Baking Someone Else's Baby

The Final Birth

2014-04-11T21:35:00.002-05:00

**Time gets funny when you're having a baby, whether or not things are scheduled, I think. So forgive me my vagueness on pretty much everything time related.**

Because of worsening pre-eclampsia after spending about 50 hours in the hospital, the OB on call with my midwife practice, Dr. Cardone scheduled my cesarean for 9 p.m. on Thursday, April 3, 2014.

A little while before the procedure, the anesthesiologist came in and chatted with me about her end of the procedure. It was determined I'd receive a spinal/epidural combination, with a 24-hour lasting infusion of some morphine-based drug added to the catheter before its removal immediately after the surgery. I fretted about how badly I got the chills after Quentin's birth, and she assured me there'd be warm blankets on hand. Sometime close to 9, I was wheeled into the OR in a chair, with Luke following most of the way. He wasn't allowed in the room for my prep, which turned out to be just as well. He looks good in a hairnet thought, right?

The thing that struck me, throughout this surgery process, was how clear it all was. Even though Quentin's birth was a scheduled cesarean, I don't (and never did) remember most of the prep, or much of the surgery itself. I do know that with his birth, my bp dropped pretty low at some point and made me woozy, which could be part of why my memory is fuzzy. The anesthesiologist watched me very carefully after hearing that information, and knowing that a drop would look different for a pre-eclamptic. But that didn't become an issue during this surgery, horray.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

The nurses wheeled me into a cold, bright room packed with people - packed with women, which was interesting to note (though the assisting OB who came in later was male) - and equipment. I had been a midwife patient right up until I landed in the hospital, so one of the women was the midwife on call from my practice, Lee. I was cautioned not to touch anything sterile, and I climbed up onto the operating table to get my anesthesia. I got a lovely pillow to hug, and Lee stood in front of me, providing an extra layer of physical and moral support for which I was ridiculously grateful.

I was especially grateful by the second of the three (or was it four?) tries it took to get my spinal/epidural placed properly. That was easily the worst part of the whole surgery. Of course I had gotten a local anesthetic first to numb my back, but the experience of having the epidural placed was extremely uncomfortable anyway (and took so long that the local had to be repeated before it was over). FINALLY, after several games of "what do you feel, and where?" in which I described sensations and pain as dull or sharp, left or right, prickling or shooting, it was over. I had gotten the chance to practice my labor breathing techniques after all! I also mentioned to Lee that I realized why they kept the OR so cold, since at that point I was sweating.

I was laid down on my back on the table, my now warm and tingling legs brought into a "frog" position, and any shred of dignity I may have had left quietly seeped through the cracks in the table beneath me. My arms were stretched out Jesus-style, and I got an oxygen monitor to keep my IV company on my right hand (index finger), and a blood pressure cuff was wrapped around my left arm. I had a sudden moment of terror that the spinal would fail and I would feel the scalpel as the doctors cut into my abdomen. Luckily, just then the anesthesiologist (I wish I could remember her name!) verified my numbness by poking me on the shoulder (non-anesthetized) with some sort of pin-like object, then proceeded to poke from my legs up the side of my body and asked me to tell her when I could feel it the same way as it had felt in my shoulder. Horray, I was numb from the ribs down!

Finally, FINALLY I was prepped, the operating drape was up, another OB came in to assist, Luke was allowed to come in to sit by my head and hold my hand, and Lee took my cell phone to take pictures of the baby when he arrived (before I'd been wheeled into the OR, I changed Lee's life by showing her how to instantly access the iPhone camera without having to unlock the phone first).

I was surprised how lighthearted everything felt at that point. I was confident that the baby was going to be fine, and I was feeling good about the surgery - The limbo I hate so much, the sense of not knowing what was going to happen or when, was over, as (I hoped) was the concern over the functionality of my major organs. My midwife and anesthesiologist joked with each other about how they were missing the newest episode of Scandal in order to be in surgery with me. I laughed and told them that I was glad not to be inconveniencing their evening plans, and they assured me that they had DVRs, so it was ok. The feeling of cheerfulness seemed so strange in that cold and sterile room, but I was glad for it.

Considering how long prepping me for the surgery took, the c-section itself couldn't have taken very long, but I felt like the doctors were cutting and tugging on me forever. And not very gingerly. I was almost hyper-aware of all of the sounds and sensations of the surgery, of Luke holding my hand and smiling at me, of waiting, waiting to hear that the baby had arrived. (Click the pictures for bigger versions)

Finally, he cried. HE CRIED! At 33 weeks, there is definite concern about lung function in a preemie, so to hear his cry was such a relief to me. The doctor said his cord had a true knot, just like my Jude's had had. I wasn't at all surprised - this baby was majorly acrobatic inside of me for months. They held him up over the drape quickly, and OH how he was tiny. A few more pictures were taken as he was cleaned off, weighed and measured. Meanwhile, the doctors kept working on me. I only felt a little bit like a piece of meat at that point, with everyone's attention on the baby and on my midsection as something separate from myself. But I was so happy to hear that the baby looked great, I couldn't be anything but excited.

Once he was cleaned up, he was wrapped in a blanket and they brought him over to me for a quick look and a picture before they wheeled him off to the NICU.

Little Jude William was born April 3, 2014, at 9:39 p.m. CDT, as perfect as a 33-weeker could be. He weighed in at 4 lbs 7 oz and a solid 16.5" long. His APGARS were 8 and 9 which amazed me!

I was in surgery quite a little while longer as the doctors finished up. I was so glad that Luke was there with me - last time I had a cesarean was with Quentin, and Luke had gone along when the nurses took Q away. This time he was able to stay, keeping me company through the not-exciting part, while I was put back together. We listened faintly to chatter about suction and irrigation, and eventually, I was all stitched back together. I got some morphine in my spinal, and then the epidural catheter was removed. A bunch of nurses came to slide me over from the OR table to a gurney - Oh, I must have been wrong about having no dignity left, because I'm pretty sure I lost a little more just there.

In recovery, my blood pressure was still on the high side, though my heart rate was down in the high 40s, low 50s. The nurses commented that my heart rate had been fairly low throughout my stay, so they weren't particularly concerned about it being so low - they actually recalibrated the warning on the monitor so it wouldn't go off. That recovery room seemed more like a storage cupboard with nurses than anything else, and I was once again grateful not to be alone, that Luke was sitting with me, just being present. I am so grateful for his support through all of those moments that could have been very cold and lonely. I didn't get the shakes this time, and actually felt pretty good throughout. Probably, that was the morphine working. :) Luke did run off for a few minutes and sent me the picture on the bottom right, which also helped the recovery process. :)

The next day and a half was much less fun. I had tubes putting things into me and taking things out of me (IV, catheter, breast pump) and squeezing and squishing me in various places (blood pressure cuff, compression boots, breast pump). I got put on a magnesium drip to make sure I didn't end up with seizures from my high blood pressure - I had been under the impression that delivery was the solution to the problem, but apparently it doesn't work right away, and my blood pressure stayed a bit high afterward. I was grateful to be closely looked after, but once the first morning was over, I was miserable until the magnesium drop was removed from my IV. I also couldn't get much in the way of pain meds until the morphine wore off completely, so my headache (which outstripped any postsurgery pain I was experiencing) just got worse as it waned. I was allowed only ice chips to eat (I spent almost two full days with nothing but ice chips and IV fluids going into me!).

Once I was through with the magnesium drip, though, it was amazing to me how fast I felt better. Everyone was impressed with my recovery each time they came to check on me, and everything I heard about the baby's progress was good. Once the mag was turned off, I eventually got some real food in my body, and some Percocet, and I was able to feel a tiny shred of post-birth high. I had a couple of lovely visits from friends, and I convinced the doc to let me go home on Sunday, 5 days after being admitted, and 60 hours after my c-section.

Dave, me, and Luke (Jimmy was feeding Jude) right before I was wheeled out of the hospital.

Pre-Eclampsia, Pre-Birth

2014-04-06T02:13:00.000-05:00

I have been terrible about updating the blog during this round of surrogacy, I know. I'm not sure why it's been harder this time to keep you updated about everything going on. Let me catch you up.

A few weeks ago, my midwives noticed my blood pressures creeping up and sent me for some in-hospital monitoring and tests to be sure everything was ok. It was ok, for the most part. I was sent home, told to "take it easy," and self-monitor my blood pressures. I had an ultrasound to check growth (bonus picture!) and nonstress tests once a week.

But on Sunday, March 30, I found myself feeling really off while at church with the family, even though I wasn't doing anything strenuous. When I got home that day, my pressures were pretty high, so I stayed in bed the rest of the afternoon. I had a midwife appointment on Tuesday, and figured we'd see then what was what. As it turned out, "what" wasn't very good. My blood pressure was quite high in the office, and my urine dip showed lots of protein. I was sent back to the hospital that day, Tuesday, April 1 (no joke!) - and Patty, my midwife, told me not to expect to leave again without having delivered the baby (I was 32 weeks, 5 days at that point).

I spent a couple of boring days in the hospital being watched carefully for worsening symptoms. At this point, I'd been given a definitive, official pre-eclampsia diagnosis, but everyone wanted to wait as long as possible to actually deliver the baby. I was given a betamethasone (steroid) shot to help the baby's lungs prepare for breathing air instead of amniotic fluid (something that doesn't normally happen until later in pregnancy!), then another shot 24 hours later. The docs called the point 24 hours after that second shot the "sweet spot" of effectiveness, but it was still a matter of balancing the risks (to the baby) of delivering the baby with the risks (to me) of not delivering him.

On Thursday, my urinary protein levels were quite high (6+ grams), my blood pressures were still creeping up, and both steroid shots had had a chance to take effect. The OB on call (my midwife office works in tandem with an OB practice for just such complicated cases as this) decided she was uncomfortable with the lowered kidney function (in me) indicated by those results, and so enough was enough. I was put on the schedule to be delivered via c-section that night (my first baby was a c-section and even though I had two successful vbacs - Jude and Danika - , the cumulative circumstances surrounding this delivery made everyone more comfortable repeating the surgery vs a trial of labor). Luckily, by this point, we'd had enough warning for Jimmy and Dave to be on their way, and they arrived a couple of hours before the surgery was scheduled.

Next, the newest birth story!

©2014 All Rights Reserved

21 week and Ultrasound update

2014-01-09T19:32:00.000-06:00

I'm 21 weeks pregnant today!

Baby has been an acrobatic little wiggle-worm these past couple of weeks. It's just getting to the point where the movements can be felt from the outside but only barely... Soon!

Today was the Big Ultrasound/Anatomy Scan. The guys flew out for the afternoon, which was awesome, even though we didn't get to spend as much time together as I'd have liked. My littles came as well, and they got to come in and see the ultrasound. Jude was fairly underwhelmed but Quentin was fascinated! So were Jimmy & Dave. :)

Everything is looking great. Baby is growing right on schedule. We got to see the heart beating in super high frequency closeup - all four chambers lub-dubbing just perfectly. Baby's spine is long and gorgeous, umbilical cord connected just so, and everything is perfect, right down to the toes.

One of the most fun parts of the ultrasound was, of course, the reveal of the baby's sex. Even though I know better than most people how sex ≠ gender, I personally appreciated the opportunity for verification or dispensation of my hunch as to the baby's sex.

See, I've given birth so far to two boys and a girl, and the latter pregnancy (my first surrogacy) was SO much different from the first two. I was super hormonal, especially late in the game; I had terrible headaches for most of the first two trimesters; I developed gestational diabetes, which I had never done before. I thought maybe I was just getting old. But this time around, once I got past the early exhaustion, I've felt pretty amazing. Even-keeled, physically well. So I was convinced, this one was also a boy! I've been calling the baby "he" for weeks now, to the amusement of Dave & Jimmy.

But, as it turns out, my intuition is pretty good! This little banana (my pregnancy app says that's about how big he is right now, haha!) was not shy about displaying his package for us. We didn't get a printout of the sex shot (that's always seemed a little weird to me, anyway - "here's a picture of my baby's penis!" but the tech turned the image blue to make it fun (and for better contrast, she says).

Of course, Jimmy and Dave are over the moon. Those first pictures of your baby that LOOK like a baby instead of a gummy bear, are so amazing. And the images were great. They had to rush back to the airport, but we snuck in one 3-person selfie before they took off. :)

They'll probably come back once more before the birth, for a hospital tour. Hopefully we can make a real day of it - it's always fabulous to see them! I also had a little belated Christmas gift for them (I actually bought it months ago but wanted to see them open it).

I've got another appointment on 1/17, and a GD test sometime in the next few weeks. I'm going to put my fingers in my ears and "LALALA" over the sound of the doctor saying that the "glassy" quality of the images is an indication that I'll probably develop it again. Sigh. She did acknowledge that I'm already doing everything I can to prevent it, but that sometimes it's just genetics. We shall see!

For now, I'm going to enjoy the next few weeks and look forward to baby's movements getting more obvious from the outside (and hopefully hearing about the naming process)!

Ta!

©2014 All Rights Reserved

Twelve Weeks

2013-11-07T14:28:00.002-06:00

Woo-Hoo! I made it to the official End of the Shots of Doom!! *dance party* No more intramuscular progesterone shots, no more progesterone suppositories, no more pills (except a prenatal, of course). This is a Big Deal - I'm taking bets on how long this huge knot from one of last week's shots will last now that I'm all finished.

I was released from the RE's care to my midwife two weeks ago. At the end of this week, I'll officially be in the second trimester (we got a nice email from the RE yesterday congratulating us and letting us know he's there if we have questions - wow!). I had recently been thinking I would never hit the resurgence of energy that's supposed to happen around this point in pregnancy - I just literally could not imagine not being exhausted (although the exhaustion did let up a little after I lost twin A). But! Just the past few days, I've started to feel better. It's like clockwork. :) I actually *gasp* did some housework today!! Amazing.

I've been taking "belly shots" every week, but nothing is changing much, and I'm just full of my usual fluff. Mostly I'm taking them for me, so that when I feel like I look huge but not really pregnant, I can look back at these pics and see that yes, pregnancy really is to blame for the belly. Besides last week (Halloween), this is the first week that my picture included a fully dressed, hair-done, bejeweleried (?!) ensemble. Just because I felt up to it. I won't share the belly shot with you, but I will prove that I went all-out this morning.

Hair done! With a blowdryer! And Hairspray! Jewelry!!

Actual clothing! JEANS! (my fat jeans, but so what)

My next midwife appointment is Nov. 22 (Quentin's birthday!), I'll be 14 weeks and hopefully we can hear the heartbeat via doppler at that point, and I'll be able to schedule my anatomy scan (the Big Ultrasound - the guys will fly out for that!). That's all for now!

©2013 All Rights Reserved

Vanishing Twin

2013-10-24T14:54:00.002-05:00

Three weeks ago, I had my first ultrasound of this pregnancy, at 7 weeks. This was a Big Deal, when we'd get to confirm the pregnancy via heartbeat, and also find out how many of the embryos implanted and started to grow. We saw two lovely embryos growing, with "A" being the smaller, measuring 6 weeks 1 day with a heartbeat of 107, and "B" the larger, measuring 6 weeks 4 days, and a heartbeat of 121.

It's not unusual for twins to measure slightly different, with one smaller than the other. But since "A" had a pretty low heart rate, the ultrasound tech suggested I ask my doctor to schedule a follow-up ultrasound, so we could have a better idea of how well both embryos were growing.

That ultrasound happened just one week later, at 8 weeks. At this point, "A" was measuring only 6 weeks 5 days (only 4 days growth in one week), with a heart rate of 122, and "B" was measuring 7 weeks 6 days, with a heart rate of 171. My doctor's nurses seemed fairly unconcerned (they never even gave my IFs a hint that anything *could* be wrong), but I was not feeling good about that difference in size.

Today, at 10 weeks, I had my third and final ultrasound under my RE's care. Sadly, the little one had stopped growing at a measurement of 8 weeks (we can't really know *when* since "A" was always measuring behind), and had no heartbeat today. We are all saddened by this news, of course, but I'm glad we were able to prepare for it ahead of time. I'm also so grateful for Dave's very zen outlook on life, and his feeling that it was just not meant to be. It's contagious.

The silver lining to this tough news is that baby "B" is growing perfectly, 44mm long, measuring 10 weeks 3 days today (I am exactly 10 weeks pregnant), and with a strong heart beat of 171 beats per minute.

I have my first appointment with my midwife's office on Monday, and get to start weaning off of my medication today. In two weeks, I'll just be a regular old pregnant lady (baking someone else's baby).

I think he looks a little like Casper the friendly ghost. :)

Betas

2013-09-19T13:53:00.000-05:00

I know you guys have been waiting to hear the details of my beta blood test results. For future reference, the little things that I think need updating but don't necessarily warrant an entire post to themselves I've been updating on the Pregnancy Progress page. You can continue to monitor that obsessively, if you like. :)

I am FIVE weeks pregnant today...

I've had three beta tests now, with results as follows:
09/12/13 - Beta 202! I'M OFFICIALLY KNOCKED UP!
09/16/13 - 2nd Beta 710 (doubling time=53.5 hours)
09/19/13 - 3rd Beta 2451 (doubling time = 40.28 hours from 2nd beta, 46.93 from 1st beta)

Now, as any experienced IVFer will tell you, Beta numbers really don't tell you anything about the number of embryos that "stuck" from the transfer. Super high numbers can pretty reliably indicate twins, but even that is sketchy. That said, every IVFer I've ever known likes to speculate about what beta numbers mean for quantity of potential babies, because you get them way before your first scans happen.

So, with that in mind, one site I've used to play around has this to say about betas and single/twin pregnancies:

As you can seem, my numbers fall smack in the average range (by mode) for singletons and are reeeeeealy close to that same average/mode range for twins. Darn it, kids! Hard to say.

As for symptoms, I've got night-sickness, which is not unusual in general but different for me - I've always had morning sickness in the past, but now I just wake up ravenous. I've got acid reflux/heartburn which suuuuuuuucks and I usually don't get until third trimester. Then your usual breast tenderness, mild cramps off and on. Nothing terribly definitive there, either, but at least it reminds me I'm pregnant. ;)

My ultrasound is scheduled for October 3, and Dave and Jimmy are planning to fly out for it, so we can all be together for the big question (and to hear the heartbeat/s for the first time!). The next two weeks will be crawling by!

Oh, and I've got 35 days of Progesterone injections left.... maybe I should start a paper chain.

Thursday is too far away

2013-09-09T22:20:00.001-05:00

As I mentioned in my last post, my beta blood test (official pregnancy test) isn't until THURSDAY. That is way too long. In the meantime, I am analyzing every twinge and pain. Well, screw that.

Transfer Weekend

2013-09-08T09:19:00.001-05:00

I'll start with the most important part - we did it! On Tuesday, September 3, two beautiful blastocysts were transferred out of that cold, boring culture and into my fluffy, comfy uterus.

On Friday night, 8/30, we took the kids to Michigan to stay with our folks while we were in Connecticut. There was a bit of rain and a HUGE lightning storm on the way. It was quite magnificent to behold.

It is hard to live far enough away from them that we only see them every month or so, but it's good that they are only a few hours' drive away and that they live near each other. We are so grateful that the kids were well taken care of and well loved while we were gone! They spent the weekend with their cousins building sandcastles and lighting fireworks and all sorts of other things, and then spent the week running around in the woods, chasing chickens, making s'mores, and getting spoiled by Nana.

As for Luke and I, we flew out to CT on Saturday afternoon. The rain was back in the morning, drizzling on us as we made a last-minute trip to Walgreens before our cab was scheduled to pick us up and take us to the airport. It began to rain harder as we pulled back into the driveway and in the next 90 seconds, it turned from a light rain into a COMPLETE FREAKING DOWNPOUR and we were SOAKED running the ten feet from our door to the cab. By the time we arrived at the airport, we had outrun the storm. It was pretty crazy.

We landed in CT around dinner time, and Dave and Jimmy met us at the airport. It was so good to see their faces again! They once again welcomed us into their home for our trip, which was FAR more awesome than being in a hotel for the five day trip. On Sunday we rode to NYC (part in a car part on a train) and visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I feel bad that we didn't manage to squeeze anything else in (no Statue of Liberty, no Empire State Building, nothing touristy), but we spent a total of 4 hours traveling and about 3 in the museum, which kind of makes for a Day! Especially after spending the previous day traveling, I was beat. Still, we only saw a tiny fraction of the awesome and amazing things in the Met (and I probably could have happily spent all 3 hours in Ancient Egypt), and I hope to go back some day.

Oh, we did also get to see Grand Central Terminal, which was really neat. The ceiling is gorgeous, but hard to photograph with an iPhone.

Sunday night, we did a video chat with the kids and then we went to dinner. Dave and Jimmy have a very close-knit group of friends, and their weekly Sunday night tradition is a big "family" dinner. Their friends were eager to meet us, and were so fantastic! We felt honored to be welcomed into the group, and we also had a lot of fun. (oh and delicious food!) It was really special.

On Monday, Luke and I borrowed the car and drove up to a different part of the state to visit a friend of mine who I went to high school with in Michigan but has lived in CT with her Coastie husband for about 3 years now. We had lunch and froyo and chatted about our families, our lives, our kids, homeschooling, surrogacy, and more. It's amazing how much you can fit into a lunch date of just a couple hours! It was awesome to see them face-to-face (we are mostly Facebook friends these days!).

Then Jimmy, Dave, Luke, and I had our last dinner together as non-pregnant folks. :) We went to a cool local pizza place/microbrewery called BAR.

Now, what you came here for! Tuesday was the Big Day! I got a Starbucks pumpkin spice latte upon awakening (Jimmy had gotten up and made a Starbucks run before I was even awake, bless him!), was fed a fantastic breakfast, and then we headed to the clinic!

I also had lucky green fingernail polish and my awesome St. Patty's day pink and green socks. :)

We like taking pictures together, ok?

After a slight scheduling snafu (the morning's transfers were performed out of order, so we ended up waiting longer than we'd have hoped), we got to see the two gorgeous blastocysts which would be making their home inside me! Science is cool.

This is how we entertained ourselves. And a birdcage?

The transfer was quick and smooth, and pretty soon we were heading back to the house for the boring part - bed rest! The guys both headed to work to catch up on some things, and Luke and I had a Doctor Who marathon. Dave brought home Chinese Takeout for dinner, which was amazing. And naturally, fabulous chocolate for dessert.

We said goodbye to Jimmy on Wednesday morning as he left for work, and Dave came back at lunch time to drive us to the airport. Saying our goodbyes was sad, but the flight home was just gorgeous, with perfectly clear skies the entire trip. We got to watch the sun set over Lake Michigan and Chicago at the same time, a rare treat, and (I like to think) a good omen. :)

We had a couple more days of quiet (Luke worked Thursday and Friday), and headed back to Michigan to pick up the kids on Friday evening. Finally got home last night and we're looking forward to getting back into the swing of life.

I'm feeling pregnant, but I also know that the hormones I am on can be very tricksy that way, so I'm trying to just stay tentatively positive until my beta (blood pregnancy) test on Thursday.

©2013 All Rights Reserved

Surrogacy 3.0

2013-07-19T21:18:00.003-05:00

When last we left our heroine, she was on sabbatical from surrogacy, recovering from a year on meds, and healing from a bit of heartbreak.

Enough of the third person.

As some of you know, I've spent the past few months matching with and going through the lovely contract process with new intended fathers, Dave and Jimmy. As of last weekend, we are officially ready to proceed with our babymaking journey. Actually, as of this evening, I'm officially on meds! I've never done lupron before, so this should be interesting.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I wanted to tell you the story of last weekend, when my whole family (me, Luke, the kids) flew to Connecticut to meet our IFs in person, Jimmy for the first time (we met Dave shortly after matching because he happened to be in Chicago on business), to do medical screening (which felt almost incidental to the weekend), and to bond.

This was the kids' first trip on an airplane. The ride was short (about 2 hours), and they were champs, depsite Quentin's fears about the dangers of flying. Once we touched down at LaGuardia, he was a convert. "Flying's actually quite fun!" said he.

It was very late when we arrived at Dave & Jimmy's house on Thursday night, so everyone just kind of crashed. Friday morning was all about screening. The kids got to eat gluten-free cereal for breakfast (The guys stocked up on GF treats just for Q), and we drove to New Haven to see Dr. Doyle. I was very impressed with him and his bedside manner. He seems quite confident that we can make this happen. If all goes well, we'll be transferring two awesome fresh embryos by the first of September. Fingers crossed! The protocol for medications will be very different from what I did with my previous surrogacies - there's just never a dull moment and I never stop learning! I will spare you the pictures of my hysteroscopy, but I *did* take a picture of the printout of my uterus - oh come on, tell me you're suprised.

We were all very tired after our late night and busy morning, so on Friday afternoon we went back to the house and everyone but me napped. Jude took some time to become a member of the pack first, though.

I was silly and stayed up to read. It was actually just what my introverted heart needed to be ready for the rest of the weekend. That evening, we went out to dinner at a local pizza place that served fantastic GF pizza. Jude was pretty hyped up, and spent most of the time we were waiting for food running up and down a set of steps in the alley, swinging on the railing, and being generally Jude.

Saturday we drove to Mystic Harbor for a sailboat ride, which was amazing, even with the rain during the second half. Quentin got to "drive" the boat, and refused to abandon his post, even in the rain. He did, however, make me find him a poncho.

I took a lot of pictures on the boat. I think I need to find somewhere else to upload them, though. ;)

After the boat ride, we took a walk in downtown Mystic, and Jimmy pointed out Mystic Pizza to us, setting and title to a Julia Roberts movie, apparently. We walked across a drawbridge, shopped for toys, and got ice cream and floats in a little local ice cream shoppe.

Throughout the weekend we also played some games (Quentin became obsessed with this puzzle game, whose name I can't remember and should because he wants one for his birthday now), did some crafts, and a ton of chatting and hanging out and bonding. The six of us couldn't fit into one car, so the kids' seats were in Dave's car and Luke and I took turns switching off between that car and Jimmy's. It gave us each a chance to chat and bond and get to know the guys in our own ways, and it was really great. It turns out they are the same sort of interesting mix of irreverently silly extroversion and deep and meaningful introversion as I am. We learned about their families, they asked us advice on parenting, and I think we all understood that this is going to be amazing, and we'll be in each others' lives forever.

One thing about surrogacy that I had heard but had to experience for myself. New intended parents are like a new baby in the family. And if you have more than one child, you probably know where I'm going with this. When you are about to have a new baby, you think, "How? How can I ever love this child as much as I love my first? How can there be enough love in the world for that?" And it's the same when you've had amazing intended parents and begin to embark on a journey with a new couple. You wonder how you could possibly get lucky enough to love and adore your second set as much as the first. But just like a second child, you find that you DO have that much love to go around, that the bond is different but no less, that your life and your heart have expanded yet again. ♥

I could go on and on. I could tell you about how gorgeous Connecticut was, about a silly trip to the grocery store and cooking bacon in a vegetarian kitchen. I could talk about how we broke all the rules and discussed politics and religion, about Jude's outburst of the F-bomb and the moments when the kids were just Done. I could show you a million pictures. But I'll just leave you with these last few. My heart is full and happy.

Surrogacy Sabbatical

2012-10-10T17:37:00.001-05:00

The past year has been a roller coaster of more downs than ups, when it comes to surrogacy.

Since my idiotic, doctor-induced miscarriage, I've been waiting for seven weeks for my cycles to come back, but after a full year on meds almost constantly, followed by the confusion of an aborted pregnancy, my body seems to be in revolt.

The RE wants me to take a break from the process, to let my body recover. My guys feel they're not getting any younger, and they want a big family. Those things considered, they have decided to begin the process of searching for a new surrogate.

While my heart is broken to not have been able to give them this gift, I know this is the best decision for us all. While it would be easy to feel I am being replaced, the truth is that there will probably be opportunities for us to try again in the future.

But I'm alternating between tears and relief at having a bit of resolution. For now, I'm out of limbo. For now, I'm off the rollercoaster. For now, I have closure.

I'm going to go get that tattoo I've been eyeing, and try to figure out what to do with my life.

©2012 All Rights Reserved

What it's for

2012-08-21T13:27:00.000-05:00

Things have been stressful lately. Between the surrogacy setbacks and some craziness in our lives in general, it's been tough.

But I got some pictures in my email today that remind me why I am doing this. They made me smile, they made my day. Maybe they'll make yours, too.

Gah, I bake adorable babies.

Surrogacy 2.0

2012-08-16T15:27:00.000-05:00

Surrogacy 2.0

Take 1

11/7/11 Transfer of two b-grade embryos/blasts
11/17/11 Negative beta :(

Take 1.5

3/12 Ovulated through meds, cycle cancelled

Take 2

5/3/12 Transfer of 1 "A+ excellent" hatching blastocyst and 1 "average" blastocyst (both 6-days)
5/14/12 negative beta

Take 2.1

5/21/12 medication mishap - birth control this cycle

Take 3

6/27/12 Transfer of one Grade 1 and one Grade 2 frozen blastocyst.
switched to Crinone (from PIO) for post-transfer progesterone supplement
7/6/12 negative beta

Take 4

using Crinone for entire cycle progesterone supplement
7/30/12 Transfer of 3 Grade 2 blasts (1 expanded)
8/9/12 POSITIVE digital pregnancy test and beta of 14.5 (yikes)
The whole story of the rest of this can be found here.
8/10/12 Repeat beta 20.5, stopped meds
8/14/12 still feeling pregnant, asked for early repeat beta 305
8/15/12 bleeding begins
8/16/12 beta 139, early miscarriage

Take 5

waiting one full cycle, possible transfer in October

Five Weeks

2012-08-16T11:21:00.000-05:00

If you've been following my life for any length of time, you probably know that I tend not to be the sort of person to go along with whatever a medical professional tells me. When I was in labor with my second son, I left a hospital AMA (against medical advice) because they tried to bully me into procedures I knew to be unnecessary. I went on to have him successfully at another hospital.

I am a big fan of patient education and advocacy. Yes, doctors go to school for a long time to learn what they do. But that doesn't mean they have time to keep up on the latest advances. That doesn't mean they spend as much time thinking about what's happening to your body as you do. That doesn't mean they're invested in your outcome enough to maybe push a little harder and go an extra mile.

I get a lot of flak for being the crazy hippie lady who won't just listen to her doctors.

When my beta came back at 14.5 last week (8/9), my doctor wanted me to stop meds right away (IVF meds are basically an extra support to make sure your body understands that it's pregnant and doesn't try to shed your lining and the embryos along with it) because they expect to see a number close to 100 on the first beta test, and since mine was so low, the pregnancy was "definitely" not viable. He was certain that my levels would not increase, that there was something wrong, that I was not "really" pregnant. So stop meds and wait for a period, they told me.

But being the contrary, difficult, crazy hippie that I am, I fought. I asked for a second beta, just to be sure. I knew the odds were slim, but I had heard enough stories online (and one from a friend who is also a surrogate) of low starting betas that ended in a healthy baby. I didn't figure there was harm in just CHECKING again. My IFs agreed with me, so the doc relented and sent me in for a repeat beta the next day (8/10).

When my hcg level only rose slightly (from 14.5-20.8, a 43% increase, when they like to see the numbers double every 48 hours), I was told again to stop meds, that this was not a viable pregnancy, that it was possibly ectopic and if I continued meds, I would be putting my health in danger because of that. At this point, I was scared, so I relented (that should have been my first warning sign).

Three days later, I couldn't help but notice I felt really pregnant. Since I had stopped medications, I was expecting my pregnancy symptoms to dissipate (the meds can mimic pregnancy symptoms). I hadn't started a period yet, and if anything, I felt like my symptoms were getting worse. I decided to take another home pregnancy test in the morning (8/14) and it was positive. This was a test that had come back negative Friday morning when my beta had been 20, so I assumed my levels must have been increasing.

I left a message with the doctor's nurses that morning, because after everything they'd said about the possibility of ectopic pregnancy (and my lovely Dr. Google's input on the matter), I was scared - no, I was terrified of the idea of an ectopic. I knew that a beta would give us an idea of what my levels were doing - if they were dropping, I would probably be fine. If they were rising very slowly, it could be ectopic and I'd need an ultrasound to try to verify that. When they finally called back that afternoon, they told me to go in for another beta right away. Because it was so late, the results wouldn't come back until the next day, but they thought the sooner I went in to have my blood drawn, the better.

My beta came back (on 8/15, from the 8/14 blood draw) at 305. This means my hcg number had doubled EVERY 24 HOURS since Friday (8/10). The doctor said that number was "abnormally high" and so I would have to go in for a d&c (trigger warning if you click the link).

Uh, what? You want to do a d&c without an ultrasound to verify what's going on?

When I mentioned to the nurse that I had started bleeding that morning (8/15), she said (with complete nonchalance), "oh, well you probably started miscarrying then, anyway, so you shouldn't need to go in for a d&c." Instead, they wanted me to repeat my beta in a couple of days to make sure my levels were dropping.

Wait, what? Wait... These numbers have been doubling just as they should be (despite the doctor's assurance that there was no pregnancy). Why would he suggest a d&c in the first place? Why would the nurse sound relieved that I was miscarrying? What the fuck is going on here? "well, you remember how doc wanted you to go off the meds on Thursday, but you insisted on another test on Friday?" uh, yeah, wtf does that have to do with anything? Are you trying to put this on me? Seriously? I don't even understand what that means. Two extra doses of progesterone kept me pregnant for a week? And that's bad? No one could really give me a good answer, so I asked my IF to call the doctor.

When he did, the doctor explained that because my second beta hadn't doubled within 48 hours at the beginning, he knew the pregnancy wasn't viable, no matter what my betas were saying. "But wait," said my IF, the second beta was 24 hours after the first, not 48. "What??" said the doc. He had NOT BOTHERED TO CHECK THE DATES on my betas. He just read the numbers, knowing that they usually sent patients for betas 48 hours apart, and saw the number hadn't doubled.

Ok, so that's a mistake, and it's understandable. But why was he in such a rush to get me off meds? After FOUR ATTEMPTS, wouldn't you think it would be reasonable to give it another couple of days, checking my betas again every 48 hours, and making sure that they were dropping as he expected (or continuing to rise erratically, indicating possible ectopic) before taking me off the meds? Would another few days have hurt?

What I know is this: taking me off the meds in a rush DID hurt. I'm almost certainly miscarrying a 5-week pregnancy right now because my doctor was in a rush, or arrogant, or just plain stupid. And because I didn't keep advocating for myself.

So don't tell me I'm a difficult, crazy hippie lady for questioning my doctors. And don't ever let anyone tell you that, either. Be educated about what is happening to your body, whether it's pregnancy, illness, or something else that requires "expert" input. PLEASE, listen to your body. Listen to your intuition. If you feel something's not right, if you feel your doctor is rushing, if you feel there is more information to consider, push for continued testing. Get a second opinion. Do not, under any circumstances, just take the doctor's word for anything if you don't feel right about it. I'm not saying you should take your care into your own hands and throw away the professionals. I'm saying you should take your care into your own hands and don't let the professionals throw you away.

I had another beta this morning to confirm that I am indeed miscarrying, and the results should be back this afternoon. But I know my body, and I know what's happening to me right now isn't right. I'm in pain, I'm exhausted, I'm emotionally fragile. I'm struggling to take care of myself and my kids. I am hurt and so angry. I cannot even explain the level of anger, frustration, devastation I'm feeling. I can't begin to imagine what my IFs are going through, but I know what *I* am going through. And not only is this bad for this pregnancy and all of our emotions, it's bad financially for my IFs (there are a lot of costs involved with every transfer, in addition to the basic fees to the doctor, which I sure hope would be waived). It's bad physically for me (dealing with not only a miscarriage, but MORE hormones and another transfer). It's bad timing for all of us (best case scenario it will be another 6-10 weeks before we can transfer again).

This would all be bad enough if it were just what had happened naturally, but knowing it could have been prevented with just a little more care and attention is really just awful.

UPDATE: Beta came back at 139, so it's official. Waiting another cycle to try again, possibly transferring in October.

Thank you for listening to my story, thank you for holding us in your hearts.

©2012 All Rights Reserved

Fun while it lasted

2012-08-10T17:55:00.001-05:00

Well, I'm glad I got some Panera mac & cheese today, while I was pregnant.

Yesterday's beta numbers came back extremely low - 14.5 (they like to see a number over 100). My RE wanted me to stop meds right away, but I have heard enough miracle stories that I told them I wanted to be retested to see if the level was increasing.

So I went back in today, and the number was 20. An increase, but a very slow one. We would have expected such a low number to at least double if not more in 24 hours. Given my experience with a chemical pregnancy in the past, and the risk of ectopic pregnancy when beta numbers look like this, we feel comfortable at this point stopping meds and letting my body reset again.

I'm going to be retested in a week to make sure my hcg levels have returned to 0, then we'll start one more time with the last set of embryos.

Thanks for all of your happy thoughts yesterday. I kind of wish I'd waited to share the news so that I didn't get your hopes up, but I am glad that you're all here listening and holding me up (and my IFs - they read this blog and your comments, too).

©2012 All Rights Reserved

Beta Day or What Kind of Clinic Doesn't Give STAT Results On THURSDAY?

2012-08-09T12:44:00.000-05:00

What a freaking morning.

I'm going to torture you with the whole long fucking story. Feel free not to read on if you aren't interested in the whining.

My beta appointment was scheduled for 8 a.m. I was up at 6, when Luke's alarms started going off, which was actually nice because I got to enjoy my coffee in peace. Since I was going to have the car, I planned to run lots of errands, including paying rent and school supply shopping.

We got to the clinic early (good traffic! woo!), and waited a few minutes. Jude watched as usual as I had my blood drawn. It's actually pretty hilarious to watch him watching me. His face is expressively empathetic. :)

Next stop was the bank, which wasn't open inside, so we had to use the drive-through. I took out half the rent, since I hadn't yet received a check I was expecting in the mail but my landlady needed to pay her freaking mortgage.

We drove up to her place to drop off the cash and waited at her door for like 5 minutes before she finally answered. Then we were off to Target for school supplies!

My kids are sometimes amazingly cooperative when we shop, and sometimes, well, not so much. Today was one of the latter. It was about 10:00 when we were finally checking out, and just afterward, my phone rang. It was my RE's office on the line, and let me digress a second.

Usually, I get my monitoring done super early, and the RE calls me a couple of hours later to confirm that I went in and get the contact information for results. Then around 3 p.m., the results come back.

Today, however, the nurse had bad news - apparently my monitoring clinic doesn't do STAT (same-day) results on Thursdays. WTF, Thursday??

So our choices were wait until tomorrow for results (!!!) or go somewhere else and get poked again for STAT results. Well, crap. I called one of my IFs to see what they wanted to do. Rather than pay for a second test because the clinic screwed up, he decided I should take a pregnancy test just to get the suspense over with, and then we could wait for the official numbers tomorrow.

Now let me tell you a secret. Surrogacy is full of pressure. Not just pressure to make a baby, oh no. When you are part of support groups, there's also peer pressure. Specifically, POAS pressure. No matter how ardently you assert that you will NOT cheat, that you're GOING to wait for BETA, it's really hard to resist the pressure. Especially when you're at a family function where you have to forego all of the fun due to potential pregnancy (because a positive will make you feel better about that, yaknow?)

So naturally, I had started testing on day 4 (for the record, it's extremely rare to get a positive before day 5 after a 5-day transfer). All of my tests were negative, and I stopped testing on day 8 because it was just depressing. But since my IF had asked me to, I figured I'd take one more just to say I had tested today. I was so not looking forward to passing on that news. :\

We arrived home about 10:15, and OF COURSE the mail had arrived and contained the check I'd been waiting for. So we were going to have to drive BACK down to the bank and BACK up to the landlady's house to give her the rest of the rent money. But the kids were whining about being hungry, so I decided I'd go in, POAS, feed them, and then do the rest of the running around.

So I sent the kids off to play while I made their snacks, then I peed on a stick. I had bought a digital this time, so I got to watch the little timer on the screen flash-flash-flash. I sighed, waiting sucks. And waiting to be yelled at by the stick (NOT PREGNANT, it would shout) sucked even more. I checked facebook. I looked back at the screen and watched the little timer flash-flash-flash. Do you have any idea how long three minutes is? I checked my email. I looked back at the screen and literally GASPED at the single word showing there.

Pregnant

One stark, clear, undeniable word. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.

OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

I tried like six times to take a picture to text to my IFs, but my hands were shaking (I finally turned on the flash and managed one clear shot). I just couldn't believe it. After all of my negative tests, I'd been sure this transfer had failed, so sure that I had started calculating what the next transfer would do to my schedule for fall and summer. But it was positive.

We're still holding our breaths a little bit for beta results, but this is a hugely good start.

Fourth Time's the Charm?

2012-08-02T11:49:00.002-05:00

The short version:

Transferred in LA on Monday, 7/30. We put in 3 (!) grade 2 embryos, two from the same IF as the past 3 transfers (one expanded blast - and don't ask me what exactly that means, because I'm not sure other than it's developed a bit further) and one from the other IF. Beta is 8/9. Scroll for pictures.

The long version:

Luke and I (yayyyyy for my honey coming along!!) flew to LA on Sunday afternoon, after dropping the boys off with an awesome friend. She passed them along to another awesome friend on Monday. Kidsharing for the win!

Bigger than it looks (TWHS)

If you look carefully near the top of the photo, you can see the tiny trickle of water that created this canyon over millions of years. NATURE RULES.

Once we landed at LAX, I (of course) had to get some Pinkberry before heading out to the hotel. This is WHY we put up with the horror that is MDW to fly Southwest, after all. (Terminal 1 at LAX is the only one with a Pinkberry.) If you've never had Pinkberry, go find one and get some. Or cry.

Original flavor with mochi, fruit galore and crispy chocolate stuff, topped with coconut. Totally worth every minute and calorie.

We hopped on the Flyaway shuttle to find Los Angeles apparently under construction. Also? I did not miss riding the school bus; this shit was bouncy. Cheaper than a cab, though, at $10/person. And all community-feeling. We even gave a girl who got off the bus with us directions like pros.

This building is cool.

We had a nice view from our hotel room on the seventh floor. It was fun to note how far we could see each day. On Monday, letters on a faraway hill revealed themselves, only to disappear again on Tuesday. Pollution, you're gorgeous, even if you're choking the life out of the human race. We probably deserve it, anyway.

Once we were settled in, we headed down to the hotel's restaurant (Blvd. 16) for dinner and drinks.

Yes, that is mac & cheese with bacon bread crumbs. Yes, it scalded my tongue because I couldn't wait for it to cool down before ~~scarfing~~ eating it.

The New Old Fashioned (Irish Whiskey, Solerno Blood Orange Liqueur, Luxardo Marischino Liqueur, and a dash of bitters served up or on the rocks), with Bushmills instead of Jameson because I'm a snob like that. Also, they were out of Jameson. It's like an amazing martini for martini haters. When I die, I want this to be my last beverage. Seriously, yum.

We were super smart on Sunday night, and took a walk to CVS for supplies after dinner. Water, popcorn, gummy bears - you know, the usual. Saved us from raiding the overpriced minibar. On the way back to the hotel, the sunset was reflecting off of the office buildings in such a gorgeous way, I went into tourist mode with my cell phone camera. At least it wasn't a dSLR.

Sunset reflected off of this building was super pretty.

Same with these. Told you I went into tourist mode.

Luke: "YOU JUST TOOK A PICTURE OF A PALM TREE"

Monday morning, I woke before the sun. Seriously, look at this crap:

5 a.m. OMGGGGGGGGGG

I have to say, though, watching the sky lighten was pretty cool. So cool, in fact, that I kept taking pictures. Hey, it's what I do.

When I finally pulled my camera away from the window, I got ready to head to the Dr.'s office for transfer. I am thinking VERY POSITIVE this time around, so I wore my "Yes, I'm pregnant; No, it's not mine" shirt. Actually, the lack of semicolon on my shirt makes me extremely sad. I'm cute, though!

That pin is very special to me, too. Full of good luck and affirmation.

We went to Peet's for coffee (holy crap, delicious). AND we had breakfast at Noah's Bagels (um, and the store locator tells me that apparently this is the same as Einstein Bros here in the midwest?), which we ate at before our two successful transfers, but not since, if I remember correctly. More good luck! And a gorgeous sunrise.

Godiva dark chocolate raspberry "Freddo" - blended cappuccino drink.

The amazing light in LA threw into sharp relief the lack of dynamic range my phone camera, for all its awesome, lacks.

Then it was off to transfer! Since my regular RE is on vacation, we conned him into letting his partner do my transfer. She was really amazing and sweet, even if she kept explaining things to me like I haven't done this FIVE TIMES BEFORE.

Don't you wish you could have lain on a table for 1/2 hour with this thing inside of you?

Seriously, though. They got me all set up, speculum inserted, cervix washed, catheter in position, nurse holding the ultrasound wand on my full bladder with a deathgrip (come on, this is a surrogacy blog, don't get squeamish with me)... And we sat there and sat there and SAT THERE waiting for the damn embryologist to come in with her tube full of baby-to-be. Luke said later that he thought about taking a picture of the three of us waiting "patiently" for her arrival, but thought it might be a bit uncouth. Whatevs.

Finally she arrived, called out the contents of her magic turkey baster (not really, but it kind of looked like a mini one), and they transferred the embryos.

They're cute, right?

After transfer, I had to lay on the table for 45 minutes to give the embies a chance to snuggle in (please don't say, "dig in." This gives me visions of Stephen King-esque monsters). I found myself singing, "Enter, Rejoice, and Come In" (that's not me singing in the link, btw). It was just kind of stuck in my head, but turns out to be a good sentiment for babymaking, right? DON'T JUDGE ME! :p

Then it was back to the hotel for bed rest (cheapest cab ride ever, btw). We stopped down at the restaurant to pick up lunch and man, they had some interesting reading material set up as decoration in the lounge.

Indeed.

We watched synchronized Olympic diving, caught up on True Blood, and read a bit... At some point during the stay, I got bored. I have no problem laying around in bed at home, but for some reason, I was very antsy in LA. I wanted to WALK ALL OF THE OUTSIDE. Did I mention the weather was gorgeous? low-to-mid 70s, dry, gorgeous. I cried when we stepped out of the airport in Chicago to 90+ gross humid weather. Anyway, back to my boredom. I took pictures of the chaise, in macro.

Well, it IS kind of cool looking?

Tuesday, we hung around and watched more Olympics (rowing is strangely fascinating), waiting for check out time. We had a lateish flight, so we figured we might as well lounge as much as possible and give those embies some extra mellow time. I took one more picture of our cool temple view before we boarded the elevator.

We walked back to the Flyaway, and on the way, stopped at The Stand for draft root beer (!!), and I got a cilantro chicken sandwich and sweet potato fries. I know you were curious.

I've been craving these fries ever since.

A couple of hours of waiting at the airport, then MOAR FROYO.

Original and Watermelon swirl with raspberry, mango, and LOTS of crispy chocolate stuff.
I MISS YOU, PINKBERRY!

Next time, I'm bringing my Holga so that I can take pictures during takeoff (Holgas are completely manual, so unlike dSLRs and cell phones, the "turn off your electronic devices" does not apply).

This is still as close as I've gotten to seeing the ocean. Someday.

Then we were back in sweet home Chicago, and OMG MIDWAY, I HATE YOU SO HARD. We sat on the tarmac for like 10 minutes waiting for someone to bring the jetway bridge to us. We waited for our shuttle to the parking lot for what felt like a century in the gross GROSS HEAT AND HUMIDITY (though mad props to shuttle driver who took the waiting horde to all of the lots and the garage instead of making us all wait for our individual busses).

We picked the kids up, totally waking them in the process, and fell back into bed somewhere in the vicinity of 1:30 a.m. Of course, they were wide awake at 7 Wednesday morning. Ah, well.

Come back next week for my beta results. I have a good feeling about this.

Updates

2012-07-11T13:40:00.000-05:00

I know, it's been quiet here. Things have been moving along, but mostly in a sideways sort of trajectory. Transfers 2 and 3 (beginning of May and end of June, respectively) were unsuccessful. It's been pretty hard on us all, emotionally. If you click the pregnancy progress tab above, you'll see that since October 2011, we've had three failed transfers, a cancelled transfer, and a med mishap that led to a three-week delay.

Transfer number four is currently scheduled for July 30. I've been tentatively hopeful every time before transfer (except the first time; I was all-out excited then), and have had mixed emotions after. I KNEW the first transfer didn't work, I KNEW the second one did (but it didn't), and I was afraid to have any thoughts about the third. This time, I'm quite excited, because we've made some changes in protocol that should help, and because IVF is statistically more likely to be successful with each attempt.

Cross your fingers, cross your toes (just don't cross your legs), hope, pray, wish for luck, and I'll let you know how it goes in about 30 days.

©2012 All Rights Reserved

How to Make a Baby in LA

2012-05-23T12:20:00.000-05:00

So I wrote this post after the transfer, when I was SO SURE it worked. I can't bring myself to post it openly now, but it was also hilarious so I can't bring myself not to post it at all. Enjoy.

As you may or may not be aware, I was in LA May 2-4, having two gorgeous 6-day formerly-frozen embryos (blastocysts, actually) installed in my equally gorgeous uterus.

I'll spare you a picture of the uterus.

Since this venture was extremely successful (to the tune of a #### Beta for you folks who are only here for the punchline), I thought I'd give you some tips and tricks to ensure successful IVF embryo transfer and implantation, should you desire to follow a similar path (become a surrogate! Yay!!!).

Step 1: Get Starbucks (Mocha Coconut Frappuccino {MCF} was my drink of choice, but you can get whatever tickles your fancy. I'm sure this doesn't affect embryo implantation success rates.), then hop on a plane the evening before transfer. Ride with your awesome IFs, who generously give you the window seat. Be sure there is no actual window beside said seat.

Step 2a: Arrive in LA, get a hotel room with a nice view.

Step 2b: Remember: Sticks and stones may break your bones, but whore is a really mean word.

Oh, that says "WHERE" - my bad.

Step 2c: Be sure there is a loft bed to minimize your trips to the bathroom while on bed rest. While you're up there, put on your big girl panties and give yourself a 1cc intramuscular PIO (progesterone in oil) shot with a 1.5" needle. You can do it.

Step 3: Since tequila is a known fertility enhancer (a full 85% of babies conceived in California were conceived after a night of tequila consumption), go out for one "last hurrah" the night before embryo transfer and drink a margarita as big as your head. Six shots of Patron in a 36-oz margarita should suffice.

Step 4: Take a belly pic before you go to bed, because hell, you're almost 3 weeks pregnant already.

Step 5a: Go to bed, but not before you COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY FAIL to shave your legs (even though you TOTALLY REMEMBERED to trim your other important area) the night before your acupuncture appointment and embryo transfer, where your bottom half will be bared to the world (or at least an acupuncturist, an RE, a nurse, an embryologist, and your IFs. Whatevs).

Step 5b: Wake at 7 am to a text from one of your amazing IFs saying he left another {MCF} outside your hotel room door. You'll need that caffeine for your 3 block power-walk to the nearest CVS, where you will hurriedly buy the cheapest razors you can find. Walk back, choose the pink razor from the value bag of 6 assorted colors, and shave frantically. Use hotel facial soap as shaving cream to ensure maximum razor burn.

Step 6: Continue what will become a theme of "food 'round the world" for the remainder of your trip. Make sure to take a bite or three before remembering to take a picture. Try hard not to stuff yourself on delicious high-protein crepes, complete with amazing avocado and the best pesto ever. It's probably best if you fail at this because, damn, those crepes are amazing.

Step 7: Don't freak out about acupuncture because HELLO, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE RELAXING. Fail to take pictures of the needles in your face because they're also in your hands.

Step 8a: Wait. And wait. And wait some more. Closely inspect and take pictures of the ultrasound machine and feel sad you didn't think to bring a clever costume for Wandy the transvaginal ultrasound wand.

Step 8b: Notice with some alarm that the name on the ultrasound machine isn't yours. Find it a (far-fetched) omen that it is the first name of the main character in the book you're reading. Listen carefully when the embryologist announces the names of the owner and recipient of the embryos they are about to transfer. (PHEW!)

Step 9: Insert Embryos Here! Oh, but first make sure your RE comments on how nice it is you didn't dye your pubic hair pink to match the hair on your head. (I SHIT YOU NOT, HE TOTALLY SAID THAT)

Step 10: Consume froyo, lounge around, nap, read, check your 23489798 facebook messages, give yourself TWO intramuscular shots this time (LIKE A BOSS), sleep. Wake the next morning to yet another {MCF}, pack, and then amble your way to brunch. Top it off with a "Sticky Piggy" cupcake (maple syrup and BACON!) as a final good luck charm to ensure sticky embryos, who will forever bear the nickname,Sticky Piggy.

FLY HOME!!

Epilogue: Cave to peer pressure and take a home pregnancy test EVERY. DAY. until your beta.

The difference a year makes

2012-04-28T10:28:00.000-05:00

A year ago, I was feeling super whiny and not at all optimistic about my prospects for birthing someone else's baby. I was sure that gestational diabetes, group B strep, and the associated interventions would render me miserable and/or cut open.

I am so pleased that Danika and I got to experience a relatively intervention-free, peaceful, healing birth instead. It's amazing to look back at my pregnancy and birth and feel so joyful. I vaguely remember being really cranky. Haha. :)

Today, I'm prepping (again) for another round of surrogacy (after one failed and one cancelled transfer so far this round). Yesterday, I added daily progesterone injections to my every-3-day estrogen injections, and I'm scheduled for a transfer of frozen embryos on Thursday (5/3/12). I CAN'T WAIT! Hopefully, it's nice in LA next week.

So many of my surrogate friends are pregnant or about to be pregnant, going through these journeys for the first, second, third times... I am so looking forward to joining their ranks once again instead of being the jealous bystander.

I'm not sure if I'll keep this blog up as well as I did in the past (which really wasn't all that well, anyway). I have kind of become absorbed in Facebook and, oh, I don't know, LIFE these past months. But I am appreciating right now the ability to look back on my last pregnancy and see how things progressed. So I'll try to keep this up, if only for posterity.

Feel free to pull up a footrest and join me. <3

©2012 All Rights Reserved

Things to do while waiting

2012-03-14T18:46:00.000-05:00

One of the unexpected difficulties of surrogacy is the waiting. There are waits for legal clearance, waits for periods to start, waits for transfers, waits for results, waits to start again. What's a surrogate to do?

The Ryan Gosling meme cracks me up, and inspires me, so this surrogate created a meme tumblr. My surrogate friends helped me out with ideas for both subjects and subject matter. You can see the hilariously true and inspiringly gorgeous results here: http://heygirlsurrogacy.tumblr.com/archive

Pre-Heating the Oven

2011-10-22T17:35:00.001-05:00

I am just amazed at how much faster this process moves without a half-competent agency holding up the red tape everywhere. That's not to say there IS no red tape (there were still evaluations to complete, escrow to be established, contracts to be signed, etc), only that it's been cut through with much greater speed and efficiency this go-round.

I'm not gonna lie, I was dreading going through IVF medications again. I did two cycles back-to-back last time before we got pregnant (and I say "we" because really, that pregnancy was FULL of people), and after several months of birth control, which makes me even more completely nutters than I am by nature. It took until halfway through the second cycle to realize that I was allergic (or at least sensitive) to the sesame oil in the progesterone, which was giving me horrid itchy bumps near the injection site. If you don't recall, said injection site is MY ARSE, so you can imagine the unpleasantness of an allergic reaction.

But I started my cycle this week and thus my meds (e2v every third day for two weeks, then adding progesterone, which is really the bitch of the injections, daily from there), and, as I knew would be the case (but that didn't stop me doing it), anticipating the thing was worse than the shot itself. Granted, the first one is always easy, it's the eleventy-billionth one that makes me lie down and cry and whimper, "I don't wanna dooooo this anymore!" (PS I like parentheses)

But I digress.

The point is that this oven is pre-heating, and according to my calendar, we'll be popping in surrogate bun 2.0 on November 7. In the mean time, here are a couple of recent pics of surrogate bun 1.0 aka The Princess aka Princess Buttercup aka Danika. OMG she is just so cute it HURTS!

Silly face!

What a pumpkin!

First trip to the pumpkin patch

Ready for a weekend getaway (nearly 5 months)

For reference, this was her at 2.5 weeks! Also, I don't know if you've seen this pic yet but I <3 it. Her daddies got officially married (CU in IL) the same day her second-parent adoption was finalized. <3

Starting Over (sort of)

2011-09-28T20:19:00.002-05:00

I spent the weekend in LA again. It was kind of a grueling weekend, consisting of four+ hours of travel for four straight days, six time-zone changes, blisters, a just-missed bus, and a kid who did NOT cope well with his schedule being screwed up.

But it was worth it to ~~get Pinkberry~~ hear, "Your uterus is beautiful. We'll give you the meds and you can start with your next cycle."

Yep, I'm going to be Baking Someone Else's Baby again! We're working independently this time, with a wonderful gay couple who already has one child via surrogacy (an absolutely adorable little girl!). For a few PITA reasons, I can't be more specific than that in an open forum. BUT! If all goes well, I'll be puking my way through Christmas! (not really, I never puke when I'm pregnant, but it sounded funny?)

The guys are elated and I can't wait to help make them daddies all over again. My meds came in the mail today and I've got them all organized and ready to go.

Let's get baking!

©2011 All Rights Reserved

What's your superpower?

2011-05-21T09:58:00.004-05:00

For the past year, I've worked hard to prepare my body to carry a baby, then to give her everything she needed while she was growing inside of me. I had to very carefully monitor what I was eating for the past few months due to gestational diabetes. I spent a lot of time and effort making sure Danika had everything she needed for a good start in life, and providing her with breastmilk is for me a logical extension of that.

I nursed her while we were in the hospital together, so she got colostrum for a couple of days. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to produce any sort of extra supply during that time, so she was fed formula for a couple of days after I was discharged. Apparently she hates formula. But during those two days, I pumped around the clock, 20-30 minutes of pumping every two hours, working to build a supply. I got about 10 oz saved up and Ryan drove out to pick it up from me yesterday morning.

A few hours later, Dave sent me the first pediatrician report - she's started gaining weight again and is absolutely perfect! As though my womb could produce anything less. :D Just look!

In the evening, Ryan sent me an email that made my heart all warm and fuzzy.

First taste back on breast milk and buttercup took both of her hands and dug her little nails into my fingers to make sure I didn't pull that bottle away! She loved it.
Thank you so much....

Seriously, it may have been the hormones but I cried a little reading that. I'm so glad to know that my efforts are well appreciated by both Danika and her daddies. She apparently cluster fed for several hours last night and plowed through my supply. Ryan drove out again this morning to pick up what I'd pumped in the last 20 hours or so.

This is a lot of work, both for me, and for Ryan and Dave. I'm sure it would be much easier for them to buy formula and mix it up when she's hungry rather than having to worry about transporting, storing, and running back and forth for pumped milk. But I'm so happy to be able to continue to contribute to her wellbeing, and thrilled that they are willing to put in that extra effort to make sure Danika is getting the best food available to her. They know that breastmilk is the best option and that MY breastmilk is specifically tailored for their baby. They are willing and eager to go that extra mile to give her an edge. Not that I'd expect any less. They're awesome dads. But knowing that the three of them so appreciate the milk I give makes every minute worthwhile.

My pumping alarm is ringing now, so please enjoy this painfully adorable 30-second ninja moves video (which I'm pretty sure depicts exactly what Danika was doing in my womb for the past week or two). You'll want to turn your volume ALL the way up.

Welcoming the Morning Star

2011-05-18T12:38:00.003-05:00

So I was going to take a nap before writing this story, but my audience (that's you!) would have none of it. I started to write, then got caught up in the business of just having had a baby. I've worked on it on and off over the last couple of days, but it's still probably a little rough. The important bits are right up there above, anyway.

I'm going to try to make the remainder as coherent as possible, but you know, labor & delivery isn't always coherent. :) Ryan agrees with my assessment that the nine hour process is more a series of mental snapshots and 30-second videos, all mishmashed together and swirled around out of order than it is a cohesive storyline. But I think you'll manage.

As I mentioned Monday, we arrived at the hospital with tentative hopes that everything would go well. I was nervous about intervention but happy to try something more on the natural side (amniotomy). Lee (the midwife on call from my practice) checked me first, and confirmed I was dilated to 4 cm (same as at my last appointment for a membrane sweep) and about 60% effaced.

I'm calling it 9:30 a.m. when they ruptured my membranes, which was a much more difficult process than it ought to have been. I didn't actually see the tools they used, but Luke tells me they started off with the standard amniohook you hear about (crochet hook type), and after a few minutes of that not getting the job done, they upgraded to something pokier. A quick google images search for amnio hook will give you an idea of the variety, if you're interested.

After my water was broken, I lay in bed a little while recovering, then got up to pace the halls. While I was lying there, we tried to find something worth watching on TV, to no avail. Instead, we were treated to the TERRIFYING, BLOOD-CURDLING sounds of labor progressing in the next room. When I labored with Jude, I spent 13 or so hours on pitocin before giving in and getting an epidural, so I did know what labor was like. However, listening to that woman, I was suddenly like a deer in headlights, afraid I'd blocked out how much it would really hurt. I mean, she was screaming like a TLC special. I looked at Luke with wide eyes and he kind of squeezed my hand and told me I'd never sounded like that (even though I'm a wining-and-noise-for-pain-relief sort of person). I resigned myself to hoping she was just a screamer.

After a couple of hours of pacing and sitting in a rocking chair (I'm a lazy preggo - not a whole lot of activity the past few months - and I get tired pretty easily. Not to mention, I didn't sleep too well the previous night, for obvious reasons.), the midwife said I looked "too happy." I think she was unconvinced that anything was really happening as far as labor progression. She told me they would give me until 3:30 (6 hours of ruptured membranes, "reasonable" with my positive Group B Strep status) to walk and get things moving, then they'd check me and probably start a low pitocin drip.

As I was walking my endless loop of the maternity ward, my contractions started to get stronger. Previously, I'd been able to just slow down during them, but now I'd have to stop during each one. By 1:30, I was ready to return to my room. My feet hurt, I was tired, and I just wanted to sit. Even the squeaky, uncomfortable rocking chair would be better than more walking. Ryan and Dave decided they'd head to the waiting room rather than staring anxiously at me while I labored (or doing more of their own pacing, which Ryan did for the first few hours). My midwife had already decided to just let me be awhile so that she didn't get anxious to push me along.

So for two hours, it was just me and my amazing, wonderful, supportive husband and birth coach/partner. And on that note, let me make a brief aside (which is not aside at all, actually, but quite to the point). I could not have done ANY of this (surrogacy/pregnancy) without Luke. He has been my rock, my shoulder to lean on, my ice cream fetcher and sometimes my emotional punching bag, and he has borne it not only without complaint, but with constant support. But this labor and delivery? I REALLY could not have done it without him.

Luke let me crush his too-young-to-be-arthritic-but-still-arthritic fingers. He rubbed my back and squeezed my hips. He danced with me and listened to me sing (it helped me control my breathing). He didn't flinch when I didn't have it in me to be polite and instead just barked orders at him to do this, not that, no there, move here, etc.

At 3:30, Lee came to check my progress and determine what our next move would be. I think she was surprised to enter the room and find me in active pain management mode when 2 hours earlier, I was "too happy," still walking and smiling. They got me (begrudgingly) on the bed for a check, and I was dilated to 6 cm and completely effaced. The downside of this excellent news was that I was officially in "active labor" at this point, and as a VBAC, the hospital required that I be monitored continuously (they had just checked the heartbeat periodically up until then). So it was down onto the bed, strapped in to a contraction and heartbeat monitor.

I wasn't happy about staying in the bed, but it was probably the best thing. Having not slept well Sunday night, having labored for 5 hours with almost no food since breakfast, having spent a long time walking and generally expending more energy than I was used to, by this point, I was already exhausted, and in theory had a long way yet to go. I lay on my right side (I vaguely heard Lee tell the nurse that I was dilated a little unevenly anyway, and hopefully this would help) and zoned out. I gripped Luke and breathed/moaned through my contractions, falling into a weird doze/lucid dream state in between.

Most of my contractions, from the point that I had to start managing them onward, were really, well, manageable. I could handle the pain of my contracting uterus, I could ride the wave and stay on top of it, breathing it down and waiting for it to crash and subside. But every so often (Lee suspects it was possibly when the baby was shifting positions or descending), I would get hit with something painful and uneven and NOT manageable. These moments more than any other made me question my ability to go on, to keep fighting to do this my way.

I remember at some point that Ryan stuck his head in the room to see how it was going. Luke asked me if I wanted to say hi and I was so not interested. I was in my world, doing my thing. I think I may have scared them off. LOL! I also remember lying in bed, feeling a contraction start before the previous one had fully subsided, whimpering and whining, nauseous, saying "no, no, no, not yet, I'm not ready, I can't do this." I remember crying that I was hurting and I didn't want to hurt anymore. I remember Luke holding me and murmuring to me how amazing I was and how good I was doing. Shortly after that, Lee suggested I get up to empty my bladder (Get up?! How am I supposed to move?!). It took about three contractions just to get to the bathroom, because trying to move during them was almost laughable.

This was the point when I was done. I'm guessing it was around 4:30? But honestly, I have no idea. When I got up, I came out of my daze and felt how depleted I was. I had given all there was in me. I was exhausted. I was in pain. I didn't want to deal with any of it anymore; I just wanted to rest. Luke knew that I wanted to make every effort to birth naturally this time around. He also knows my limits. He told me that he thought I should ask for the epidural now, if they'd let me have it. I agreed, and we told Lee. She said she'd check me and then get the anesthesiologist.

But, as it turns out, I was fully dilated and "ready to push." Had I not been complete, had I been looking at several more hours of labor ahead, I would not feel any guilt over getting an epidural at that point. I told Luke afterward how glad I was that he had waited until that critical moment to make the epidural suggestion, because I would have done it pretty much whenever he suggested it. But he knows me, knows about birth, knew the difference between my pain management whining and my actually breaking down. He took excellent care of me, and I think he did exactly the right thing. There was just no way I had very much more in me.

As a person researching labor and birth, you hear a lot about transition. You hear about nausea, full-on puking, women at their breaking point, thinking they just can't do any more. You hear how awful and difficult that is. In retrospect, I can easily tell that the really tough period there was transition. Every contraction made me nauseous. They came without much break in between, and I just wanted it all to be over. But at the time, though the idea of transition crossed my mind, I was terrified of thinking "oh, this is transition, I'm almost there," and then being told I had made little to no progress. After all, it had only been about an hour or so!

Luke texted Ryan and Dave to let them know it was showtime, just about the time they were ready to peek in again to see how things were going. They were shocked to see that I was already getting ready to push.

Luke and Lee got me back in bed; I was completely back in the world of the living now, and I complained about the position (the standard, supine, "classic" pushing position), but Lee and my nurse (I knew her name at one point, but it's gone now) pretty much blew me off. They tried to get me to push, but I mostly just whined about how it hurt. The nurse told me to quit talking and push through the pain. No, no, it wasn't going to work. I didn't have it in me.

So the nurse suggested getting me on my left side to just labor through it until I felt the urge to push. (Let me tell you, pushing with no urge to push is pretty well impossible) This was an excellent idea, and almost as soon as I was in this position, I started feeling pushy. I just rode out a few contractions, letting my body do its thing, then asked if I could just push in that position. Lee said sure, so I did. She later told me that this was really the way to go, that she actually SAW the baby rotate and get into proper position to come out while I was lying there.

I'm not sure how long I pushed, overall, but I'm guessing it was something just over an hour, including the first failed attempts. I remember being really whiny (it's how I cope) and asking if anything was actually happening. I remember saying that I couldn't do it, and Lee said, "you have to! Otherwise, we'll just have to cut you open." She knows how to motivate a girl. Of course, Ryan believed me when I said I couldn't do it, and believed Lee when she said they'd have to section me. He told me later he was slightly panicked at that point. But right after that exchange, I WAS doing it, so he didn't have to worry for long.

Luke was, of course, amazing here, too. In fact, I'd say this is where he shined. He was a constant stream of comfort, telling me how great I was doing, holding my hand or my leg as necessary, assuring me that things really were happening. As I got closer and closer to actually delivering the baby, he told me it was almost over, and he knew because Lee was all dressed in blue and looked like she was about to catch a baby. LOL I caught a vague glimpse of the whole baby-catching setup at the foot of my bed, and I started to think maybe she would come out after all.

The hardest part of pushing, once I was ready to push, was NOT pushing. After she crowned, they kept telling me to back off, go slow, let things stretch. I kept saying, "what do I do, what do I do??" (Being completely without pain meds made pushing a whole different experience from what it had been with Jude. We had let my epidural wane by pushing with J, and I felt things, but it was duller, and more pressure than pain, though there was some pain. This was a whole lot of both.) I can't begin to express to you the amount of relief you feel hearing the words, "the head is out!" While Jude pretty much slid out after his head, I had to do a little bit more work this time. She cooperated well, though, and then there was a baby ON my belly instead of IN my belly.

HOLY CRAP, I did it. "There's a baby. There's a baby!" That's pretty much all I could get out, but I felt such an immediate sense of relief Thank the gods, it's over and pride I DID IT! and amazement at the little creature being scrubbed off. I looked over at Ryan and Dave and the tears streaming down their faces and could not have been more happy and filled with love. Dave came over to cut the cord, and I watched them all walk to the warmer. The guys hugged me in turn and thanked me profusely for giving their baby to them. While we waited for the delivery of the placenta, I directed Luke to take a picture with my phone so I could tell the Internet. :) He got a shot of a just-birthed baby and I posted it to Facebook and Twitter before I was technically done birthing (placenta delivery is considered a stage of labor).

I had no drugs, either for induction or pain relief, I had no cuts, no tears, no stitches. I was really lucky that everything progressed smoothly with just a small intervention, and I couldn't be happier about the end result.

---------------------------------------------

Danika C B, 8 lbs 12 oz and 21" of perfection, born May 16, 2011 at 5:44 p.m.

("Danika" means "morning star" in Czech, hence the title of this post)

And here I am, at 2:30 a.m., writing up my labor story. The story of the birth of not only a child, but a family. And I am so, SO proud of having been an integral part of the creation of both. I've been riding high for the past two days, unbelievably happy, feeling amazingly well physically, and yes, pretty tired. But I've also flipped back through my mental photo album of the past year and a half, from our match dinner to embryo transfers in LA, to dinners and doctor appointments, and now birth. It's been an amazing journey. Even further back, four years ago, I had this crazy idea that I'd like to help someone else make their family happen. To think that I went from a crazy idea (I was pregnant with Jude at the time) to actually following through on finding an agency, to going through the journey and having a baby - I tend to have big ideas that don't go anywhere and I am hugely proud of having followed through with this one.

I know that I'm not coherent now, but it's really difficult to express the huge pot of emotions I've been experiencing. So far, they're ALL positive emotions (I expect I'll develop some of the negative, hormonal ones once I am back to real life and its real stresses), and I am overwhelmed with love flowing in both directions from so many places - Ryan and Dave and their beautiful daughter, my own amazing family (Quentin and Jude were so excited to meet her!), and all of you who were there ready to cheer me on and virtually welcome this baby to the world.

My friend Kristy of Kristy Garceau Photography came over on Tuesday morning to take pictures of the happy family, and all of the "real" (aka not cell phone) pics here are her work. Isn't she amazing? Thanks, Kristy!

©2011 All Rights Reserved

Induction Day

2011-05-16T11:45:00.001-05:00

I knew I would need my rest last night. We ate an early dinner and were in bed by 9 p.m., preparing for a 5 a.m. wake-up call to take the kids to a friend's before meeting Dave and Ryan for breakfast near the hospital at 7. BUT of course, I was up every hour or two, wide awake, like a kid at Christmas.

Still, I didn't have too much trouble hopping out of bed and doing all of the last minute things (dressing the kids, throwing my phone charger into my bag, etc) and getting out the door by 6. We had breakfast at Egg Harbor Cafe at 7 and OMG was it ever yummy. My last meal as a gestational diabetic, I sure hope. Before we ate, the guys arrived with a happy "birth" day gift...

Something to celebrate the day, they said, and to help pass the time. :)

Once we got to the hospital, I got all dressed up and we smiled.

My water's been broken (that was less-than-fun, I'll say), and I've been walking the halls.

I'm having contractions regularly, but my midwife says I "look too happy." I'm resting my feet right now, then I'll walk some more before they give me a bit of pitocin (bah!) to kick things up a notch. I will admit I feel a little rushed - it's only been about an hour and a half, I'd guess, since they broke my water. Labor takes time! But I guess that's what you get for interventions - more interventions!

As long as we end up with a healthy baby, I'll be happy. If I end up with a cesarean, I'll still be happy about the healthy baby. :) But we're not going there. This is going to happen!

©2011 All Rights Reserved