I’ve Stolen A Well Written Article ( do you forgive me?)

I liked this. I related to a lot of what was being said. So I figured what the heck, lets post it on my site! Here you go, something to pass the time!

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Life After a Surrogate Birth

You’ve just delivered a surrogate baby, what are you going to do? If you answered you’re going to Disneyland, perhaps you should postpone that a month or so. Chances are you’re going into that amusement park thrill ride all its own: post partum mood swings.

I’ve read many surrogate birth stories over the past two years, and they’re all wonderful to read. But some have stuck out for their honesty in dealing with the emotional aspects of the time after the birth. And those that have shared a common theme: it’s not all happy all the time.

I think this is an important message to get out there to those in the world of surrogacy who haven’t been through a birth yet: either as a surrogate or as an intended parent (IP). Many birth stories I read (by surrogates; I’ve read a few by the new parents themselves, but not as frequently. Hard as it is to believe, it seems they have something else to concentrate on ;)) would describe the amazing moment when the child was born and handed to the IPs, and how seeing how happy that made them made the surrogate feel an amazing surge of peace and pride for doing this amazing thing. Very few of these birth stories mentioned the down time that follows for MANY surrogates.

It seems in part to avoid scaring others, and in part to avoid having others think they are “regretting their decision” or “want to keep the baby,” many surrogates don’t mention or downplay the sadness they experience after the delivery. And while I’m sure there are some surrogates out there who never have a single pang of sadness, that would seem to be a highly unlikely scenario. Though not for the reasons many outsiders initially assume.

In today’s society, if you mention surrogacy, people often still think instantly of Mary Beth Whitehead (15 years later!). One of the main questions surrogates are asked is “how can you be sure you can give up the baby?” That is what everyone focuses on. And many surrogates report feeling totally “watched” in the days and weeks following delivery, as those around them - especially those who were skeptical about the whole surrogacy thing to begin with - wait for them to fall apart and realize they made a huge mistake and they want that baby back. They feel the only way to avoid having to explain and justify any sadness is to deny any has occurred.

But would it not be normal to be sad at the end of a surrogacy? I equate it to being involved in a play: for weeks or months you rehearse, you submerge yourself in a role, as the time for opening night nears your life tends to become more and more focused on this event, and then you have that wonderful shining moment on the stage, everything goes off wonderfully, the audience loves it, you couldn’t have been better. And. Then. It’s. Over. With a surrogacy, you’ve dedicated at the very least nearly a year to helping someone else be a parent when the delivery comes. And with very few exceptions, I’ve always heard the moment of seeing the IPs with their new child as being the highest high a surrogate can experience. But after that, where is there to go but down?Add that to the totally normal hormonal mood fluctuations following any birth and you have a woman ready to cry.

Those who’ve described the downtime most vividly often talk of feeling totally elated one moment and devastated shortly after because their part in this is done. It’s not the baby they miss - that is something everyone is emphatic about because of common perception - it’s either the surrogacy itself or the IPs or the “specialness” of being pregnant, or simply the hormones going for a joy ride. And it’s completely normal, if not often discussed.

I think it’s important that surrogates know this so that when the time comes, they know they’re not the only surrogate who’s ever cried when the baby left the hospital, or when they said goodbye to their IPs, or alone at night afraid to let anyone see them.

I also think it’s essential for IPs to be aware of this, because as almost any parent can tell you, it’s very easy to become totally myopic when you bring home that child for the first time. Besides the rigors of adjusting to an infant’s schedule, the whole process of adjusting to being a family leaves little energy or attention to other details. For IPs who’ve been trying to years to have a child then turn to surrogacy - or even just those who came to surrogacy initially as a way to conceive - the end of the surrogacy is not an end at all, but merely the beginning of their dreams.

(disclaimer, the following doesn’t apply to me as my IF is worlds most empathetic, but I thought it was good info for my Google readers)

As natural as that is, the IPs should remember this is the end of the surrogate’s role and dream. As easy as it is to get swept away in the day-to-day minute-to-minute minutiae of new parenthood, it is important to remember the person who brought you to this point of obsession! Many IPs speak of wanting to make a “clean break” and simply be a new family, and worry that keeping the surrogate involved in their lives will be more difficult for everyone. (Of course, the amount of contact after the birth one desires differs greatly from case to case - and is something everyone should discuss early and often.) But of the surrogates I know who had the easiest return to being “a woman who once was a surrogate” versus being “a former surrogate who wonders exactly how XXX is doing” were those who had some input from the IPs as they made the adjustment to being a family, who were allowed some time to say goodbye to the baby they carried in the hospital (often in private - something that scares a lot of IPs, unfortunately), and who felt appreciated for their role in making their IPs family a reality. It’s this bit of extra hand-holding that actually often turns out to be a big source of closure……………………………

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I’ve played out the end of this surrogacy journey over and over in my head. I planned and prepared very early on to be sad when it was done, and got ripped a new one on a certain surrogacy “support” site for stating that expectation out loud. How dare I? It seemed that the upset was not over that I would be sad, but that I was saying out loud that I expected it. I expect to be sad. There, I said it. I expect to miss being pregnant, miss caring for the baby, miss bein that “important person” to someone else. Selfish? Yes. And I expect to miss it. I never had PPD with my childrens’ pregnancies, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I got a touch of it with this one. And you know what? That’s OK. It’s all part of the journey.

For me ( and only me; disclaimer disclaimer, etc) I would have to be a really unfeeling and shallow person to be able to just hand those new parents their new baby and go on with my life as if nothing had happened. Also, I fully intend to “bond” with these babies ( to an extent). They will know they are loved from the very first moment they are able to feel it. That safe secure feeling of comfort. Why? Because I love them. I can’t emotionally detach myself from these babies, and I really feel like it would be doing them a huge disservice to attempt to do so. They should feel safe, loved, while they are with me. I owe them that. And while the love I feel for them isn’t the same as the love I feel for my children, it is still there. I can’t turn it off. It is the same love I feel for my friends’ children, for my nieces and nephews. It isn’t “this has to be mine” love, but rather “I love that this is yours” love. Does that make even a little bit of sense?

This does NOT mean that I will regret handing them to daddy. On the contrary, handing them to Daddy is the reason I’m doing this! This does NOT mean that I require to be this constant involved person in their lives ( as if that were even possible). It means that I carried them. That I love them. That they changed my life forever and I will never forget them. And when we part for the first time ever, I expect to be sad. Not regretful, but sad.

Is it wrong to expect that? I feel almost safe expecting up front for things to be less then “sunshine and rainbows” for those first few weeks. It can’t sneak up on me and catch me with my guard down. That it would be naive to think anything otherwise. But I’ve had so many “you’ll regret this”  and “you’re making a mistake, we know you too well” ( insert my derisive snort here)  barbs tossed at me that i almost feel like I’ll have to hide my sadness; Sadness that is normal! And healthy! And expected! I just hope with the time comes that I’m wrong about that assumption; that I’m “allowed” to feel sad without any judgment following.

What do you think?

 

A Small Burst of Steam

Just a few days ago the insurance coverage purchased for this pregnancy at a premium price notified us that as of the 26th of June there were no longer any providers or hospitals in our area still in contract with them.

P-daddy paid a LOT for this insurance. More then some people make in a year. And now? No one here will take it. Or they will take it, but are not a “preferred provider” so the insurance only pays out a small portion.

This, quite understandably, concerns us. But the insurance rep and our agency rep who refuse to give us any answers, promise call backs but don’t follow through, and string us along? Make us angry.  OK, well it makes ME angry. I assume anger on the part of P-Daddy.

“Oh, we’ll help her find another provider!” Yet oddly, according to their provider search website, there isn’t one. In all of Oregon.

More to follow. Bottom line, things are quite the clusterfark right now, and we really don’t know what to do about it. He’s already purchased the coverage; it is his. He purchased it for more then the normal care and delivery bills will be ( a “just in case/emergency”) policy.  And now? It seems to be somewhat useless.

Some More to Share

And all’s well!! Had an OB appointment this morning ( I get to go every three weeks rather then four because of our extra passenger) and D&G are looking great!! Yes,  Dolce & Gabbana are the official twin references we’re gonna use. Why? Because I said so. Plus I wanna own and wear a D&G t-shirt and this gives me a great excuse to do so! And if you’d ever met their father you’d totally understand. This is a man who I personally watched spend more then $200 on a pair of pants ( with HOLES in them!) just because they made his butt look fabulous. And they really did, but I digress….

Dolce ( baby on the right, A) is ever so slightly to the rear so we had a tough time nailing down a heartbeat. We could hear it, but it was pretty muffled by my own booming sound, so we just listened to it in the background, all happy and regular, before moving on to Gabbana ( baby on the left, B). We found him right away, a nice regular strong little pitter patter. My uterus is measuring nicely, if a tiny bit small although it’s really early to be making that kind of statement, I think. I’ve put on a total of 4 pounds so far which is right along where I should be, although I’m just carrying a four pound food baby right now.

The BUN scan has been rescheduled for July 7th. I was going to go in today, but with the babies measuring ever so slightly tiny at the last ultrasound I felt it best to re-schedule to a time frame when their little bodies would be well within the size/age requirement, rather then on the fringes, so that we could get a more accurate result. Actually that is kind of a joke. This scan, while neat, has a high false “positive” rate, and that is with singletons! The percentage gets even higher with multiples. But we WILL be able to see all of the bits and pieces, make sure in detail that all things are present ( and I do mean ALL things. Although I am forbidden to look below the belt as that surprise is saved for the 20 week scan with Daddy, party pooper), and get a ballpark idea of our risks for certain issues, which is good.

So that’s the body update! More to share, but I need to gather my thoughts. One issue? Insurance and how those con-men were brilliant to have come up with that load-of-pucky idea to force piles of money out of unsuspecting people. Not ~quite~ fraud, but damn close!

And Again with the Pictures!

Today was the dreaded 10 week ultrasound. I planned the appointment early ( 7am) to make sure that if I DID need a husband at home the rest of the day, he had time to arrange that.  Early so that if P-Daddy did need to call in some support, it wasn’t in the middle of the night.

Thank god neither of us needed it.

The babies are looking absolutely beautiful! Baby A ( right) had a 142 heartrate, while B was the fast one this time at 181. A likes to wiggle her legs and feet, while B likes to sit frog-legged and mess with his face. So awesome to see these little ones; alive, healthy, and wiggling around like mad. It was good to see. Reassuring. Both are measuring smallish at 9 weeks 2 days, but that’s fine and within a normal range so no worries there.

I definitely am pregnant. My uterus is having to grow faster then it was designed to because of the two-vs-one stuff, so while I’m not “showing” this early in the game ( of course) I’m definitely very achy and heavy feeling. Having a full bladder actually hurts. Don’t get me wrong, I already have some pants I need to rubberband, but it’s more because I’ve not been allowed to go to the gym and my innards are squashed up by the ol’ ute. Not so much a baby bump. Nausea; getting better. I’m at this horrible place where I am SUPER nauseous if I have a full tummy.. and SUPER nauseous if I have an empty one. So I find myself eating ALL DAY to keep the nausea at bay; a bite here and a bite there. While that’s good in some areas ( I’m supposed to eat close to 160 grams of protein a day!) it’s not so good in others. Namely the fluffy pants area. And flabby arms, and double chin….

Today I was released from my RE and given into the care of my OB, officially. Thank GAWD. My OB has given me thumbs up to continue a modified workout program. How ironic; as soon as I get into a good routine and actually start to enjoy working out, I’m forbidden to do so. It’s been a long 10 weeks. I’m hoping to quickly get back into the swing of things and keep my body healthy and strong for this pregnancy. I need to eat a lot to grow these healthy babies, but I want to keep my body healthy as well and not gain a ton of unnecessary weight. It’s hard to do because I’m tired pretty much all the time. Workout time was when husband came home from work at 11pm. I’d toodle off to the gym and get a good hour at least in 3 to 4 times a week. Now by 9pm I’m half passed out in bed with a book or movie ( but not a good movie; a comfortable and well worn movie I can fall asleep watching) and by 11 I’m usually somewhat comatose. I’m going to have to figure something out, as 11pm is still the best time for me to get to the gym.. so how to be awake then is what I’m going to have to figure out.

I’ve decided the doom-and-gloom phase of this pregnancy just has to be over. It’s too depressing, so these babies are here to stay. No negative “what if” thoughts.  No worrisome evenings. Because of that, I can’t just referr to them as “a” and “b”. It’s too.. impersonal. I need some fun nick-names. Ideas? Shoot them over! Here are a few I’ve come up with:

Abercrombie & Fitch
Hollywood & Vine
Kit & Kaboodle
Mai & Tai
Peanut & Jelly
Sleepy & Bashful

The hard part is they both need to be gender neutral. We won’t know who we’ve got here for another several weeks and I’d hate to be calling a little boy “buttercup” that whole time. So any ideas? Share!!

Next week we have another OB appointment and the BUN test.. Whooo doggy!

 

Oh, Yah, Right….

Well my 8 week appointments have come and gone, and we are now on the cusp of week number 9. Our ultrasound on Wednesday showed two healthy little babies wiggling around with happy little heart rates of 171 ( on the left, I’m guessing girl) and 154 ( on the right, I’m guessing boy).

It was definitely reassuring to see them still going strong in there, despite the daily reassurance of nausea I’m currently living with. Oh the nausea. No actual throwing up, thank gawd, but some definite urges to barf pretty much from sunup to sundown. I have been gobbling up my Preggy Pops like no ones business. I’m NOT complaining. But dang, y’all! And the TIRED. I could just sleep all day. I have never been tired like this, and it’s actually had the biggest effect overall. Lucky for me, my darling husband lets me sleep in most morning and he gets up with the kids. Big smooch to the husband!

On Thursday I had my first appointment with my regular OB. I was ever so slightly hesitant to use him when I first became pregnant last time, but his behavior when we lost that baby and his subsequent behavior has completely blind-sided me with it’s awesomness, so I am really pulling for him this time around. He was great on Thursday, giving me yet another ultrasound even though it was unnecessary just so that he could thoroughly explain to me all that he was seeing, something my RE’s office doesn’t to. From them all I get is “the babies aren’t dead, keep taking your meds as scheduled” and that’s it. While I understand that that message conveys the most important piece of information, it would be nice if they’d treat me a little more like the woman hosting and caring for these babies for the next 30 weeks and less like the womb they are working with, here only for the paycheck. My OB, on the other hand, is awesome. I had a great and relaxing and looooong visit with him and we discussed everything, from pregnancy woes to future hopes to delivery options and breastfeeding. My town is tiny, and I will only be able to deliver here, at my preferred hospital, if I make it past the 36 week mark as they are not equipped with a NICU. If I have to deliver before 36 weeks, I’ll go to a neighboring city. I do NOT want to do that, for several reasons. One, I’ll more then likely be discharged way before the babies will. That means visiting them will be more difficult as it will be a trip to the big town ( read: time consuming and money consuming not to mention more difficult to arrange childcare for my two for the visits), which means breastfeeding or pumping for them those first few important days will be more difficult. That hospital also has the normal “big hospital” practice of laboring in one room, and recovering in another. In their case, 2 floors up. Because there is a room change, there is the possibility that the babies, if not needed in the NICU, would be in a room separate from me with their daddy. That thought scares the crap out of me. I’m counting on those few days to say my final goodbye’s. To nurse and give that final gift, to very thoroughly close the door to my part of their lives so that I feel like it was a complete journey. I just really want that. If we are moved I might not get it as legally I have no tie to these babies. I know P-Daddy is incredibly empathetic to the closure needed by a surrogate during that time, and I know he’ll do whatever necessary to facilitate that, but I’m scared that in the “heat of the moment”…… well he’ll be a new daddy! And he’ll have his support system there! I can totally see how it would be easy to be overlooked at that moment… Anyway, crossing my legs till at least 36 weeks, because these babies need to be born here!

Speaking of being born; I will be doing everything, and I mean everything, to have a vaginal delivery. My OB is on board with this. That is just awesome. I know of several OB offices that deliver twins via Cesarean as a standard practice, not really giving a vaginal delivery an option. I also know of several OB’s that won’t deliver a breech baby vaginally, will force a c-section. Not my OB! I am so thankful to have him so thoroughly on my side.

Anyway, that’s the update! Up one pound, still totally queezy, still completely pregnant! I have another ultrasound at 10 weeks, an OB appointment at 11 weeks, and a BUN test ( Biochemistry, Ultrasound, Nuchal translucency) shortly after. Woo hoo to the THREE hour estimated vaginal ultrasound!!.

 

Nausea = Justified

It was with more then a little nervous assertion that I walked into the ultrasound clinic this morning. A week full of Google searches had kind of convinced me that I was carrying a twin Molar pregnancy. Last week? Two smallish and empty sacs. A molar pregnancy would explain the empty as well as the nausea.

So imagine my surprise when the ultrasound tech almost instantly located the following:

That would be two babies. Two babies, with beautifully beating hearts. As in, alive. Present and accounted for. Measuring right where they should at 6 weeks 5 days, with lovely little heartbeats at 114 and 123 beats per minute, well over the desired 100+ beats.

As of today, I’m pregnant. Pregnant with two little Norwegian/Latino babies who are destined to break hearts the world over with their incredible beauty and wit.

I have yet another scan NEXT week, and one again 2 weeks after that at 10 weeks pregnant. Heartbeats each time, okay? That would be just super!

Coming up; nausea, and how cat farts don’t help one little bit.

The Curse of the No-See-Ums

Bladder bursting, I went into my ultrasound appointment this morning with more then a little nervous twitching. My tech was very nice, if somewhat aloof. After stripping my better half ( No. “M” wasn’t there, MY better half.) and settling on that oh-so-comfy table, she got to work. Kidneys? All present and accounted for! Bladder? PRESENT! (”do you need to go empty your bladder some??!”). Hmmm….. fetal sack, yes ..yolk…..Yes.

And Yes again.

Two baby beginnings? Check.

What we didn’t see? Heartbeats.

Each sack is measuring a few days early. 5 weeks 1 day and 5 weeks 3 days. Today I am 5 weeks 6 days pregnant. It is a notable difference this early on, especially when we have a minute of conception so do know exactly how “old” this pregnancy is. Conclusive? Far from it. It isn’t unheard of for babies to measure differently in the beginning. Ours just do so against our exacting calculations. Not to worry, things look great for this stage of pregnancy ( assuming the pregnancy is 2-3 days younger then we know it to be). My RE isn’t worried, but has scheduled me for another ultrasound next week so that we can SEE those little pittering hearts.

The tech and I both think we saw them; the tiniest little flicker on the edge of the bean shaped black bubble that is the fetal sack. There was a flicker. It was there. In both of them. But the flicker was just too small to say for sure that YES, that is a heartbeat. So we’ll wait yet another week.

You must know that this is killing me. I needed heartbeats today. I just…. did. And while I know that they probably are there, waiting yet another week to find out is just  mean.

But I promise to forgive them if they are pitter-pattering next week!

A Case Full of Baskets.

Nerves about tomorrow, an overload of estrogen, nausea, fatigue and a computer on the fritz made today quite aJeckyl and Hyde kind of day.

Tomorrow I’m hoping for a heartbeat or two. In the past, I’ve taken that little detail for granted and learned the hard way that something as simple and as complicated as a heartbeat isn’t a guarantee. I’m getting teased about the possibility of carrying two, but I just can’t seem to convey that I could be carrying one or twenty-three in there… but is there a heartbeat? Because bottom line, that’s all I want. A good strong heartbeat. I’ll get excited about one or two when that first hurdle is past, although I have a feeling I’ll never really get over that need to reassure myself with a heartbeat.

Injections have been going rather well this time! I’ve even gone hard core many a time and just jabbed myself while brushing my teeth, no heat-pack to be seen. Warming the oil and a nice brisk injection rub have prevented most lumps so far, and the discomfort is probably half this time. Used to it? Or an arse of steel that can’t be bothered to notice. Your call.

In the last three or four days I’ve begun a relationship with my stomach that I welcome only slightly. If it’s morning sickness? Welcome! Nice to have you here! Stick around for a bit, will you? If it’s flu? Danm it! I JUST got over a 3 week coughing spree. No thanks. I’ve prepared myself for the occasional queasy moment by getting a pile of Preggy Pops the second I got that double line. The good news? They work! The sour ones are the BEST! The bad news? They taste really good. Like the perfect tart candy. So I eat them more then I should, and those puppies aren’t cheap! Must. Restrain. Self.

I can’t seem to make myself sleep any time before 1am. Just can’t do it. The result? Grumpy asshole come the next day. Lucky for me, husband has been really on the ball in the mornings and several times has let me sleep in quite a bit, wrestling the kids himself. YAY me! But I do need to get that under control somehow.

My computer is dying on me. Husband needs a good full day to mess with it to clean it out as it seems to be full of cotton candy, it’s so useful right now. Till then I’m making due on his temperamental desktop and I gotta say, If I ever lost Internet connection long term I might well go insane. The few hours trapped in my home today with no way to contact the outside world via the net had me in tears. Literally.

But that’s nothing new. I am the world’s biggest arse rag these days. Today I ripped my best friend a new anus over at topic we have already peacefully agreed to disagree on. Then my brother called and I dumped on him for a good hour and a half. I talk to the kid twice a year. Wonder why? I’m blaming it on the massive hormones that are also causing the queasiness ( gawd, it better not be the flu!) and constipation. Oh yah. did I mention that one?

Anyway. I’m looking forward to tomorrow, where I will see a healthy little heartbeat or two. I. Will. See. And hopefully my lovely husband can take the few hours that I’m gone and do something to fix my computer. But just in case he doesn’t? That blood curdling scream you hear? That’s me. I’ve lost my connection but I’ve got an update for you.

Ha ha!..ha..ha..uh…

So. Had my quantitative HCG blood work done this morning. An easy fast poke in the elbow-pit. We got the results back pretty quickly considering how slooooooow this lab has been for me in the past. P-Daddy was pretty anxious about the number being, you know, present, so I was pretty anxious to have a number to pass on to him!

Today is 10dp5dt. That is the standard time frame my RE likes to use for a first HCG. They like the number to be over 100. If the number is over 100 at this point they consider it a healthy pregnancy and there is no need to re-test in 48 hours to make sure that number is doubling. Last time, we were at 239. That was a great number on a perfectly normal and healthy pregnancy ( as far as we could see, anyway).

Today’s number?

580. Yes, five hundred and eighty. That would be almost exactly DOUBLE what our singleton pregnancy with these same genetics produced. Double. More then one. Like, two.

Ha Ha…………………….. huh.

OK! Well, we have a 6 week ultrasound scheduled for May 21st and we’ll know for sure then. We could just have a high HCG producing baby here! Or, twins naturally reduce to a singleton all the time early on in the game, which we definitely are. Or I have two wonderful and healthy little ones snuggled in safe and sound, and I get to nurture and care for them for the next 36 or so weeks before they go home with their ecstatic Daddy.

Really, all of those options are wonderful and all in all, I’m thrilled with today’s number.

Folks, I’m pregnant. And I am determined to remain so for at LEAST the next 30 weeks.

I’ll worry about carrying two and delivering two when that becomes an issue. Right now, I’ve got to go get a snack.

I am growing a family, after all.

Where I Throw Up A Little Bit In My Mouth, Then Swallow It and Grin.

Ahem…

code: 4dp5dt

Translated? Four days past the transfer of a 5 day embryo ( blast). ( in our case…. two…)

9am:

 ( insert nervous laugh here)

Wow, that’s a pretty early positive! Ha ha…………. 

8am this morning, 5dp5dt….

 Huh……… one of the least sensitive tests…. positive…. way early……………

:ahem: So, um, Beta is on the 8th.

I’m thinking…. we’re pregnant!