Something has shifted; it’s all coming back to me now. Memories of the past flash in my mind, as I sit in the two week waiting period to find out if my surrogate Malissa is pregnant with one or both of the embryos that were transferred into her uterus last Friday. I am anxious, nervous, fearful, and hopeful of the results. It’s been a long journey to this place, five years of my body being poked and prodded, and three surrogates just to create a family of our own. That was written last July. I’m sitting at my kitchen table drinking my coffee while Jack and Fiona play with toys in the living room. Now I am raising children. I am a mother. I look back through the writing I did about my struggles with infertility. I was going to post one today. But I wasn’t ready, the works not ready. I need to revisit the experience. The years of trying, the fear, “Is my husband going to leave me because I can’t have a baby.” After every failed cycle, after the miscarriage, having to make the decision to try again or give up. Excruciating, mind bending, insomnia producing contemplations. Joining a meditation class at Kaiser and starting to see a therapist, then finding myself sitting on my meditation cushion wondering who I was. Actually scared, my mind unsure of anything. A facial twitch that turned me into a cyberchondriac, finding out all the diseases I could possibly have. Writing to my doctors every day to tell them my symptoms. I saw a neurologist and had an MRI. I just took a break from writing to change Fiona’s poopy diaper and play “I’m gonna get you” with Jack. I tiptoe over the cheerios, toast, and banana on the floor to get back to my computer. How life has changed. Those years of trying were very isolating. Some of the women in my life didn’t understand because they got pregnant easily, they already had children. Some of my friends said I shouldn’t keep trying, I shouldn’t have kids at all. I was embarrassed. I was ashamed and rarely told anyone what I was going through. I wanted to reach out to other women going through the same thing but couldn’t find them. I want to reach out to them now and offer some kind of comfort. But that’s not helpful, it’s not helpful to tell someone “Everything’s going to be O.K.” or “It will all work out for the best.” Or the worst, “It’s in God’s hands.” I can only tell my story. It wasn’t easy and I barely made it through the whole experience. It did turn out fine, I have two beautiful babies now, but that’s another thing someone going through infertility doesn’t want to hear about.
Category: infertility
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One year ago we were at Tahoe Forest Hospital, the night had been long. Jack nestled on my chest, I could hear the fluid in his lungs as he breathed. Fiona on Alan’s chest hooked up to an oxygen monitor, she had a lot more fluid. Malissa was in the next room recovering from a traumatic delivery. Although if you asked her she probably wouldn’t describe it like that. I can’t wait to see her, I ask the nurse is she OK? How is she feeling? The nurse, says she is fine and she is pumping to get the colostrum. Yesterday Malissa and Tom came to visit us. She walked in the door, gentle and sweet, we hug. Her husband has the same relaxed vibe. Jack and Fiona welcome the visitors. I will tell them they were carried for nine months in Malissa’s belly when they are old enough to understand. People always ask me, “isn’t is weird to let Malissa see the babies?” It’s not, we are very comfortable with the situation. She texted me this after they left: “Thanks Alan and Jenny! These are the times that make being a surrogate that much more rewarding. To see two healthy, happy, beautifully growing little kids and two happy wonderful parents. I couldn’t of asked for more. You are both doing an amazing job with your babies. Love you all! Thank you for sharing your family with us.” Malissa, Tom, and their kids feel like family to me. I love them. As Tom and Malissa left and walked down the stairs we saw him rub her back comforting her. Back in the kitchen Alan and I hug. We think how lucky we are to have found Malissa. While we were pregnant I read a lot on the internet about surrogacy, and was upset by how many people made comments about how if a woman can’t have a baby naturally that should be the end of it. People talked about how it was wrong to use a gestational carrier. I let that confuse me, I felt ashamed and didn’t tell anyone what I was doing, just a few of my closest friends. Malissa was always proud from the beginning. Her whole community was rooting for us. They supported her the whole way, cooking her meals and helping out however they could. I envy her close knit community. It’s a beautiful thing. It took ten years for my husband and me to have babies. Every new step we took that failed I was ready to quit. But we kept going, through fertility treatments, miscarriage, finally after two surrogates that didn’t work out we met Malissa. It didn’t work the first time and I was devastated. But we all decided we had to try one last time, and this was REALLY the last time. This is how Jack and Fiona came to us.
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The intuitive healer slid her hand under my tailbone and pressed on my stomach gently. She moved to the top of the table and cradled my head breathing deeply. I smelt something awful. I think it must be sewer or something dead under the floor boards. No, it’s coming from the healer, it’s her breath. I try to hold my breath so I won’t smell it. She finally moved to the bottom of the table and held onto my feet, “I see a being, it’s a boy” she said. “The spirit must be trapped in your face, that’s why your cheek is twitching. We need to move the spirit into your heart, focus on moving the energy into your heart.” For a brief moment I believed her. Is it the baby I’ve been so desperately trying to have, or is it one I’ve lost that I won’t let go of? But that thinking didn’t last long, I can’t wait to get out of here. The healer started to move back towards my face and pressed on my twitching cheek, oh no, I thought to myself, that smell, just hold your breath, don’t open your mouth, it’s almost over. “Today it’s $75” she said. “I offer a full intuitive healing session though you should come back for.” I gave her the $75 but felt ripped off and never went back.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 