Q:Can you talk about how you decided who would carry the baby and provide any details you feel comfortable sharing about the process for those of us who are considering the same path to familyhood?
Unfortunately, life made the decision of who would carry for us. Lacey is still on some heavy meds because of her Crohn’s and while we originally wanted her to carry first, it’s not an option right now. I always wanted to carry but I’m a little younger and thought I would go 2nd but life had other plans.
The only advice I can give is to do a lot of research before you dive in because it can get super overwhelming. Listen to your body and never let the doctors or nurses rush you. Ask as many questions as you need to so you feel comfortable. Find something that will help you manage the stress. Meditation, yoga, reading, a calming playlist. Something that will help calm the nerves and lower the blood pressure. It makes a huge difference in keeping your sanity. Oh and tons of communication with your partner. It’s a team effort!
Trying to get to work on time on Monday
Especially when you work on the east side during the UN General Assembly.
More than anything
Once again my wonderful wife is able to say everything I can’t.
Imagine there’s something you want more than anything in the world. You can’t buy it, but you have to spend a lot of money to even try and get it. And if you have a lot of money, it will make getting it more possible but regardless of how much you have, there is absolutely no guarantee. That is how valuable this is.
Now imagine that in order to get it you have to have test after test, some uncomfortable, some painful and some both. You will have to wake up early several days in order to go wait like cattle to be called to see if maybe, possibly, hopefully it’s your turn. You will get prodded and poked and prodded some more until finally it’s your shot—here you go! You hold your breath and you pray. It’s like flying off a cliff without a parachute. And you eat whatever the internet and your crazy aunt tells you to if you think it’ll possibly make your 20% odds increase even the slightest bit. You’ve never eaten so much pineapple in your life.
And now you wait. You wait for two whole weeks, fourteen entire days, three hundred and thirty six hours. The clock will never move so slowly in your life. You are incapable of thinking about anything else because all of your thoughts and hopes are wrapped in this. And you check for any sign, any small glimmer that there will be a happy end to this two week nightmare because you can’t imagine the idea of having to go through this anguish of waiting again, especially when you’ve been through it many times before. Once is enough, but with this, it’s almost always never enough.
And to top it off, you still have to work and be productive because your job is what’s given you the health insurance that’s partially covering the priceless process you’re going through. But how does one focus when everything you want is just within reach but entirely out of your control? And your doctor and the nurses and the experts all tell you not to stress but there’s hopes and dreams and money and lives all hinging on the hugest biology experiment of your existence. Tell me: How does one NOT stress in that situation? Each day brings new opportunities to second guess the signs you hope your body is showing. But here’s the catch-22: All the signs that signal the miracle you’re praying for are also many of the same signs of the death you’re simultaneously praying desperately to avoid.
Because in the end, if there isn’t a life, there’s a death. It’s the end of a non-existence, an immeasurable heartbreak, and the death of hope that all those things you did, all the incredible lengths you went to, all the advice you took was going to work and give you the thing you wanted more than anything in the world.
And suddenly everywhere you look you see others who didn’t fail and even some who are blessed to have many of what you’d do unspeakable things just to have one of. Days ago you might have looked at them as signs of good things to come, but now you’re resentful of the reminders of what wasn’t meant to be. When the hell will it be your turn? When will you get to post pictures of your growing little one? And more than anything you are ashamed and hate yourself for feeling this way.
But the deepest cut of all, the absolute cruelest part of all is that not only are you grieving what never was, but you’re cursed with a physical and visible constant reminder—a painful scarlet branding, if you will—of that failure for days after.
And, yet, somehow, some way, you have to find the strength, the courage, and the faith to do it all over again, to will yourself to put yourself through all of the insanity one more time because in the end, no matter how slight the chance or how Sisyphean the effort, it’s still what you want more than anything in the world.
Ok Fall. Bring it.
I have a mighty need for these pencils. Did a little reverse image searching and found the store. Go forth and purchase adorable office supplies with me.