be eligible to serve as one? It shouldn’t be surrogation-on-demand, unless you’ve got the stomach for endless sequels to Calvert vs. Johnson. The Center for Surrogate Parenting in Beverly Hills, for example, rejects 19 of every 20 applicants for a variety of reasons.

And what about Anna Johnson? If there ever were a time when some counsel, and not necessarily legal, were called for, now is the time. She needs the equivalent of the boxer’s cornerman who tells his fighter that he’s getting clobbered and there’s no point in going on.

Once upon a time, Anna Johnson did a wonderful thing--she agreed to deliver a baby for a couple that could never have their own biological child. It was a noble deed she could have taken to her grave.

For whatever reasons--and her own words and actions are the most damning--she slipped off the track.

Is it for love or money, Anna?

If it’s love--love for a child that you claim you want the best for--there’s a clear course of action.

Forget about an appeal.

Just walk away.