Life was good for Tess Nordstog.

She owned a sports supplement store, Fit Pit, where she helped people achieve their nutritional and athletic goals for nearly seven years.

“But sitting in the shop, I felt like I was going through the motions, doing the same things every day, talking about the same things every day,” said Nordstog, 31.

She was ready to funnel the energy she’d used to cultivate a comfortable life for herself and her now 5-year-old daughter, Chloe, toward benevolence. She considered foster care or volunteering for Big Brothers Big Sisters. She settled on becoming a gestational surrogate — someone who carries a couple’s child to term.

In doing so, Nordstog could not have known how chaotic her life would become.

“We had some substantial challenges with the surrogacy,” Nordstog recently said with a laugh. Three days after giving birth to a healthy baby boy (Theo), who does not carry her genes, she endured a substantial hemorrhage.

“The biggest, worst, craziest thing” came early on, before Nordstog even became pregnant. Jeri Chambers, the owner of Greatest Gift Surrogacy Center, which is located near Portland, and who matched Nordstog with an infertile Los Angeles couple, closed her agency, according to a lawsuit filed in Washington County Circuit Court. And she failed to repay those who had given her money for surrogacy services, according to the lawsuit — including the $30,000 Nordstog was set to receive in payment from the couple.

The couple, David Jurmain and Lilla Zuckerman, are both in their 30s and writers for television. On Jurmain’s birthday, he called Nordstog, who had yet to be impregnated, with the news about the surrogacy center’s closing. She was the second surrogate the couple had worked with after the first one experienced a miscarriage.

“We wondered, ‘Why do these things keep happening?’’ Nordstog said with a sigh. “And, ‘Why specifically are these things happening to us?’”

Nordstog, who intended to donate the entire payment to a charitable cause, suggested she carry the child to term for free. Jurmain and Zuckerman would have nothing of it.

“We said absolutely not,” Zuckerman said with a laugh.

The parents coordinated with Nordstog independent of a surrogacy agency.

“We will find more money,” Jurmain said.

‘Substantial challenges’

Jurmain and Zuckerman had struggled to conceive for nearly five years. The pair has “pretty much relegated (themselves) to have weird, squished-faced dogs, and traveling some more,” she said with a laugh. Zuckerman went in for some testing and learned that a botched medical procedure she’d undergone 12 years prior rendered her unable to conceive, yet she still produced fertile eggs.

“That’s when we learned surrogacy would be an option for us,” Zuckerman said.

The husband and wife found the Greatest Gift Surrogacy Center. Before Nordstog, the aspiring parents were paired with a surrogate who miscarried and couldn’t get pregnant thereafter. Over the course of a year, Jurmain and Zuckerman lost four embryos. Then the agency matched them with Nordstog.

She also struggled to become pregnant as the first two embryos failed to embed. Nordstog wondered if the fertility drugs were complicating things. Jurmain and Zuckerman agreed to take Nordstog up on the suggestion she try it drug-free, which doctors allowed “after much hemming and hawing,” Jurmain said.

As historic snowfall blanketed Central Oregon in December, Nordstog drove to Portland — a trip that took eight hours due to treacherous driving conditions — and received an implant that would finally stick.

“Tess is a superstar,” Zuckerman said.

“We were down to our last three embryos, so there was a bit of a Hail Mary associated with this,” Jurmain said. “And the embryos were not the best three; they were the last three. One of them was the runtiest of the runts,” Jurmain said with a laugh.

“That might be (Theo),” Zuckerman added.

As the fetus grew, the pair communicated via Skype, yet it wasn’t until June, when Nordstog was 5½ months pregnant, that they met in person. Nordstog’s younger sister was getting married in Santa Barbara, California, and Jurmain and Zuckerman drove up to meet Nordstog for what she called a “fortuitous meeting.” Over lunch, the three sparked a rapport. Zuckerman was amazed by the bump in Nordstog’s belly where her child was growing by the day. The aspiring mother asked more than a couple times to hold Nordstog’s tummy, through which she could feel little kicks.

“Oh my gosh,” Nordstog said. “Your little baby boy is in there, of course!” Nordstog said with a laugh. “Nothing in this whole thing is normal.”

Nordstog said she appreciated the fast bond the three forged, yet she waited for the parents-to-be’s cues regarding what her role — if any — might be in the newborn’s life.

“I wanted them to be the ones to put it in terms,” she said, adding that she noticed she increasingly heard the term “auntie,” and “cousin” in relation to her daughter Chloe.

Jurmain and Zuckerman said they look forward to including Tess and Chloe in Theo’s life.

“We’re so lucky to have an awesome relationship — that’s not always the case” for other surrogates and new parents, she said.

When Tess learned the fetus’ gender, Chloe was asked to make a decorative sign that read “It’s a boy!” which she held up for the parents during a Skype call. The new parents have since framed the decorative sign, which hangs in the baby’s nursery.

Toward the end of September, Jurmain and Zuckerman traveled to Central Oregon; the three agreed Nordstog should give birth to their son at St. Charles Bend. Despite the pregnancy’s tribulations, Nordstog gave birth to Theo on Sept. 24, five days before the due date, at 6 p.m. His birth weight was 7 pounds, 4 ounces. He was 19 inches long.

It was a “piece of cake” compared to when Nordstog gave birth to Chloe, which involved a cesarean section operation.

The easy birth preceded a “really intense moment,” Nordstog said. She and the new parents “had a game plan, who can hold the baby, who can cut the cord, put him on her chest,” she said. After staff cleaned Theo, who was placed on Nordstog’s chest, they carried him to his biological mother.

“He was just this delicious gooey baby,” Zuckerman said. “The nurses said he was one of the cutest babies on the floor. And, you know, those people are professionals,” she added with a laugh.

“I just cried,” Nordstog said. “It was just so awesome. It happened just the way it was supposed to be, and it was perfect.”

And Nordstog’s philanthropic gestures continued.

Nordstog, who had sold her store, decided to use her surrogacy money to benefit her best friend — who has lived with periodontal disease for years. Despite working as a nurse, the woman, who asked to remain anonymous, said her health insurance doesn’t cover the surgical operation, which will include a full complete dental reconstruction. It’s a major undertaking that may cost $55,000 — quite a bit more than the $30,000 Nordstog gave to her friend. Nordstog set up a GoFundMe page for her friend to help bridge the gap. The fundraising effort has reached nearly $7,000 of its $20,000 goal.

Nordstog’s friend said she has always known Nordstog to be “kind and giving. That drew me to her. Since I’ve known her, she’s wanted to help people in all the ways she can. It’s not surprising at all.”

The operation, which has been scheduled this month, will “be such a relief,” she said.

— Reporter: 541-617-7816, pmadsen@bendbulletin.com