I'm so incredibly sad it's tough to even type about it. A very dear friend adopted their second baby in May. The birthfather knew about the pregnancy for the entire duration and chose not to participate. They were required to wait 60 days post-birth for it to be completely clear. On the 59th day he decided he wanted to assert his rights. It's been a court battle since then and they just had a hearing. The 18 year old birthdad showed up...with his mom. (You f*cking loser!), he wants full custody. He explained to the court that he's fit to be a parent because as long as he stays living with his mom he can afford to make child support. Excuse me? And, ladies and gentlemen, here is our legal system at it's best.
Thanks to a myriad of medical bullshit, I was home early from work today and had a chance to veg on the sofa and catch up on Oprah reruns. A recent episode featured a variety of individuals who had achieved the semi-classical fairytale from rags to riches. One such individual is now the lead singer of Journey, apparently the 80's band had their lead singer leave them a decade ago and they found this new guy thanks to YouTube. He was stricken with poverty and living in the Philippines but thanks to his internet video he is now performing in front of thousands and making millions. Oprah asked him if he ever dreamt of achieving such success, his reply? He never dreamed that big, he simply wanted to escape poverty. While his response was a fleeting a moment within an hour long show, I couldn't ignore the tinge my heart felt when I heard his response. In so many ways, he allowed himself to settle. He was capable of (apparently) being a lead singer in a popular American band and his standard to exceed was to simply climb out of poverty.
If I could sit back and imagine my greatest dreams, considering all the reality I live within, an intimate and connected surrogacy journey is my biggest wish. Had we proceeded with parenthood a year or two ago, when I was literally on my knees in hysterics begging my husband for a baby, we would have traveled down the more traditional infertility path toward adoption. Surely, we would love our baby and my heart would be aching less than it is today because it would already be filled with the joys of motherhood. I wonder though if there are parts of my heart that can only be healed through surrogacy.
We have the divine blessing of a surrogate who is willing to make us parents from her biological connection, and with the help of a sperm donor, our child will have no genetic connection to either of us. Adoption is definitely a logical choice, but it doesn't complete my soul in the way I expect surrogacy will. As often as I dream about the precious moments with my newborn I also dream of the precious moments during the pregnancy. I wonder how I will be able to stay away from M for more than a few days at a time, how much I'll want to be near her to be near the baby. I want to spend time with M's kid's so that one day in the future as they encounter people who may have adverse opinions toward their mother's choice to be a surrogate, they can remember me and remember the happiness and joy that their family brought to ours. I want to hear the heartbeat every moment I can. I keep having this random baby fantasy that M is pregnant during Christmas time and I wake up Christmas morning to a phone call from her in which she plays our baby's heartbeat for us. There is nothing greater that could be under the Christmas tree.
In an odd sort of way, I'm proud of my dh & I for allowing ourselves to dream big. To not settling for what is less than we are capable of. For reaching out, to join together with another family for a lifelong journey together, and strive everyday to give back in the greatest ways possible. Dream big? I just have.
Our basement remodel project (AKA: my extreme nesting renovation) is going well, despite a very chaotic weekend. We had no water, hot water heater, or furnace all day Saturday or Sunday. Thankfully, my very patient and loving husband had it all fixed by Sunday evening with much progress made in the basement. It's amazing how every decision we're making for this project involves "the baby".
Last night we went to Home Depot to pick out door handles for the doors that he'll be installing. We stood in the isle examining all the options and having a discussion about which doors should have locks on them. We decided that all the doors would be without any locking functions except the bathroom door. It's completely ridiculous as I look back on our discussion, standing in home depot, not expecting a baby anytime soon and discussing how we don't want our child to be able to lock himself in any of the rooms in the basement. The problems with that conversation are endless...we don't have a baby, we aren't expecting a baby, even if we have a baby next year it won't be walking or able to open a door. In theory, we purchased door handles in anticipation of our non-existent child being safe and unable to lock himself in a room in the basement.
We leave this week for our magical vacation to Disney World. It may very well be the last Disney trip we take as a couple. Although, my dh is convinced that we should go again in May before we start ttc. I certainly cannot argue against a Disney vacation! It's always such an emotional time going to Disney together. I absolutely love Disney, it's a true passion of mine, but seeing all the children and all the families always reminds me of the empty place in my heart. I will do my best to fill it with pixie dust, Mickey ears, and sunshine.
Doctors have me on a new medication and insurance classifies it as a "contraceptive" so it's a wonderful $120 per month. That's more than our cell phone bill, our car insurance, or our water bill per month. I called the insurance company to clarify how they could possibly charge me, sans uterus, for a contraceptive. I knew I wouldn't win the argument but it's still a fight worth fighting. Abortions, Viagra, and pregnancy are covered but apparently medication for a 26 year old going through menopause defies all rational understanding from the insurance company.
Since I was cursed with a period at 10 years old, I've had a black cloud of infertility following me everywhere. It was my shadow at every doctor's visit, surrogacy agency, adoption agency, conversation with my dh about baby making, it was even there on my wedding day. There are days now that I'm convinced the black cloud is still following close-by. I see the images of all my pregnant friends/relatives/neighbors in the reflection of the cloud.
When we met M, I thought just for a second that perhaps the cloud was lifting. Perhaps, despite the years of it's seemingly eternal attachment, it was learning to adjust to separating from me. I had her, this beautiful woman who had agreed to be our angel. There surely isn't a black cloud in site. And then we returned to reality and the cloud joined us. He was there during all the poor semen analysis and urologist appointments. He stayed by my side as I fought, screamed, and cried with my husband as we realized we'd need both a surrogate and a sperm donor to become parents. I've been fearful that this cloud would follow my entire path to parenthood but it seems I've found it's weakness: M. The cloud wasn't around when M was around and today M emailed to say that her new insurance does not have a surrogacy exclusion! It's almost surreal to consider that it's happening so easily, without a cloud in site.
In 9 months, we'll be pregnant. I'm quite amused that the countdown has now reached a point in which it equals the gestational period. It's a wonderful way for me to find happiness as I wait for the greatest journey of my life. Too many people in my life are pregnant right now and soon they will be having their babies. And for those 9 months that I knew of their pregnancy, it is that length of time until I can declare our own pregnancy. Just 9 months. And, once I wait these 9 months, I will only have to wait that duration one more time until I hold the greatest miracle in my arms. I will bring my baby to my breast to nourish him the way a mother does. I will look into the eyes of the other miracle in the room and wonder how I will ever be able to thank her for changing the world through her selflessness and empathy to create a life that she will allow me to nurture and love for eternity. I promise, M, that I will work so hard every moment to be the best mother that I can be...not only because my child deserves that, but because it is truly the only way to show you our genuine thanks for all you have done.
Hysterectomy. Oopherectomy. We tried surrogacy. Failed. Sort-of tried adoption and it sort-of failed. Matched with a surrogate for a year to find out insurance won't cover the pregnancy. Not sure what's next...