One year ago today we stepped out of the surrogacy world and into the world of parenthood. Of course, you never really leave surrogacy behind. True once the baby is born, she's all your child, but surrogacy is a part of both of your life stories, and something that stays close to your heart.
One year ago today a beautiful little girl was born in Portland, Oregon, 4 hours away from our home in Washington because Washington does not allow compensated surrogacy. Unfortunately that has not changed.
One year ago today I gained a new title, "Mommy". The only title change I've ever had that might possibly compare with that was gaining the title of "Wife".
One year ago today Aaron and I went from knowing that there would be challenges in the first year to living those challenges entering a 6 month whirlwind of sleep deprivation, relationship stress, jaundice, croup, expenses, childcare, and more.
One year ago today Aaron and I went from knowing that there would be amazing moments in the first year to living those moments with the first smile, baby cuddles, crawling and walking, sloppy kisses, dancing stuffed animals, vacations and more.
One year ago today I thought that 8 pounds was a really heavy load to carry in my arms. Today I pick up 22 pounds with ease.
One year ago today I was secretly worried that my physical challenges would keep me from being a good parent. Today I know that being a good parent involves a lot more than perfect balance and typical muscle tone, that there are always ways to work around my differences, that the way most people do things doesn't necessarily make them the best way to do things, and that laughter and help from friends and family can overcome any shortcomings I may have physically.
One year ago today I dreamed of what my baby's personality might be. Today I see a spunky, determined toddler. She's a girl that loves to move move move, running, bouncing, climbing over and under, letting nothing stop her. She's got the healthiest appetite I've ever seen in a child her age, consuming her entire smash cake this evening. She possesses a deep belly laugh that is most easily triggered by her father or her puppy. Her curious mind has her scanning rooms and crowds intently, picking up every detail.
One year ago today I thought that there would be some surprises with having a baby, but that I was well prepared.
In the last year I have had scores of people rolling with laughter at my "mommy lessons"- status updates on Facebook archiving times when I the surprises were...well...very surprising.
One year ago today I swore I would never smell my daughter's bottom through her clothing, never say some things my mother said, and not let having a baby make me late to places. At this point I have done all of those things many, many, many times, and quite a few other things I swore I would never do.
One year ago today I never thought I would have a perfectly natural conversation about the bowel habits of our children over lunch. Yup. That happened too.
One year ago today I really thought we would never consider doing another surrogacy. Now we are seriously looking at it again.
One year ago today I didn't really didn't have any concept of the phrase "time flies". As I look at my one year old, I could swear that just yesterday she was a newborn. How can it be that she is one year old? I guess time flies.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
The End and the Beginning
When I started blogging I think I posted that I was inspired to blog by my friend Michael. He had begun blogging about his surrogacy journey, and, because of his blog, I decided to start my own blog. I'm SO thrilled to share that Michael's twins were born this morning at 3:37 and 3:41 in the SAME hospital where I was born. Yet another meeting point on our unique journey of meeting and re-meeting and re-meeting each other. I have to admit, when we got pregnant, after our second transfer, with our daughter my heart ached for Michael. He had already have 2 transfers (I think 2) at that point, and hadn't gotten pregnant. And he had started his journey several months before ours. It just didn't seem fair. Then again, in the world of fertility treatment, nothing is fair. I was actually a bit hesitant to tell him that we were pregnant. And yet, when I did, he was nothing but overjoyed for us. He was so gracious and excited. And a couple months later, his surrogate was pregnant with twins. We've shared so much of this journey together, tears over testing, frustrations and confusions over contract law, worries about how our babies are doing, joy at good news, and now thrills over the births of our children.
So this is the end of our surrogacy journey together. But it is the beginning of our journey as parents together. God knew exactly what I needed to make it through this process, a friend who could intimately understand everything I was going through, as he was going through the same things. And as He always does, the Lord provided my amazing friend Michael. I'm am so happy and excited for him! I know he is going to be a fabulous daddy. And, considering he had two sons, who knows, maybe our daughter may find a life long partner in one of them. Now wouldn't that be a crazy ending to this crazy journey?
So this is the end of our surrogacy journey together. But it is the beginning of our journey as parents together. God knew exactly what I needed to make it through this process, a friend who could intimately understand everything I was going through, as he was going through the same things. And as He always does, the Lord provided my amazing friend Michael. I'm am so happy and excited for him! I know he is going to be a fabulous daddy. And, considering he had two sons, who knows, maybe our daughter may find a life long partner in one of them. Now wouldn't that be a crazy ending to this crazy journey?
Sunday, January 29, 2012
The thing Nobody Talks About
I started Nobody Talks About with capital letters because I have always appreciated how A. A. Milne (author of the Winnie the Pooh books) capitalizes certain words in the middle of sentences when Pooh, or another character finds them especially meaningful. For example:
One of the reasons I started this blog is because fertility challenges are among those things that Nobody Talks About. And I've always been an open-communication-type person, of course, at the appropriate time. But some of the most important things in our lives, things that shape us, things that we need support around, things that are really tough to handle on our own are things Nobody Talks About. Death. Feeling depressed. Feeling alone. And not being able to have children the typical way. And sometimes the oppressive feeling that comes from not being able to talk about it is almost as awful as the thing itself. And the funny thing is, when you do talk about it, inevitably you find someone else who can relate and empathize or sympathize. And then the thing that felt So Huge and Burdensome is a bit easier to bear because someone else is bearing the load with you. Immediately after starting my blog I had 2 friends contact me who were dealing with their own fertility struggles. They'd never talked to anyone about it because it was one of those things Nobody Talks About.
The interesting thing is, this even happens in churches. And one would think that in church we should feel free to Let It All Hang Out. But we don't often. And for people struggling to have children, church can sometimes be a sad and lonely place. You look around and see so many happy families and pregnant women. And often times in pre-marriage counseling they remind you that one of the reasons God created marriage was for reproduction and Psalm 127:4-5 "Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them." And you're walking around with an empty quiver wondering why. And, after you've been married for about 3 years, well meaning people start asking things like, "So...are you thinking about starting a family?" And honestly you kind of want to slap them or scream at the top of your lungs, "YES! That's ALL we think about!" But you aren't supposed to do that, particularly in church, so you paste on a smile and say something non-committal like, "All in God's time." The interesting thing is, the bible talks about several "barren" women who longed for children, Hannah, Sarah, Rachel. But I've rarely heard a sermon about what it must have been like for those women to not be able to reproduce.
Today, Aaron and I went to a service dedicated to couples dealing with the challenges of infertility at Cedar Park Church, Presentation Sunday. Says their website:
As a couple who has struggled with having children for years, it was an amazing service to be at. Here were hundreds of couples willing to step forward and say, "Yes, we're struggling." And here was a church willing to acknowledge the pain of that struggle and come along side them. One of the things I appreciated was that there were no "promises." Yes, they said hundreds of babies had been born since they began having these services over 20+ years ago. And they had testimonies of people who had conceived after attending the service a previous year. But they acknowledged that there was no "one size fits all" solution. Some of the couples who shared testimonies talked about how they succeeded through embryo adoption, some through IVF, some through the "old-fashioned" way. They also welcomed people of all faiths, sharing that God blesses all. They also took away the stigma, shame and, of all the crazy things, guilt one can feel when they can't have children. Sometimes I know I felt like I had done everything in my power, and that maybe God was mad at me, or if I would just learn the lesson He wanted me to, then we would have a child. Those thoughts weren't from God, or things He would do. The church acknowledged that this is a far greater challenge, with up to 1 in 4 couples struggling to have children, than one might think.
Perhaps the best part was that they also "walked the walk." The church has its own Embryo Adoption Ministry where they match families who have embryos remaining after an IVF cycle with families who would like to adopt those embryos to start their own family. They also have a Foster Care ministry to help children who desperately need homes find them. And every summer the church sponsors and runs a week long camp called "Royal Family Kids Camp" for foster children with only a $25 registration fee, which can be waived.
Thank you Cedar Park, for spending an entire Sunday on the thing Nobody Talks About.
“When you see someone putting on his Big Boots, you can be pretty sure that an Adventure is going to happen.” Winnie the Pooh
One of the reasons I started this blog is because fertility challenges are among those things that Nobody Talks About. And I've always been an open-communication-type person, of course, at the appropriate time. But some of the most important things in our lives, things that shape us, things that we need support around, things that are really tough to handle on our own are things Nobody Talks About. Death. Feeling depressed. Feeling alone. And not being able to have children the typical way. And sometimes the oppressive feeling that comes from not being able to talk about it is almost as awful as the thing itself. And the funny thing is, when you do talk about it, inevitably you find someone else who can relate and empathize or sympathize. And then the thing that felt So Huge and Burdensome is a bit easier to bear because someone else is bearing the load with you. Immediately after starting my blog I had 2 friends contact me who were dealing with their own fertility struggles. They'd never talked to anyone about it because it was one of those things Nobody Talks About.
The interesting thing is, this even happens in churches. And one would think that in church we should feel free to Let It All Hang Out. But we don't often. And for people struggling to have children, church can sometimes be a sad and lonely place. You look around and see so many happy families and pregnant women. And often times in pre-marriage counseling they remind you that one of the reasons God created marriage was for reproduction and Psalm 127:4-5 "Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them." And you're walking around with an empty quiver wondering why. And, after you've been married for about 3 years, well meaning people start asking things like, "So...are you thinking about starting a family?" And honestly you kind of want to slap them or scream at the top of your lungs, "YES! That's ALL we think about!" But you aren't supposed to do that, particularly in church, so you paste on a smile and say something non-committal like, "All in God's time." The interesting thing is, the bible talks about several "barren" women who longed for children, Hannah, Sarah, Rachel. But I've rarely heard a sermon about what it must have been like for those women to not be able to reproduce.
Today, Aaron and I went to a service dedicated to couples dealing with the challenges of infertility at Cedar Park Church, Presentation Sunday. Says their website:
In commemoration of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple by Mary and Joseph 40 days after His birth, we have designated the last Sunday in January as Presentation Sunday. On that day, along with other churches around the world, we will be praying for couples who are desiring to have children, but have encountered difficulty in doing so.
As a couple who has struggled with having children for years, it was an amazing service to be at. Here were hundreds of couples willing to step forward and say, "Yes, we're struggling." And here was a church willing to acknowledge the pain of that struggle and come along side them. One of the things I appreciated was that there were no "promises." Yes, they said hundreds of babies had been born since they began having these services over 20+ years ago. And they had testimonies of people who had conceived after attending the service a previous year. But they acknowledged that there was no "one size fits all" solution. Some of the couples who shared testimonies talked about how they succeeded through embryo adoption, some through IVF, some through the "old-fashioned" way. They also welcomed people of all faiths, sharing that God blesses all. They also took away the stigma, shame and, of all the crazy things, guilt one can feel when they can't have children. Sometimes I know I felt like I had done everything in my power, and that maybe God was mad at me, or if I would just learn the lesson He wanted me to, then we would have a child. Those thoughts weren't from God, or things He would do. The church acknowledged that this is a far greater challenge, with up to 1 in 4 couples struggling to have children, than one might think.
Perhaps the best part was that they also "walked the walk." The church has its own Embryo Adoption Ministry where they match families who have embryos remaining after an IVF cycle with families who would like to adopt those embryos to start their own family. They also have a Foster Care ministry to help children who desperately need homes find them. And every summer the church sponsors and runs a week long camp called "Royal Family Kids Camp" for foster children with only a $25 registration fee, which can be waived.
Thank you Cedar Park, for spending an entire Sunday on the thing Nobody Talks About.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Announcing the Arrival.....
Making her grand debut fashionably late (4 days), Amelia Faith Yokoyama Keeney. Amelia because we like it, and there are so many fun nicknames for it, Faith for the faith required on this journey, Yokoyama for my Grandmother and her 3 sisters, and Keeney because Aaron insisted on it (I tried to go for Speeney, but I was outvoted ;>) and Sparks-Keeney, in addition to 2 middle names, would have been way to many bubbles for her to have to try and fill in every time she took a standardized test.
Mia was born at 6:25 pm on 12/6/11, weighing in at 8 lbs, 1 oz, and 20 1/1". Unfortunately, due to "Lisa" having a "negative" blood type, and Mia having a "positive" blood type (A+ in fact. Ha! She's already starting off as an A+ student!), she has what they call Rh related jaundice. It's beginning to clear up, but she's going to be in the hospital for a few days, comfortably sun tanning under bililights.
The story of her birth is amazing and I can't wait to write about it, however since I'm now going on 30 hours without sleep I'm going to wait until I can type an intelligible sentence!
Welcome to the world little one!
Mia was born at 6:25 pm on 12/6/11, weighing in at 8 lbs, 1 oz, and 20 1/1". Unfortunately, due to "Lisa" having a "negative" blood type, and Mia having a "positive" blood type (A+ in fact. Ha! She's already starting off as an A+ student!), she has what they call Rh related jaundice. It's beginning to clear up, but she's going to be in the hospital for a few days, comfortably sun tanning under bililights.
The story of her birth is amazing and I can't wait to write about it, however since I'm now going on 30 hours without sleep I'm going to wait until I can type an intelligible sentence!
Welcome to the world little one!
Saturday, November 26, 2011
A Love Letter to my Daughter
It has been said, "There are two lasting bequeaths we can give our children, one is roots, the other this wings." -Unknown
Here then, is something to fertilize her roots. May she always plant her feet in rich soil!
Welcome to the world little one....
You are the first born daughter, of the first of two daughters, who was born to an only daughter, who was born the the second of four daughters, who was born to the second of four daughters. You are the fifth generation in an unbroken line of powerful, wonderful, adventerous women. May the stories of your ancestors encourage you and strengthen you.
You are the great, great granddaughter of a man who ventured across the sea to seek his fortune as a laborer in a foregin land only returning to his nation of birth to marry, and then returned to his adopted nation for the remainder of his life.
You are the great, great granddaughter of woman who completed two years of college before the year 1900 and then journeyed across the vast Pacific Ocean, with a man whom she only met the day of their wedding, to a country whose language she didn't speak. In this land she would raise four daughters.
You are the great granddaughter of a woman who grew up nisei, born to parents from Japan, but American by birthright. This woman's country of birth, the only country she ever knew, would imprison her and her relatives during World War II for the "safety of the nation." When she and her husband left internment to farm for the government, she would cook extra food at lunchtime to feed the farm hands provided by the government, German POWs, believing that the meager rations the government provided the workers were not nearly enough.
You are the great grandaughter of a "country boy" who asked the "city girl" to marry him once a year, for 5 years, until she finally agreed. This country boy wished to leave internment so much that he agreed to move inland and farm for the government. The country boy learned the trade so well that when the war was over, he continued to farm, eventually becoming very successful. More than that, he shared his success with his community, allowing the community to buy stock in "Pronto Produce" that increased in value so much that many in the small town were able to send their children to college on that stock. This country boy believed passionately in education and was so generous in his contributions to the local community college that the campus conference center was eventually named after him.
You are the great granddaughter of a woman whose ancestory hailed from the Great Smokey Mountains, but raised her two children on an indian reservation in eastern Washington. Though impoverished, this woman invested love in her children and stretched a dollar far enough so that their bellies never went empty.
You are the great graddaughter of a man who spent a lifetime working the coal mines in eastern Washington. Although this man engaged in hard labor during the day, he loved to take his wife to the grange for weekly dances where he would sweep her into his arms, grasp her dainty hands in his rough, calloused palms and spin her 'round and 'round.
You are the great granddaughter of a woman who raised 8 children on her own, and then went on to assist and help raise their children when needed. This woman would learn computers very early on and go on to head a computer department at a community college well into her 80s.
You are the great granddaughter of a man who fought for the allies during World War II, hopping from island to island in the pacific arena, setting up radio towers as the US pushed forward. This man would go on to be known for the quirky inventions he created the rest of his life.
You are the great granddaughter of a woman who who met her husband while working as a cigarette girl at the Officers' Club in Spokane. This woman was known for making friends out of anyone, and her generosity towards those friends and her family. Christmases at her house were always a special occassion.
You are the granddaughter of a woman who was born while the government imprisoned all people of her ancestory on the West Coast and lived, as a baby, on a dirt floor. This woman became a teacher and could silence a class of 8th grader with just one look, which later also proved to be effective for motherhood. This woman is a connector of people; at your baby shower she had a friend she had known since 4th gradee, a friend from her freshman year in college, and many friend whom she had known for 30 years.
You are the granddaughter of a woman who met the man she married by asking coyly from the shore of a lake, "How's the water?" as he stood chest deep. This woman raised 3 boys while facing challenges in her own life. She overcame these challenges with bravery and tenacity, and discovered her amazing gift with dogs.
You are the granddaughter of a man who grew up on an indian reservation and was the only white child in his grade school. This man claims the didn't even really realize he was different for many years and wondered "why, when played cowboys and indians always had to be a cowboy." This man overcame an incredibly impoverished childhood to earn scholarships for college, becoming the first in his family to receive a college degree. He then went on for several more degrees. His compassion, kindness and love of family shines in all he does.
You are the granddaughter of a man who grew up as one of eight children, to a single mom. This man worked hard to support his family and became a skilled technitian. This man adores his current granddaughter and will adore you too.
You are the daughter of a man who became the first in his family to go to college. This kind man then went on to spend a year with little pay, working with the homeless in Los Angeles. His playful spirit, brilliant mind, and devotion to his family will make him an amazing father to you.
You are the daughter of a woman who danced at the happiest place on earth and across the ocean. This woman is known for bursting into joyful song at random moments, and drawing children and animals to her with just a smile.
Most of all, you are a daughter of the Lord God, who sent His son Jesus Christ to die on the cross for you. When none of your relatives can be near you, His loving spirit will be with you always. May His presence, and the stories of the generations before you, give you strength when you feel weak, courage when you feel afraid, the spirit of boldness when you feel timid, and a blanket of love when you feel alone.
Here then, is something to fertilize her roots. May she always plant her feet in rich soil!
Welcome to the world little one....
You are the first born daughter, of the first of two daughters, who was born to an only daughter, who was born the the second of four daughters, who was born to the second of four daughters. You are the fifth generation in an unbroken line of powerful, wonderful, adventerous women. May the stories of your ancestors encourage you and strengthen you.
You are the great, great granddaughter of a man who ventured across the sea to seek his fortune as a laborer in a foregin land only returning to his nation of birth to marry, and then returned to his adopted nation for the remainder of his life.
You are the great, great granddaughter of woman who completed two years of college before the year 1900 and then journeyed across the vast Pacific Ocean, with a man whom she only met the day of their wedding, to a country whose language she didn't speak. In this land she would raise four daughters.
You are the great granddaughter of a woman who grew up nisei, born to parents from Japan, but American by birthright. This woman's country of birth, the only country she ever knew, would imprison her and her relatives during World War II for the "safety of the nation." When she and her husband left internment to farm for the government, she would cook extra food at lunchtime to feed the farm hands provided by the government, German POWs, believing that the meager rations the government provided the workers were not nearly enough.
You are the great grandaughter of a "country boy" who asked the "city girl" to marry him once a year, for 5 years, until she finally agreed. This country boy wished to leave internment so much that he agreed to move inland and farm for the government. The country boy learned the trade so well that when the war was over, he continued to farm, eventually becoming very successful. More than that, he shared his success with his community, allowing the community to buy stock in "Pronto Produce" that increased in value so much that many in the small town were able to send their children to college on that stock. This country boy believed passionately in education and was so generous in his contributions to the local community college that the campus conference center was eventually named after him.
You are the great granddaughter of a woman whose ancestory hailed from the Great Smokey Mountains, but raised her two children on an indian reservation in eastern Washington. Though impoverished, this woman invested love in her children and stretched a dollar far enough so that their bellies never went empty.
You are the great graddaughter of a man who spent a lifetime working the coal mines in eastern Washington. Although this man engaged in hard labor during the day, he loved to take his wife to the grange for weekly dances where he would sweep her into his arms, grasp her dainty hands in his rough, calloused palms and spin her 'round and 'round.
You are the great granddaughter of a woman who raised 8 children on her own, and then went on to assist and help raise their children when needed. This woman would learn computers very early on and go on to head a computer department at a community college well into her 80s.
You are the great granddaughter of a man who fought for the allies during World War II, hopping from island to island in the pacific arena, setting up radio towers as the US pushed forward. This man would go on to be known for the quirky inventions he created the rest of his life.
You are the great granddaughter of a woman who who met her husband while working as a cigarette girl at the Officers' Club in Spokane. This woman was known for making friends out of anyone, and her generosity towards those friends and her family. Christmases at her house were always a special occassion.
You are the granddaughter of a woman who was born while the government imprisoned all people of her ancestory on the West Coast and lived, as a baby, on a dirt floor. This woman became a teacher and could silence a class of 8th grader with just one look, which later also proved to be effective for motherhood. This woman is a connector of people; at your baby shower she had a friend she had known since 4th gradee, a friend from her freshman year in college, and many friend whom she had known for 30 years.
You are the granddaughter of a woman who met the man she married by asking coyly from the shore of a lake, "How's the water?" as he stood chest deep. This woman raised 3 boys while facing challenges in her own life. She overcame these challenges with bravery and tenacity, and discovered her amazing gift with dogs.
You are the granddaughter of a man who grew up on an indian reservation and was the only white child in his grade school. This man claims the didn't even really realize he was different for many years and wondered "why, when
You are the granddaughter of a man who grew up as one of eight children, to a single mom. This man worked hard to support his family and became a skilled technitian. This man adores his current granddaughter and will adore you too.
You are the daughter of a man who became the first in his family to go to college. This kind man then went on to spend a year with little pay, working with the homeless in Los Angeles. His playful spirit, brilliant mind, and devotion to his family will make him an amazing father to you.
You are the daughter of a woman who danced at the happiest place on earth and across the ocean. This woman is known for bursting into joyful song at random moments, and drawing children and animals to her with just a smile.
Most of all, you are a daughter of the Lord God, who sent His son Jesus Christ to die on the cross for you. When none of your relatives can be near you, His loving spirit will be with you always. May His presence, and the stories of the generations before you, give you strength when you feel weak, courage when you feel afraid, the spirit of boldness when you feel timid, and a blanket of love when you feel alone.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
No News is Good News
I know it's been quite some time since I've blogged. Aaron and I have been traveling frequently this month and with the end of the semester I've had a lot of papers to grade and tests to score. Wanted to let everyone know our little girl is happy and healthy. At this point, as we get closer to the date, finding time to blog and chase down all my thoughts is getting increasingly difficult. However, I know people tend to get a bit worried without an update every now and then. Thus, so no one worries, I'm letting you all know I'm going to take a break from blogging for right now. Hopefully I'll be able to get back to it before she is born, but in the meantime, I'll be sending out e-mail updates. If you'd like to continue to receive e-mail updates, drop me an e-mail and I'll include you on short e-mails. :)
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Ergonomics of Baby Care
As all of you know, we're doing surrogacy because of my medical issues. And once the pregnancy got started, my medical challenges went on the back burner since I'm pretty stable. Yet now, as we're working on getting baby supplies and furniture and the like, challenges are starting to appear again. Not challenges with my body, mind you, but challenges with the world.
After our first foray into the world of baby gear, we've had a chance to catch our breath, regroup from the shock, and head out again. And the things I've found are pretty surprising.
It's actually fascinating to me, as I've begun to explore this, how few options there are for baby equipment and furniture for for parents with disabilities. I mean, I'm an Occupational Therapist. I should know how to find adaptive equipment and things to help people with differences in their daily activities, and, frankly, in some situations I'm stumped! I've searched internet sites for hours on end, and I'm really surprised that no company out there has designed products with accessibility in mind.
For me, a big challenge is weight. My spasticity and dystonia is triggered by weight. Now, there's not much I can do about the weight of our kiddo. Hopefully, as our daughter grows, so will my work capacity! But I am quite surprised at the weight of baby items out there, particularly car seats and strollers. Now, obviously car seats need to be structurally sound to keep a baby safe. Frankly, I'd use one made out of steel if it was the safest! But, one of the items that's quite popular today is the "travel system" type car seat and stroller. The idea is that you can leave the base of the car seat in your car, unhook the "seat part" of the car seat that the baby is sitting in, and place it in your stroller. It's a great idea, however, I believe one pays for the convenience with their bodies!
The car seat parts we've looked at, that come out of the base, weight between about 7.5 pounds up to 12 pounds. That doesn't seem too heavy, but then imagine automatically doubling the weight of them by placing a baby in the seat- and that's when the baby is small! If it were a weight, like a box or something, that people just picked up off the floor and put in a car trunk that might not be too bad. But have you seen the designs of baby carriers? They aren't simply "not ergonomic," they're a major health hazard to anyone who has to carry a child in one, whether the person has a physical challenge or not! There should be a warning labels- "Like your back? Enjoy using your hands? Then Flee from this product!" The handles are awkward and put strain on your wrists and there's no way the weight be centered against your body without carrying it sideways, potentially tossing the child out, which although designed restrain a child, I'm not about to test this. Thus every parent you see who carries one of these with a child in it is either hoisting it with both hands and leaning backwards so that their lumbar spines cry out for help, or holding it away from their bodies so that their arms and wrists beg for mercy. And while it may be difficult to put a baby in a car seat, babies and children are at least bendy and can be positioned to put the least amount of stress on a parent's body when being placed in a car seat. These convertible car carrier/seat things, however, are not bendy (which, as mentioned above, they shouldn't be) but the lack of pliability means that the parent needs to bend his or her body like a vehicular contortionist to place the seat in the base appropriately, particularly if it is placed in the center of the back seats, the safest place for it to be located. I challenge you, if you'd like to see bad body mechanics in action (and a bit of comedy!) pause the next time you are at a shopping mall and watch a mother or father attempt the famed "Single Armed, 45 degree, Baby Carrier Lift, with a Twist." It's a maneuver guaranteed to get at least a 8.5 from the Russian Judge. To get a perfect 10 watch for the same manuaver while adding in the daring "Trying to Corral the 3 year old Sibling and Prevent Him or Her From Running Out Into Traffic and Certain Death" element.
So all of my OT friends out there, I challenge you to find, design or adapt the baby products on the market. And if that doesn't work, I guess I'll just have to find them myself and open my own store.
After our first foray into the world of baby gear, we've had a chance to catch our breath, regroup from the shock, and head out again. And the things I've found are pretty surprising.
It's actually fascinating to me, as I've begun to explore this, how few options there are for baby equipment and furniture for for parents with disabilities. I mean, I'm an Occupational Therapist. I should know how to find adaptive equipment and things to help people with differences in their daily activities, and, frankly, in some situations I'm stumped! I've searched internet sites for hours on end, and I'm really surprised that no company out there has designed products with accessibility in mind.
For me, a big challenge is weight. My spasticity and dystonia is triggered by weight. Now, there's not much I can do about the weight of our kiddo. Hopefully, as our daughter grows, so will my work capacity! But I am quite surprised at the weight of baby items out there, particularly car seats and strollers. Now, obviously car seats need to be structurally sound to keep a baby safe. Frankly, I'd use one made out of steel if it was the safest! But, one of the items that's quite popular today is the "travel system" type car seat and stroller. The idea is that you can leave the base of the car seat in your car, unhook the "seat part" of the car seat that the baby is sitting in, and place it in your stroller. It's a great idea, however, I believe one pays for the convenience with their bodies!
The car seat parts we've looked at, that come out of the base, weight between about 7.5 pounds up to 12 pounds. That doesn't seem too heavy, but then imagine automatically doubling the weight of them by placing a baby in the seat- and that's when the baby is small! If it were a weight, like a box or something, that people just picked up off the floor and put in a car trunk that might not be too bad. But have you seen the designs of baby carriers? They aren't simply "not ergonomic," they're a major health hazard to anyone who has to carry a child in one, whether the person has a physical challenge or not! There should be a warning labels- "Like your back? Enjoy using your hands? Then Flee from this product!" The handles are awkward and put strain on your wrists and there's no way the weight be centered against your body without carrying it sideways, potentially tossing the child out, which although designed restrain a child, I'm not about to test this. Thus every parent you see who carries one of these with a child in it is either hoisting it with both hands and leaning backwards so that their lumbar spines cry out for help, or holding it away from their bodies so that their arms and wrists beg for mercy. And while it may be difficult to put a baby in a car seat, babies and children are at least bendy and can be positioned to put the least amount of stress on a parent's body when being placed in a car seat. These convertible car carrier/seat things, however, are not bendy (which, as mentioned above, they shouldn't be) but the lack of pliability means that the parent needs to bend his or her body like a vehicular contortionist to place the seat in the base appropriately, particularly if it is placed in the center of the back seats, the safest place for it to be located. I challenge you, if you'd like to see bad body mechanics in action (and a bit of comedy!) pause the next time you are at a shopping mall and watch a mother or father attempt the famed "Single Armed, 45 degree, Baby Carrier Lift, with a Twist." It's a maneuver guaranteed to get at least a 8.5 from the Russian Judge. To get a perfect 10 watch for the same manuaver while adding in the daring "Trying to Corral the 3 year old Sibling and Prevent Him or Her From Running Out Into Traffic and Certain Death" element.
So all of my OT friends out there, I challenge you to find, design or adapt the baby products on the market. And if that doesn't work, I guess I'll just have to find them myself and open my own store.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Who's on first? What's on second?
There's an old Abbott and Costello routine in which Abbott is talking about players on his baseball team, and Costello is having a hard time understanding him:
Costello: Look Abbott, if you’re the coach, you must know all the players.
Abbott: Right, certainly do.
Costello: Well, I never met the guys, so you’ll have to tell me their names, and
then I’ll know who’s playing on the team.
Abbott: Oh, I’ll tell you their names, but you know strange as it may seem, they
give these ball players now a days, very peculiar names.
Abbott: Well let’s see, we have on the bags, we have Who’s on first, What’s on
second, and I Don’t Know is on third.
Costello: That’s what I want to find out.
This goes on for quite some time, because the joke is that the name of the guy on first is "Who," the name of the guy on second is "What," and the name of the guy on third is "I don't know."
Much funnier to see/hear than read:
Here's a link on YouTube
I'm often reminded of this when we go to doctor's appointments with our surrogate. (As a tangent, those rooms are designed for 2-3 people, pregnant person, partner, and midwife or doctor. Imagine cramming our motley crew of 5 in one of them!) Our midwifery service has 9 midwives, so thus far we often have a new midwife. Imagine being the midwife walking into a situation with 2 women, 1 of whom is pregnant, and 2 men in the room. You can see the gears turning in their heads before they read the chart notes. They're trying to be polite, not ask outright, but I can see it cross their faces: Who's the mother? Which is the father? I don't know...oh, she's in the womb!
This got very tricky with something they call the "quad screen," which asks for all sorts of genetic information about the mother and father. But of course, in our case, this isn't the woman who is pregnant's genetic information, but our information. It's a good thing I was sitting next to the surrogate to help her out as she was filling out the paperwork as it is asking things like, "Is there a history of neural tube defects on the mother's side of the family? On the father's side?" and "Are their any genetic conditions on the mother's side of the family? On the father's side?" Naturally the paperwork assumes that the person who is pregnant is the mother. At one point I was glad I asked a question, "How is the risk factor for Down Syndrome and neural tube defects calculated from the information you collect?" Our midwife explained that it was based on the level of various proteins in the mother's blood (ummmm, hold on, no one took my blood, they took "Lisa's" blood), the results of the ultrasound, and the mother's age. Ok, time to do some sorting out. Is it the protein's the the person who's pregnant's blood, or the genetic mother? Turns out it's the person who is pregnant. OK then, is it the age of the person who is pregnant, or the age of the egg. Turns out it's the age of the egg. But there's no way in their computer system to explain that the age of the egg is different than the age of the person who is pregnant since it is assumed that the egg is the same age as the person who is pregnant. So calls were made to the lab and numbers recalculated. It didn't change much, but it reminds me that we can't take for granted that people who work with us in the hospital know our situation, and have taken that into account for every test. We have to think through every step to see if there's something that needs to be clarified.
Pretty soon we need to meet with our attorney to file a "judgement pro tem" explaining to the hospital and everyone who would possibly care that when the baby is born is is our child, not "Lisa's". Of course, from day 1, we've known this, and Lisa and "Linus" have known this, but the powers that be at the hospital don't legally know this, although by now our midwifery team does. We've got to have that piece of paper for when the child is born because otherwise the hospital assumes that the woman who gives birth to the child is the child's "mother," will make all decisions for the child, and will have the child go home with her. In our case, that's not true, but that's what the hospital will legally assume. And we all know what happens when you "ASSUME" something! ;)
This also changes rooming arrangements. Lisa can leave the hospital perhaps as early as 6 hours after the delivery, but particularly because we're going to be traveling to Seattle after the baby is born, the baby will stay a day or two. Which means that we'll have a postpartum room for the baby, even though I'm not postpartum. They usually keep the woman who has given birth and the baby in the labor and delivery room for about 2 hours and then go to the postpartum floor. In our case we may get 2 postpartum rooms, or they may keep Lisa in L&D a little bit longer and she can be discharged from there.
And, of course, the wonderful bureaucracy known as insurance is sure to be utterly stumped since they can't even seem to bill a standard primary care physician's visit correctly. Up until now, Lisa's insurance has covered the pregnancy, and will cover the delivery expenses and her care after delivery. But when the baby is born everything that she needs will be transferred to our insurance. Usually not a problem because the insurance company has seen all of the pregnancy bills and the delivery bills and it sorts itself out a week or so later when the baby gets her own insurance card. But what happens when we aren't even in the hospital's database system with our insurance information???
No matter how much prior preparation and planning we do, I'm pretty sure there's a bunch of things I haven't even thought of yet. And I'm the mother...but I'm not the pregnant person...but the egg is the same age as me...but the blood proteins are found in Lisa's blood....and now I'm totally confused. Oh yes:
Who's the mother. Which is the father. I don't know, she's in the womb.
Costello: Look Abbott, if you’re the coach, you must know all the players.
Abbott: Right, certainly do.
Costello: Well, I never met the guys, so you’ll have to tell me their names, and
then I’ll know who’s playing on the team.
Abbott: Oh, I’ll tell you their names, but you know strange as it may seem, they
give these ball players now a days, very peculiar names.
Abbott: Well let’s see, we have on the bags, we have Who’s on first, What’s on
second, and I Don’t Know is on third.
Costello: That’s what I want to find out.
This goes on for quite some time, because the joke is that the name of the guy on first is "Who," the name of the guy on second is "What," and the name of the guy on third is "I don't know."
Much funnier to see/hear than read:
Here's a link on YouTube
I'm often reminded of this when we go to doctor's appointments with our surrogate. (As a tangent, those rooms are designed for 2-3 people, pregnant person, partner, and midwife or doctor. Imagine cramming our motley crew of 5 in one of them!) Our midwifery service has 9 midwives, so thus far we often have a new midwife. Imagine being the midwife walking into a situation with 2 women, 1 of whom is pregnant, and 2 men in the room. You can see the gears turning in their heads before they read the chart notes. They're trying to be polite, not ask outright, but I can see it cross their faces: Who's the mother? Which is the father? I don't know...oh, she's in the womb!
This got very tricky with something they call the "quad screen," which asks for all sorts of genetic information about the mother and father. But of course, in our case, this isn't the woman who is pregnant's genetic information, but our information. It's a good thing I was sitting next to the surrogate to help her out as she was filling out the paperwork as it is asking things like, "Is there a history of neural tube defects on the mother's side of the family? On the father's side?" and "Are their any genetic conditions on the mother's side of the family? On the father's side?" Naturally the paperwork assumes that the person who is pregnant is the mother. At one point I was glad I asked a question, "How is the risk factor for Down Syndrome and neural tube defects calculated from the information you collect?" Our midwife explained that it was based on the level of various proteins in the mother's blood (ummmm, hold on, no one took my blood, they took "Lisa's" blood), the results of the ultrasound, and the mother's age. Ok, time to do some sorting out. Is it the protein's the the person who's pregnant's blood, or the genetic mother? Turns out it's the person who is pregnant. OK then, is it the age of the person who is pregnant, or the age of the egg. Turns out it's the age of the egg. But there's no way in their computer system to explain that the age of the egg is different than the age of the person who is pregnant since it is assumed that the egg is the same age as the person who is pregnant. So calls were made to the lab and numbers recalculated. It didn't change much, but it reminds me that we can't take for granted that people who work with us in the hospital know our situation, and have taken that into account for every test. We have to think through every step to see if there's something that needs to be clarified.
Pretty soon we need to meet with our attorney to file a "judgement pro tem" explaining to the hospital and everyone who would possibly care that when the baby is born is is our child, not "Lisa's". Of course, from day 1, we've known this, and Lisa and "Linus" have known this, but the powers that be at the hospital don't legally know this, although by now our midwifery team does. We've got to have that piece of paper for when the child is born because otherwise the hospital assumes that the woman who gives birth to the child is the child's "mother," will make all decisions for the child, and will have the child go home with her. In our case, that's not true, but that's what the hospital will legally assume. And we all know what happens when you "ASSUME" something! ;)
This also changes rooming arrangements. Lisa can leave the hospital perhaps as early as 6 hours after the delivery, but particularly because we're going to be traveling to Seattle after the baby is born, the baby will stay a day or two. Which means that we'll have a postpartum room for the baby, even though I'm not postpartum. They usually keep the woman who has given birth and the baby in the labor and delivery room for about 2 hours and then go to the postpartum floor. In our case we may get 2 postpartum rooms, or they may keep Lisa in L&D a little bit longer and she can be discharged from there.
And, of course, the wonderful bureaucracy known as insurance is sure to be utterly stumped since they can't even seem to bill a standard primary care physician's visit correctly. Up until now, Lisa's insurance has covered the pregnancy, and will cover the delivery expenses and her care after delivery. But when the baby is born everything that she needs will be transferred to our insurance. Usually not a problem because the insurance company has seen all of the pregnancy bills and the delivery bills and it sorts itself out a week or so later when the baby gets her own insurance card. But what happens when we aren't even in the hospital's database system with our insurance information???
No matter how much prior preparation and planning we do, I'm pretty sure there's a bunch of things I haven't even thought of yet. And I'm the mother...but I'm not the pregnant person...but the egg is the same age as me...but the blood proteins are found in Lisa's blood....and now I'm totally confused. Oh yes:
Who's the mother. Which is the father. I don't know, she's in the womb.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
The verdict is in.....
And it seems that I will have a lot more time to mull over gender roles and the shaping of gender identity and expectations by cultural influences because we are going to have....a girl!
The ultrasound was just beautiful. It's so intricate. The details of the anatomy: the perfect spinal column, all 4 chambers of the heart working with the valves, the individual metacarpals, metatarsals and phalanges. The mouth opening and closing as if to say, "Hi! Here I am!". The little hand waving back and forth and opening and closing. Truly amazing.
I, personally, am thrilled. My daughter comes from an amazing heritage of brave, strong, intelligent women, particularly on my maternal side. Her great-great grandmother, the second daughter of four daughters born to the mayor of her village in Japan, sailed across the pacific ocean at the turn of the 20th century to become a picture bride to a man she'd never met. Her great grandmother, also the second of four sisters, left an American internment camp with her husband, during world war II, to farm for the government that imprisoned them. While her husband oversaw German POWs working in his fields, this woman cooked extra food at lunch so that all would have enough to eat. Her grandmother broke the color line for her sorority nationally, and went on to break the color line in a school district in the Midwest as an English teacher. And then there's me, her mother, who has had all sorts of adventures. Aaron said he knew it was a girl from the minute he found out that the baby was kicking the surrogate when she was in a position the baby didn't like. It's not a Yokoyama-woman trait to sit on the sidelines. ;)
Now I really feel as if the pressure is on to get ready. The baby's room, until now, has been the room in our house that we toss stuff into when we're not sure what to do with it. And, to be completely transparent, it's mostly my stuff! So the rest of the day will be spent cleaning that room out.
Aaron and I have been holding off on name discussions until now. We quickly realized we had some strong opinions on names, and decided that there wasn't any point in arguing the finer points of one name over another when half of the names we would argue over wouldn't even matter. So now it's time to get into heated name discussions.
After Friday's ultrasound the reality very much set in. We're going to have a baby! It's going to be a girl! And we've got to get our rears in gear and prepare!!!!!
The ultrasound was just beautiful. It's so intricate. The details of the anatomy: the perfect spinal column, all 4 chambers of the heart working with the valves, the individual metacarpals, metatarsals and phalanges. The mouth opening and closing as if to say, "Hi! Here I am!". The little hand waving back and forth and opening and closing. Truly amazing.
I, personally, am thrilled. My daughter comes from an amazing heritage of brave, strong, intelligent women, particularly on my maternal side. Her great-great grandmother, the second daughter of four daughters born to the mayor of her village in Japan, sailed across the pacific ocean at the turn of the 20th century to become a picture bride to a man she'd never met. Her great grandmother, also the second of four sisters, left an American internment camp with her husband, during world war II, to farm for the government that imprisoned them. While her husband oversaw German POWs working in his fields, this woman cooked extra food at lunch so that all would have enough to eat. Her grandmother broke the color line for her sorority nationally, and went on to break the color line in a school district in the Midwest as an English teacher. And then there's me, her mother, who has had all sorts of adventures. Aaron said he knew it was a girl from the minute he found out that the baby was kicking the surrogate when she was in a position the baby didn't like. It's not a Yokoyama-woman trait to sit on the sidelines. ;)
Now I really feel as if the pressure is on to get ready. The baby's room, until now, has been the room in our house that we toss stuff into when we're not sure what to do with it. And, to be completely transparent, it's mostly my stuff! So the rest of the day will be spent cleaning that room out.
Aaron and I have been holding off on name discussions until now. We quickly realized we had some strong opinions on names, and decided that there wasn't any point in arguing the finer points of one name over another when half of the names we would argue over wouldn't even matter. So now it's time to get into heated name discussions.
After Friday's ultrasound the reality very much set in. We're going to have a baby! It's going to be a girl! And we've got to get our rears in gear and prepare!!!!!
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Pink or Blue...But What Ever Happened to Red?
So tomorrow's the "big" day, the day we have the ultrasound that will tell us if our child is a boy or a girl. Of course, along the way we've learned that what is supposed to happen on a particular day isn't always what happens. So, if the ultrasound doesn't show the gender, I guess we'll just wait for another little bit.
All along this journey people have been asking us when we'll find out if it's a boy or a girl, or if we want a boy or a girl, or if we have boy names and girl names picked out. When we went to Babies R Us I was honestly shocked at how "genderized" everything is. Out of all the crib bedding and whatnot there was only 1 that I would consider gender neutral. All of the others seemed to scream BOY or GIRL. Boy or girl, boy or girl, that's the big question. That's how one chooses how to decorate a nursery. That's how one chooses which clothing to pick. That even determines how people react to the baby. Let's say you dress a baby in as "gender neutral" clothing as you can, maybe jeans and a red t-shirt. If you tell people the baby is a girl, automatically you hear comments of, "Oh isn't she precious looking?" and "How beautiful!" Take the same child and tell people it's a boy and the comments become "Look at how strong he is!" and "Isn't he a flirt!" From the very beginning the child gets treated a certain way based on their gender.
There was an interesting article lately about a couple in Canada who has a child named "Storm." They have decided that, for the time being, they aren't going to tell anyone the child's gender. Storm will just be Storm. And people can react how they see fit. And this is causing an uproar. People like to know gender. It very quickly gears a person's thinking towards gifts for a child, or clothes for a child, or even for the phrases one uses with a child. A child without a known gender is uncomfortable. I'm not saying that I agree with rasing a child without sharing his or her gender, but it certainly is an interesting experiment.
I remember when a relative had a child born with undifferentiated genitalia. Even the doctors at the hospital had a hard time wrapping their heads around that one. Pink cap or blue cap? Baby Boy ____ or Baby Girl ____ for the name plate? Until the DNA results came back there was quite a bit of befuddlement, even from the medical professionals.
I wonder about how our children pick up ideas on gender roles and how different genders are supposed to behave. Several of our favorite family stories revolve around use of the iron in our household as we were growing up. You see, dad did all the ironing. I'm pretty sure my mom knows how to iron, but it was always dad who did it. It was mostly his work shirts that needed ironing and he liked it a certain way, so he ironed. As a teenager, if I needed something ironed I went to my father, not to my mother. So anyhow, the first story begins with me watching my father very closely, when I was around 4 years old. I mean, I was staring at him intently as he ironed one day. And dad, with his infinite patience, just waited until I was ready to ask my question. I took a deep breath and asked with all the seriousness a 4 year old can muster, "Daddy, can girls iron?" And my father, in his infinite wisdom replied, "Why yes, girls can iron. They can do they laundry and do the dishes. They can be doctors or nurses, lawyers or astronauts. Girls can do anything they want to." Several years down the road, I was about 6 and my sister was 3. We were playing in the family room, and, for some reason, mom was doing some ironing. The way she tells it, we were playing, and then all of a sudden we were very quiet. She looked up, and we were both looking at her wide-eyed. At that point I asked, "Mommy, does Daddy know you're using HIS iron?" It wasn't just ironing, when it came to childrearing and housekeeping both of my parents pitched in. Some of my favorite meals didn't taste right unless my father cooked them.
Then I contrast this with a statement another little relative made when she was about 3 years old. "I ONLY want to wear dresses. Pants are ugly! Dresses are pretty!" The thing is, both of her parents tried to raise her as "gender neutral" as possible. They dressed her in all sorts of clothing and colors. They both pitched in around the house. Her mom, while beautiful, hardly ever wore dresses or skirts. Mostly she wore jeans. So where did this little one get the idea that dresses were what was pretty and should be worn? They didn't even have cable in their house, so it wasn't like she watched a lot of tv. But somewhere she got that message and took it into her little heart. That was in about 2006. And, as much as I hate to say it, things have changed since I was a little girl, and I'm not sure that they are for the better.
Lately it seems like the "princess" concept has taken off everywhere. It used to be one just saw little girls dressed as princesses at Disney theme parks, and now they are all over the place. OK, here's my disclaimer. If you know me, you know I LOVE Disney! I worked there in entertainment for goodness sakes', embodying all of the things I'm about to have an issue with. So yes, there is a bit of me that is a hypocrite, but honestly I think there's just more of me that's plain old confused. Until 2000 Disney had never marketed the "Princesses" outside of their story lines. Whenever a Princess was seen on a shirt it was in the context of her story, eg: Snow White was always with the 7 dwarves, Sleeping Beauty was always with the 3 fairies, etc. Then, in 2000, after realizing how many little girls came to the parks dressed in homemade Princess costumes, Disney began the "Princess" brand and line. The big 5 princesses (Belle, Snow White, Cinderella, Aurora and Ariel) suddenly began appearing on t-shirts and sweatshirts all over the place. Specific princess costumes for girls were developed and sold in the parks and in Disney Stores. And little girls and their families ate it up. (I'm in the process of reading a very thought provoking book: Cinderella Ate My Daughter. definitely worth the read). Suddenly little girls were princessed up all over the place. And the concept has exploded. Yes, there's Captain Hook and Peter Pan, Buzz Lightyear and Woody, but not nearly to the extent of the princesses.
So here's my thing, and here's where I struggle. The princesses aren't exactly the best role models that I want for my daughter. Most of them (Cinderella, Belle, Ariel) have absentee mothers. Those that do have mothers have Wicked Stepmothers. A good number of them disobey their parent (Mulan, Ariel). And, as I see it, most damaging, most of them get into trouble or find themselves in trouble and instead of solving the situation themselves they require rescuing from a man. Cinderella needs the prince to rescue her, which he only does after she was all gussied up for a ball. Belle, who is a reader which I appreciate, needs Beast to fall in love with her to give her her freedom. Ariel, maybe the worst offender, gives up her VOICE of all things, to get a man to like her. Snow white needs a prince's kiss to save her. And on and on. It's also notable that the big 5 princesses are all white. So much for Pocahontas, Jasmine, Mulan and Tiana. Rarely are they included on any princess merchandise with the others. It's hard to find merchandise featuring them alone. But I LOVE DISNEY! So how the heck do I reconcile this? I guess it's watching movies with your children, male or female, and then talking about what you see and notice; the good and bad choices the characters make along the way.
I also think the "princess" theme tends to limit creative play instead of encourage it. When we were younger we played house and school and going to the zoo, and horses and some game one of my best friends and I invented with a flying machine in her back yard (which was actually a really cool tree) all sorts of other pretend scenarios. The thing about playing "princess" is that rather than using their imaginations, children act out the scripts they know. There is a formula to princess play that isn't as open ended as school or house. Dress up and pretend play iis great for kids, wonderful for their imaginations and necessary for psychosocial development. But when the script is already written, how much of it is pretend play and how much of it is regurgitation?
I'm sure if I thought it through I could come up with similar cultural influences on boys: video games, sports, etc. But I'm most familiar with girls because, well, I am one. And, to me, it seems like maybe we've lost some of the gains we had before. Try and find tops for girls that aren't pink and glittery. Try to find baby gear that doesn't scream BOY or GIRL. Try to find any nursery theme that isn't almost all pink with hearts and butterflies or blue with sports balls or trains. I wish I could find more in the middle ground. But it's very, very difficult.
So tomorrow we find out the gender of our child. And the thing that I hope Aaron and I always remember to keep at the forefront as we parent is that boy or girl, what is most important is that we help our child discover his or her unique God-given qualities, some of which may be gender related, but, I suspect, much of which has nothing to do with his or her gender, and nuture those qualities for what they are. That we think outside of the box the marketing executives and clothing designers attempt to build around the genders, and help our child to find who he or she is, the way he or she was created by God, and to believe in that and trust that.
All along this journey people have been asking us when we'll find out if it's a boy or a girl, or if we want a boy or a girl, or if we have boy names and girl names picked out. When we went to Babies R Us I was honestly shocked at how "genderized" everything is. Out of all the crib bedding and whatnot there was only 1 that I would consider gender neutral. All of the others seemed to scream BOY or GIRL. Boy or girl, boy or girl, that's the big question. That's how one chooses how to decorate a nursery. That's how one chooses which clothing to pick. That even determines how people react to the baby. Let's say you dress a baby in as "gender neutral" clothing as you can, maybe jeans and a red t-shirt. If you tell people the baby is a girl, automatically you hear comments of, "Oh isn't she precious looking?" and "How beautiful!" Take the same child and tell people it's a boy and the comments become "Look at how strong he is!" and "Isn't he a flirt!" From the very beginning the child gets treated a certain way based on their gender.
There was an interesting article lately about a couple in Canada who has a child named "Storm." They have decided that, for the time being, they aren't going to tell anyone the child's gender. Storm will just be Storm. And people can react how they see fit. And this is causing an uproar. People like to know gender. It very quickly gears a person's thinking towards gifts for a child, or clothes for a child, or even for the phrases one uses with a child. A child without a known gender is uncomfortable. I'm not saying that I agree with rasing a child without sharing his or her gender, but it certainly is an interesting experiment.
I remember when a relative had a child born with undifferentiated genitalia. Even the doctors at the hospital had a hard time wrapping their heads around that one. Pink cap or blue cap? Baby Boy ____ or Baby Girl ____ for the name plate? Until the DNA results came back there was quite a bit of befuddlement, even from the medical professionals.
I wonder about how our children pick up ideas on gender roles and how different genders are supposed to behave. Several of our favorite family stories revolve around use of the iron in our household as we were growing up. You see, dad did all the ironing. I'm pretty sure my mom knows how to iron, but it was always dad who did it. It was mostly his work shirts that needed ironing and he liked it a certain way, so he ironed. As a teenager, if I needed something ironed I went to my father, not to my mother. So anyhow, the first story begins with me watching my father very closely, when I was around 4 years old. I mean, I was staring at him intently as he ironed one day. And dad, with his infinite patience, just waited until I was ready to ask my question. I took a deep breath and asked with all the seriousness a 4 year old can muster, "Daddy, can girls iron?" And my father, in his infinite wisdom replied, "Why yes, girls can iron. They can do they laundry and do the dishes. They can be doctors or nurses, lawyers or astronauts. Girls can do anything they want to." Several years down the road, I was about 6 and my sister was 3. We were playing in the family room, and, for some reason, mom was doing some ironing. The way she tells it, we were playing, and then all of a sudden we were very quiet. She looked up, and we were both looking at her wide-eyed. At that point I asked, "Mommy, does Daddy know you're using HIS iron?" It wasn't just ironing, when it came to childrearing and housekeeping both of my parents pitched in. Some of my favorite meals didn't taste right unless my father cooked them.
Then I contrast this with a statement another little relative made when she was about 3 years old. "I ONLY want to wear dresses. Pants are ugly! Dresses are pretty!" The thing is, both of her parents tried to raise her as "gender neutral" as possible. They dressed her in all sorts of clothing and colors. They both pitched in around the house. Her mom, while beautiful, hardly ever wore dresses or skirts. Mostly she wore jeans. So where did this little one get the idea that dresses were what was pretty and should be worn? They didn't even have cable in their house, so it wasn't like she watched a lot of tv. But somewhere she got that message and took it into her little heart. That was in about 2006. And, as much as I hate to say it, things have changed since I was a little girl, and I'm not sure that they are for the better.
Lately it seems like the "princess" concept has taken off everywhere. It used to be one just saw little girls dressed as princesses at Disney theme parks, and now they are all over the place. OK, here's my disclaimer. If you know me, you know I LOVE Disney! I worked there in entertainment for goodness sakes', embodying all of the things I'm about to have an issue with. So yes, there is a bit of me that is a hypocrite, but honestly I think there's just more of me that's plain old confused. Until 2000 Disney had never marketed the "Princesses" outside of their story lines. Whenever a Princess was seen on a shirt it was in the context of her story, eg: Snow White was always with the 7 dwarves, Sleeping Beauty was always with the 3 fairies, etc. Then, in 2000, after realizing how many little girls came to the parks dressed in homemade Princess costumes, Disney began the "Princess" brand and line. The big 5 princesses (Belle, Snow White, Cinderella, Aurora
So here's my thing, and here's where I struggle. The princesses aren't exactly the best role models that I want for my daughter. Most of them (Cinderella, Belle, Ariel) have absentee mothers. Those that do have mothers have Wicked Stepmothers. A good number of them disobey their parent (Mulan, Ariel). And, as I see it, most damaging, most of them get into trouble or find themselves in trouble and instead of solving the situation themselves they require rescuing from a man. Cinderella needs the prince to rescue her, which he only does after she was all gussied up for a ball. Belle, who is a reader which I appreciate, needs Beast to fall in love with her to give her her freedom. Ariel, maybe the worst offender, gives up her VOICE of all things, to get a man to like her. Snow white needs a prince's kiss to save her. And on and on. It's also notable that the big 5 princesses are all white. So much for Pocahontas, Jasmine, Mulan and Tiana. Rarely are they included on any princess merchandise with the others. It's hard to find merchandise featuring them alone. But I LOVE DISNEY! So how the heck do I reconcile this? I guess it's watching movies with your children, male or female, and then talking about what you see and notice; the good and bad choices the characters make along the way.
I also think the "princess" theme tends to limit creative play instead of encourage it. When we were younger we played house and school and going to the zoo, and horses and some game one of my best friends and I invented with a flying machine in her back yard (which was actually a really cool tree) all sorts of other pretend scenarios. The thing about playing "princess" is that rather than using their imaginations, children act out the scripts they know. There is a formula to princess play that isn't as open ended as school or house. Dress up and pretend play iis great for kids, wonderful for their imaginations and necessary for psychosocial development. But when the script is already written, how much of it is pretend play and how much of it is regurgitation?
I'm sure if I thought it through I could come up with similar cultural influences on boys: video games, sports, etc. But I'm most familiar with girls because, well, I am one. And, to me, it seems like maybe we've lost some of the gains we had before. Try and find tops for girls that aren't pink and glittery. Try to find baby gear that doesn't scream BOY or GIRL. Try to find any nursery theme that isn't almost all pink with hearts and butterflies or blue with sports balls or trains. I wish I could find more in the middle ground. But it's very, very difficult.
So tomorrow we find out the gender of our child. And the thing that I hope Aaron and I always remember to keep at the forefront as we parent is that boy or girl, what is most important is that we help our child discover his or her unique God-given qualities, some of which may be gender related, but, I suspect, much of which has nothing to do with his or her gender, and nuture those qualities for what they are. That we think outside of the box the marketing executives and clothing designers attempt to build around the genders, and help our child to find who he or she is, the way he or she was created by God, and to believe in that and trust that.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Our Journey to the Mothership
About a month ago I was talking to someone and telling her that in a lot of ways I feel like this blessed journey towards motherhood feels more like completing a checklist than preparing to welcome a new member of our family and embracing all the change that comes with it-
1) Find Agency- Check!
2) Find Surrogate- Check!
3) Go through fertility treatments- Check!
4) Achieve Pregnancy- Check!
5) Go to appointments- Check!
Of course, perhaps if I sat down to really consider how much this was going to change our lives forever I might be completely paralyzed! All right, not really, but people keep squealing and asking me "Aren't you soooooooo excited?!?!?!?!?" Well, yes, we're excited, but again, sometimes it feels more like a dot to dot puzzle, and when we finally connect all the dots, viola! Baby! In the meantime, we sort of bide our time between the dots, or wipe our brow with a "Whew! Check that one off the list!" I had wondered if that was part of it being a surrogacy or part of my personality or what, however, several friends who have been pregnant tell me that they can identify with that feeling, even though they were carrying their own child. It wasn't until the baby was placed in their arms that it all became real. I do think part of it, for me anyway, has to do with conceiving a child with medical treatments. They give you a calendar, you inject yourself with your specific drug cocktail every day, you visit the doctor every other day, or daily and on and on. It's not the miracle of making love with your spouse over a period of time and then one day peeing on a stick and seeing the plus sign. It is calculated and prescribed. So I was musing this over with someone and that person asked me, "What would make it feel real to you? What would make you feel your heart beat a little faster, and your anticipation grow? What would help you find the joy?" I thought for a moment, and then said, "Well, I guess decorating the baby's room." After all, if there's a place to put the baby, then it stands to reason that it would seem more real, right? And I like decorating and creativity.
Thus, a couple weekends ago Aaron and I journeyed to the mothership, the mecca of babyhood, the icon of infant idolatry...BABIES R US (you have to say that in your mind with a big, booming, echoy voice to get the effect that Aaron and I felt when we walked in the door). "Holy _____ (insert word of your choosing depending on how colorful your vocabulary is and it will suffice)", we thought. The size of half a target, all dedicated to apparently "necessary" items that people under age 3 or 4 need. We stumbled over to the Baby Registry counter, mouthes gaping open and pupils dialated, gave our information, and, although we insisted we were just going to look, were given what Aaron kept referring to as "the phaser" with the admonishment (in a perky, but maternal way), "You may say you're just going to look, but you should start marking whatever you think you might possibly be interested in, because you can always change it and add to it online or when you come into the store." Um. Okay. And then we were handed THE LIST.
THE LIST was a list of more than 200 item "MUST HAVES" for your registry checklist. Now, I was pretty little when my sister was born, but as far as I can remember we had diapers, bottles, an umbrella stroller, a crib, some clothes, a playpen, and pacifiers that we both refused to suck on. And that was about it...and we turned out ok. And then there was my mother. When she was born the Japanese had just been "evacuated" from the West Coast during World War II and "relocated" to internment camps. I think if she was lucky, she had diapers. No crib or stroller or anything like that...and she turned out ok. And I'm looking at THE LIST of 200+ items thinking, "Why the heck to babies need to have 200+ items these days???" I mean, they haven't changed much. Developmental progression is still the same as it has been for thousands of years. But Aaron and I were on a mission, to "find the joy" and "make it real" so we gamely waded in.
Ok, we more than waded in. We jumped in with both feet. We looked at cribs, strollers, carseats, high chairs, bottles and only God remembers what else. I've got enough material from this one journey practically for its own blog, or at least several entries, but to keep this entry manageable I'll limit it to the stroller section. Remember me, umbrella stroller kid? Well things have changed! There are Travel Systems, lightweight strollers, jogging strollers, full-sized strollers, activity strollers, double and triple strollers, stroller accessories, stroller gear, and on and on and on. And remember me, umbrella stroller kid? As we glanced down the aisle our eyes got bigger and bigger. But we are not ones to let a small sojourn to Babies R Us get the best of us, nay nay! So we jumped in with relish to test them out and decide what would work for our munchkin. And 30 minutes later we were just as baffled as when we started. Just when you think you've got one figured out, you move on to the next and it folds differently and its wheels lock differently and, if it's a "travel system" the carseat fits in differently. After spending an hour in the strollers aisle we were beat. We briefly explored other aisles of the store, but finally hit the wall staring down the bottle aisle. 10+ different brands, each with multiple sizes, nipples, shapes cleaning systems and other accoutrement did us in.
Overall our first foray lasted around 2 hours. And yes, we did experience "joy" and the "reality" definitely hit us. I've now enlisted 2 experienced moms to go back with me to help me figure out exactly what we really do need (which I coming to believe is very little of the list of necessary items) and the ins and outs of strollers. Nonetheless, the consumerism of "baby" everything everything was a bit mind blowing. Thus, about a week later, when I was ready to journey out again, I did so on my own terms and at my own pace. I went to a great consignment store near my house, and found a fabulous, like-new changing table for about 25% of retail cost. Now THAT (taking care of my child, taking care of our resources, and taking care of the planet by reusing things), to me, is finding my joy!
1) Find Agency- Check!
2) Find Surrogate- Check!
3) Go through fertility treatments- Check!
4) Achieve Pregnancy- Check!
5) Go to appointments- Check!
Of course, perhaps if I sat down to really consider how much this was going to change our lives forever I might be completely paralyzed! All right, not really, but people keep squealing and asking me "Aren't you soooooooo excited?!?!?!?!?" Well, yes, we're excited, but again, sometimes it feels more like a dot to dot puzzle, and when we finally connect all the dots, viola! Baby! In the meantime, we sort of bide our time between the dots, or wipe our brow with a "Whew! Check that one off the list!" I had wondered if that was part of it being a surrogacy or part of my personality or what, however, several friends who have been pregnant tell me that they can identify with that feeling, even though they were carrying their own child. It wasn't until the baby was placed in their arms that it all became real. I do think part of it, for me anyway, has to do with conceiving a child with medical treatments. They give you a calendar, you inject yourself with your specific drug cocktail every day, you visit the doctor every other day, or daily and on and on. It's not the miracle of making love with your spouse over a period of time and then one day peeing on a stick and seeing the plus sign. It is calculated and prescribed. So I was musing this over with someone and that person asked me, "What would make it feel real to you? What would make you feel your heart beat a little faster, and your anticipation grow? What would help you find the joy?" I thought for a moment, and then said, "Well, I guess decorating the baby's room." After all, if there's a place to put the baby, then it stands to reason that it would seem more real, right? And I like decorating and creativity.
Thus, a couple weekends ago Aaron and I journeyed to the mothership, the mecca of babyhood, the icon of infant idolatry...BABIES R US (you have to say that in your mind with a big, booming, echoy voice to get the effect that Aaron and I felt when we walked in the door). "Holy _____ (insert word of your choosing depending on how colorful your vocabulary is and it will suffice)", we thought. The size of half a target, all dedicated to apparently "necessary" items that people under age 3 or 4 need. We stumbled over to the Baby Registry counter, mouthes gaping open and pupils dialated, gave our information, and, although we insisted we were just going to look, were given what Aaron kept referring to as "the phaser" with the admonishment (in a perky, but maternal way), "You may say you're just going to look, but you should start marking whatever you think you might possibly be interested in, because you can always change it and add to it online or when you come into the store." Um. Okay. And then we were handed THE LIST.
THE LIST was a list of more than 200 item "MUST HAVES" for your registry checklist. Now, I was pretty little when my sister was born, but as far as I can remember we had diapers, bottles, an umbrella stroller, a crib, some clothes, a playpen, and pacifiers that we both refused to suck on. And that was about it...and we turned out ok. And then there was my mother. When she was born the Japanese had just been "evacuated" from the West Coast during World War II and "relocated" to internment camps. I think if she was lucky, she had diapers. No crib or stroller or anything like that...and she turned out ok. And I'm looking at THE LIST of 200+ items thinking, "Why the heck to babies need to have 200+ items these days???" I mean, they haven't changed much. Developmental progression is still the same as it has been for thousands of years. But Aaron and I were on a mission, to "find the joy" and "make it real" so we gamely waded in.
Ok, we more than waded in. We jumped in with both feet. We looked at cribs, strollers, carseats, high chairs, bottles and only God remembers what else. I've got enough material from this one journey practically for its own blog, or at least several entries, but to keep this entry manageable I'll limit it to the stroller section. Remember me, umbrella stroller kid? Well things have changed! There are Travel Systems, lightweight strollers, jogging strollers, full-sized strollers, activity strollers, double and triple strollers, stroller accessories, stroller gear, and on and on and on. And remember me, umbrella stroller kid? As we glanced down the aisle our eyes got bigger and bigger. But we are not ones to let a small sojourn to Babies R Us get the best of us, nay nay! So we jumped in with relish to test them out and decide what would work for our munchkin. And 30 minutes later we were just as baffled as when we started. Just when you think you've got one figured out, you move on to the next and it folds differently and its wheels lock differently and, if it's a "travel system" the carseat fits in differently. After spending an hour in the strollers aisle we were beat. We briefly explored other aisles of the store, but finally hit the wall staring down the bottle aisle. 10+ different brands, each with multiple sizes, nipples, shapes cleaning systems and other accoutrement did us in.
Overall our first foray lasted around 2 hours. And yes, we did experience "joy" and the "reality" definitely hit us. I've now enlisted 2 experienced moms to go back with me to help me figure out exactly what we really do need (which I coming to believe is very little of the list of necessary items) and the ins and outs of strollers. Nonetheless, the consumerism of "baby" everything everything was a bit mind blowing. Thus, about a week later, when I was ready to journey out again, I did so on my own terms and at my own pace. I went to a great consignment store near my house, and found a fabulous, like-new changing table for about 25% of retail cost. Now THAT (taking care of my child, taking care of our resources, and taking care of the planet by reusing things), to me, is finding my joy!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Chugga Chugga, Choo Choo!
Those who admire modern civilization usually identify it with the steam engine and the electric telegraph.
— George Bernard Shaw
I don't know anything about the electric telegraph, but I know with certainty that one of the delights we've come across on this journey, that we may very well have missed, is the joy of traveling by train. The train between King Street station in Seattle, and the train station in Portland takes about 3 1/2 hours. The journey would be the same by car, but it is in no way as enjoyable.
On a train, you can get up and move around whenever you want. There's no "please remain in your seat until the seatbelt sign goes off," or "place your tray tables in the upright position." There's no tapping the brakes in rush-hour traffic, arguing about which lane is traveling the fastest, or taking time out to stop for bathroom breaks. Amazingly enough, the bathroom travels right along with you, and even when you're using it, you continue making forward progress! You're allotted more than 18 square inches of seat and leg room, and there's even enough space to stretch your legs out and recline a bit. There's plug-ins to keep your electronic distractions charged up, and even Wi-Fi on some routes.
Perhaps the best part about train travel, are the people. We've met a lacrosse team traveling from California back to Canada, a young college grad from Denmark who traveled from New York to Chicago to Los Angeles and finally to Seattle, all by train, and all sorts of other people. People are just friendlier on trains. If you happen to take the route with the dining car, on your journey you'll be seated with two other people, whom you don't know, for dinner or lunch. Although Aaron finds this a bit tiresome, I love it. How often do we break bread with strangers anymore? Although you may only be sharing space with them for less than an hour, there's plenty of time to talk and start seeing the world through their point of view. It's always an adventure, and you never know what you're going to get!
The coast of Washington is beautiful to see by train. Much more beautiful than looking at every McDonald's and Chevron sign up and down the freeway. Just for the adventure, I highly recommend everybody try it one time, at least. You'll see the world from a whole different perspective. Whenever I start to feel like this journey is getting tedious, and I'm weary of traveling the road between Seattle and Portland, and back again, I try to remind myself that it could be so much worse…We could have to drive all the time!
We just rode the train down on Sunday and back on Monday for our 12 week appointment. It was our first time at the midwifery clinic. The midwives are all nurse-midwives, and practice at Oregon Health Science University Hospital. The baby will be delivered in the hospital in the same room that would be used if we were using an OB, however by a midwife. The first visit seemed very relaxed and personal. For the first time we got to hear the baby's heartbeat! What a great sound. "Lisa" was very excited that this ultrasound was the first that could be conducted through her belly instead of with the ubiquitous and highly personal "vag cam". Lisa and I are both happy to be done with that! Our baby is looking great. S/he is measuring five days older than s/he actually is. What a surprise, a child of Aaron and I, is already an overachiever. S/he was quite active, waving arms and legs, however also compliant and positioning his/herself just perfectly to take measurements for some sort of genetic testing and a first look for Down syndrome. So far everything looks great.
And, for those of you who are curious, the "fruit" comparison for this week is that of a peach. Frankly, given all the genetic manipulations and growth hormones, I've seen plenty of "limes" (last week's fruit of choice) that are the same size as peaches, but our glorious app tells us that this is a distinct growth.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
"Invertebrates" and "crabmeat"
Hello! As I sit down to dictate this (And yes, I do mean dictate into a talk-to-type translator, so please forgive any typos!) I realize how long it's been since I've written. Right after our last doctor's appointment, it was finals week for the classes that I teach. And let me tell you, now that I've been on both the student and professor side, I think finals take twice as much work for the professor. Right after that we went out of town for about a week, and then I had surgery on my left wrist. For good week after that I was blitzed out on painkillers, and God knows what I would've typed if given the opportunity! Now the pain (and painkillers) is at a tolerable level, and I'm able to dictate a blog entry into my fancy-schmancy talk-to-type program. So hooray for my return to the blogosphere! One thing I can say, is that by taking a hiatus, I've gotten a sense of who's actually reading my blog! Several of my mother's friends asked her if everything was going okay since I hadn't updated my blog in a while, and I got a couple e-mails, phone calls, and text messages checking in. It's great to know how many people really care about, and are joining us, on our journey!
My wrist is doing all right, although even with all my occupational therapy knowledge, I'm getting very tired of trying do things with just one hand. The surgery was for an injury that occurred last October while I was at work. I tried conservative treatment for several months, and then it took awhile for L&I to approve the surgery. After going in, the doctor was glad that we'd done surgery, and thought it would really help. The main part of the surgery was done on a tricky set of ligaments called the TFCC. He explained to me that if this series of ligaments were healthy it would look similar to "squid" and that my set of ligaments looked similar to "crabmeat". He cleaned out all of the delicacies, and then also did some work on the joint where the radius and the ulna connect. I'll be in the soft brace for about six weeks, and then I'll be able to start slowly using it again. My goal, of course, is to have it in tip top shape by baby's arrival.
Right now everything is going very well in the pregnancy. The last ultrasound showed that we have one healthy baby, and the other had stopped developing. While we're sad that the other baby quit developing, we're very excited that the others doing well. There was a fantastic moment when it looked as if the tiny "Flipper-Hand" on our 22 mm baby waved at us Aaron was talking about it. "Lisa" is experiencing more morning sickness and nausea than she ever did with her other two children, but other than that, she's doing well. We have our next ultrasound appointment on the 23rd, which will put us at right about 12 weeks. I feel like I'm in some weird time phenomena where time is both speeding by and plodding at the same time.
Of course these days there's an App for everything, so Aaron has downloaded "baby bump" which shows us week by week how are baby is developing. This app also continues to be a source of humor for Aaron and I. One of the things I most appreciate about Aaron is his "scientific" sense of humor. I was doing some cleaning up one day, right after he download the app, and he called out to me from the other room "when is our baby due again?" I told him and to see him furiously adjusting the program. "Ah!" He said, "now it's beginning to look more like an invertebrate!" Apparently at the two weeks he was looking at, in one week the embryo was still round shaped, and by the next week it it assumed more of a "tadpole" like appearance. I'm happy to report that it does appear that we are expecting a mammal. ;) This week, week 11, stated "On your baby's head, the ears are moving to the side of the head." Of course this left both of us wondering where the ears had started! We both continue to be amazed at how quickly the baby grows. Right now it's telling us that it's 1.6 inches, roughly the size of a "lime", weighs .25 ounces, and will double in size by next week! Ah the wonders of following a pregnancy with all the technology available to us! Thank you Steve Jobs.
PS: one of the things I'm trying to use this as is as a record of our journey. I know many of you get to this site by going through Facebook. If you don't mind, it would be great if you could leave any "comments" on the actual blog, instead of my Facebook. They'll have a complete record, all together, of both my thoughts and people's responses. Thank you! (Of course if you really want to, you can comment in both places!)
Hmmmmm. I'm discovering that if you comment here, then sometimes I don't know who you are!!! OK, feel free to comment wherever. I just like to know people are reading. :)
My wrist is doing all right, although even with all my occupational therapy knowledge, I'm getting very tired of trying do things with just one hand. The surgery was for an injury that occurred last October while I was at work. I tried conservative treatment for several months, and then it took awhile for L&I to approve the surgery. After going in, the doctor was glad that we'd done surgery, and thought it would really help. The main part of the surgery was done on a tricky set of ligaments called the TFCC. He explained to me that if this series of ligaments were healthy it would look similar to "squid" and that my set of ligaments looked similar to "crabmeat". He cleaned out all of the delicacies, and then also did some work on the joint where the radius and the ulna connect. I'll be in the soft brace for about six weeks, and then I'll be able to start slowly using it again. My goal, of course, is to have it in tip top shape by baby's arrival.
Right now everything is going very well in the pregnancy. The last ultrasound showed that we have one healthy baby, and the other had stopped developing. While we're sad that the other baby quit developing, we're very excited that the others doing well. There was a fantastic moment when it looked as if the tiny "Flipper-Hand" on our 22 mm baby waved at us Aaron was talking about it. "Lisa" is experiencing more morning sickness and nausea than she ever did with her other two children, but other than that, she's doing well. We have our next ultrasound appointment on the 23rd, which will put us at right about 12 weeks. I feel like I'm in some weird time phenomena where time is both speeding by and plodding at the same time.
Of course these days there's an App for everything, so Aaron has downloaded "baby bump" which shows us week by week how are baby is developing. This app also continues to be a source of humor for Aaron and I. One of the things I most appreciate about Aaron is his "scientific" sense of humor. I was doing some cleaning up one day, right after he download the app, and he called out to me from the other room "when is our baby due again?" I told him and to see him furiously adjusting the program. "Ah!" He said, "now it's beginning to look more like an invertebrate!" Apparently at the two weeks he was looking at, in one week the embryo was still round shaped, and by the next week it it assumed more of a "tadpole" like appearance. I'm happy to report that it does appear that we are expecting a mammal. ;) This week, week 11, stated "On your baby's head, the ears are moving to the side of the head." Of course this left both of us wondering where the ears had started! We both continue to be amazed at how quickly the baby grows. Right now it's telling us that it's 1.6 inches, roughly the size of a "lime", weighs .25 ounces, and will double in size by next week! Ah the wonders of following a pregnancy with all the technology available to us! Thank you Steve Jobs.
PS: one of the things I'm trying to use this as is as a record of our journey. I know many of you get to this site by going through Facebook. If you don't mind, it would be great if you could leave any "comments" on the actual blog, instead of my Facebook. They'll have a complete record, all together, of both my thoughts and people's responses. Thank you! (Of course if you really want to, you can comment in both places!)
Hmmmmm. I'm discovering that if you comment here, then sometimes I don't know who you are!!! OK, feel free to comment wherever. I just like to know people are reading. :)
Monday, May 9, 2011
A Message From Aaron (The Husband)
Hello, blogiverse; this is Aaron the husband writing for Tiffany. She can't type at the moment because she just had wrist surgery. But in her post-anesthesia stupor, she asked me to update the blog, as she has been getting many emails and texts.
Now as for the baby news, we are going to have... just one baby! The one that was barely surviving no longer has a heartbeat and is being slowly absorbed back into Lisa's body. I have to admit this is a little sad. But we are ecstatic about the healthy and growing baby that is thriving in our surrogate's welcoming womb. Tiffany and I are certainly relieved that we will not have the complications and dangers of a twin pregnancy (not to mention the extreme challenge of double-barreled baby-care). Mostly, we are thankful that we have a strong, growing baby in there!
Tiffany will put up a post of her own soon, either when her wrist heals or by speech-to-text. We thank all of you for your concern and support!
Now as for the baby news, we are going to have... just one baby! The one that was barely surviving no longer has a heartbeat and is being slowly absorbed back into Lisa's body. I have to admit this is a little sad. But we are ecstatic about the healthy and growing baby that is thriving in our surrogate's welcoming womb. Tiffany and I are certainly relieved that we will not have the complications and dangers of a twin pregnancy (not to mention the extreme challenge of double-barreled baby-care). Mostly, we are thankful that we have a strong, growing baby in there!
Tiffany will put up a post of her own soon, either when her wrist heals or by speech-to-text. We thank all of you for your concern and support!
Friday, April 15, 2011
One or Two?...well...yes it is
Add this one to the ever expanding list of This Is A Little Bit Different Than We Expected. Everyone (meaning the medical professionals who knows these things) told us that at this ultrasound we would know if we were having one or two babies. Well, it didn't exactly happen that way. So much for "One if by land, two if by sea"....I guess we're currently in one of those vehicles that can travel on water or over land.
When the doctor doing the ultrasound started out with "Here's the first embryonic sac," I braced myself. I mean, when someone starts out a sentence with "Here's the first...." you automatically think that there's another. So the thought that runs through my mind is (as my breath catches in my throat) "OK, two, we can do this." The first embryo was a beautiful 7mm long, floating in a lovely sea of amniotic fluid. There was a strong heartbeat that we could see, a little blip-blip-blip on the computer screen.
Then he went to the second embryo. He pointed out that it was considerably smaller, that it hadn't consumed it's "yolk sac" and that he didn't see a heart beat. He said that the remains of that embryo would simply be absorbed into the body. So I took another deep breath, "OK, one baby, beautiful, great, healthy!"
He went back to the first embryo and took a picture (already added to the growing stack). Then he went back to the second embryo, paused and said, "Oh wait! I think I see a faint heartbeat!" So here's my inner monologue, "Holy cow! OK, so is it one? Is it two? What the heck do we tell people? What the heck do we plan for? This is so so so weird. Seriously, completely, utterly, totally weird."
So the main story is, we have one fetus that looks very healthy. The heart is beating strongly, the size is good, and everything looks good. The other fetus is about two thirds the size of the first one with a faint heartbeat. At this point it could survive, or it may not. The medical professionals seem to be thinking that it won't survive, and that at the next ultrasound, in two weeks, we'll find that we have one healthy baby. But no one will make an absolute call on that. "It's too hard to predict," one says. "There's a slight chance it may survive," says another. And my brain says, "OK. Another two weeks wait to see what happens. Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat. Repeat again. Repeat until you can wrap your head around this one."
It was an odd appointment to walk away from. We had gone down there thinking that we would have an answer, and, as so many medical things go, it's not quite black and white. So much for definitive ordinal numbers. So once again...we wait. For another 2 weeks to see what God has in store for our family. If nothing else, I'm learning how to wait and rest in Him, knowing that He has it all under control. Thank goodness!
Nonetheless, it was thrilling to see at least one healthy, happy baby, and to see our good friends, "Lisa" and "Leon." Speaking of "Leon" (the surrogate's husband) he had a very interesting exchange with a friend on the phone the other day. He was talking to a friend on the phone and mentioned that his wife was pregnant. The friend launched into a "Hey! Congratulations on number 3...." at which point Leon interrupted him and said, "No, no. It's not mine!" There was a pause on the other end of the line. It's an interesting journey for all of us.
When the doctor doing the ultrasound started out with "Here's the first embryonic sac," I braced myself. I mean, when someone starts out a sentence with "Here's the first...." you automatically think that there's another. So the thought that runs through my mind is (as my breath catches in my throat) "OK, two, we can do this." The first embryo was a beautiful 7mm long, floating in a lovely sea of amniotic fluid. There was a strong heartbeat that we could see, a little blip-blip-blip on the computer screen.
Then he went to the second embryo. He pointed out that it was considerably smaller, that it hadn't consumed it's "yolk sac" and that he didn't see a heart beat. He said that the remains of that embryo would simply be absorbed into the body. So I took another deep breath, "OK, one baby, beautiful, great, healthy!"
He went back to the first embryo and took a picture (already added to the growing stack). Then he went back to the second embryo, paused and said, "Oh wait! I think I see a faint heartbeat!" So here's my inner monologue, "Holy cow! OK, so is it one? Is it two? What the heck do we tell people? What the heck do we plan for? This is so so so weird. Seriously, completely, utterly, totally weird."
So the main story is, we have one fetus that looks very healthy. The heart is beating strongly, the size is good, and everything looks good. The other fetus is about two thirds the size of the first one with a faint heartbeat. At this point it could survive, or it may not. The medical professionals seem to be thinking that it won't survive, and that at the next ultrasound, in two weeks, we'll find that we have one healthy baby. But no one will make an absolute call on that. "It's too hard to predict," one says. "There's a slight chance it may survive," says another. And my brain says, "OK. Another two weeks wait to see what happens. Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat. Repeat again. Repeat until you can wrap your head around this one."
It was an odd appointment to walk away from. We had gone down there thinking that we would have an answer, and, as so many medical things go, it's not quite black and white. So much for definitive ordinal numbers. So once again...we wait. For another 2 weeks to see what God has in store for our family. If nothing else, I'm learning how to wait and rest in Him, knowing that He has it all under control. Thank goodness!
Nonetheless, it was thrilling to see at least one healthy, happy baby, and to see our good friends, "Lisa" and "Leon." Speaking of "Leon" (the surrogate's husband) he had a very interesting exchange with a friend on the phone the other day. He was talking to a friend on the phone and mentioned that his wife was pregnant. The friend launched into a "Hey! Congratulations on number 3...." at which point Leon interrupted him and said, "No, no. It's not mine!" There was a pause on the other end of the line. It's an interesting journey for all of us.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Interesting Feelings
It's interesting. One thing I had not anticipated was this acute sadness I am feeling. After spending time with a friend who is 3 months pregnant I came away with a longing to experience what she is experiencing, and an envy/jealousy towards our surrogate who gets to actually carry this pregnancy. The feeling grew even more this weekend when I spent time with a woman who is 7 months pregnant. We've been so focused on getting to this point of being pregnant and the ultimate goal of a child that I really hadn't anticipated this, and I don't quite know what to do with it.
I kind of feel like an involved and engaged bystander, but a bystander nonetheless. Everyone fawns over expectant mothers, asking them how they are feeling, telling them they're glowing and giving sage advice, wisdom and folk remedies on stretch marks. It's our pregnancy, sort of, in that it's our child, but I don't get all that part of being pregnant. And yes, I know I won't get sagging breasts, or morning sickness, or stretch marks which may all be a good thing, but I also don't get the joy of the sideways pictures taken of me every few weeks, or feeling the flutter of little feet and hands inside my womb or the knowing smiles from everyone I see, strangers and friends alike, that says, "I know what's up with you. What an amazing experience!"
In my philosophical moments I've been thinking about archetypal persona of what it means to be female, to be a mother. It's not exactly something Hallmark makes a greeting card for. It's not the 50s, there are so many acceptable roles for women other than homemaker, wife and mother. Nonetheless, when one talks about a 'Mother-To-Be' there is the image someone glowing with the anticipation of the life inside of them, the life that they get to support and nourish before the child is even born. What happens if you don't fit that image?
Maybe if the distance were shorter between our surrogate and us I would feel a bit more like I was experiencing the pregnancy along with her. It's nothing she's done or said, indeed she and her husband keep talking about this being "our" (Aaron's and my) pregnancy. And we've bought some children's books to create audio CDs of our voices reading to play to the as it grows child (and her children). And I bought her a "pregnancy" journal that I hope she'll keep so that I can later share that with our child. I feel like I'm doing everything I can to feel involved. But it's just not the same. I mean, let's face it, nothing about this journey is the same as most people's journeys toward parenthood. And I'm mostly ok with that. Mostly grateful that there is a way for us to become parents. Amazed that someone will join us on this journey and help us become parents. But, to be totally honest and transparent, every now and then I do feel that ache of wishing it were different...more like everyone else.
I kind of feel like an involved and engaged bystander, but a bystander nonetheless. Everyone fawns over expectant mothers, asking them how they are feeling, telling them they're glowing and giving sage advice, wisdom and folk remedies on stretch marks. It's our pregnancy, sort of, in that it's our child, but I don't get all that part of being pregnant. And yes, I know I won't get sagging breasts, or morning sickness, or stretch marks which may all be a good thing, but I also don't get the joy of the sideways pictures taken of me every few weeks, or feeling the flutter of little feet and hands inside my womb or the knowing smiles from everyone I see, strangers and friends alike, that says, "I know what's up with you. What an amazing experience!"
In my philosophical moments I've been thinking about archetypal persona of what it means to be female, to be a mother. It's not exactly something Hallmark makes a greeting card for. It's not the 50s, there are so many acceptable roles for women other than homemaker, wife and mother. Nonetheless, when one talks about a 'Mother-To-Be' there is the image someone glowing with the anticipation of the life inside of them, the life that they get to support and nourish before the child is even born. What happens if you don't fit that image?
Maybe if the distance were shorter between our surrogate and us I would feel a bit more like I was experiencing the pregnancy along with her. It's nothing she's done or said, indeed she and her husband keep talking about this being "our" (Aaron's and my) pregnancy. And we've bought some children's books to create audio CDs of our voices reading to play to the as it grows child (and her children). And I bought her a "pregnancy" journal that I hope she'll keep so that I can later share that with our child. I feel like I'm doing everything I can to feel involved. But it's just not the same. I mean, let's face it, nothing about this journey is the same as most people's journeys toward parenthood. And I'm mostly ok with that. Mostly grateful that there is a way for us to become parents. Amazed that someone will join us on this journey and help us become parents. But, to be totally honest and transparent, every now and then I do feel that ache of wishing it were different...more like everyone else.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Yin & Yang
In traditional Chinese philosophy, Yin Yang represent all the opposite principles found in the universe.
I've been thinking about this concept a lot over the past week. The balance of the universe. The ability of horrible things to exist at the same time as wonderful things. The ability to feel devastated and feel hope and excitement at the same time. Aaron and I definitely had a Yin Yang week last week. On Wednesday evening Aaron got laid off. There was no warning, no real severance to speak of, and it was effective immediately. Thus we found ourselves mired in uncertainty, confusion and despair. Aaron's work colleagues are like family to him, and he loved his job. Then, on Friday morning, we found out that we were pregnant! I had always imagined that I would be over the moon with happiness, and while I am delighted and excited, I'm also cautious. In 36 hours we had gone from sobbing to dancing. And we continued to sob while we danced. The interconnectedness and ability of two seemingly opposite emotions to exist at once was never more apparent to me than last Friday.
And perhaps that's where my caution comes from. I wish, I wish, I wish I could just be solely ecstatically happy. Don't get me wrong, I AM thrilled and happy, but, experience over the last several years has taught me that being cautious might just be the healthiest thing for me emotionally. Maybe if you've never been on a journey like this you can't understand. With illness, surrogacy, and, frankly, with life, I've learned there are ups and downs. Everyone knows that. And so while I sit here, thinking positive thoughts, and feeling happy, I'm also not releasing myself to 100% joyful abandon.
The thing is, at this stage in pregnancy, about 1 month, most people never announce they are pregnant. Things happen during the 1st trimester. And maybe because I'm a pediatric OT I'm acutely aware of things that can go wrong throughout pregnancy. Maybe I'm removed from feeling totally connected to what's happening because there aren't any changes going on in MY body. With a phone call, we find out we're pregnant. Nothing has changed around me or in me as evidence of a pregnancy, other than that phone call.
I think I'll feel a lot better on April 14th. On the 14th we travel to Portland for the first ultrasound. We'll get to see "Lisa," and our baby's beating heart. Or maybe our babies beating hearts. We transferred 2 embryos, so who knows what we might see. For the safety of the pregnancy, for Lisa and for the baby, we're hoping for a singleton, but if God has twins in the cards for us, then that's the road we'll travel.
It's funny, I thought that when we found out we were pregnancy I'd write a completely joyous blog. But I guess when you've already been through so much trying to get to this point, the positive pregnancy test is just another step on the road to being a parent. Instead of being the beginning of a journey, for most couples who get the positive pregnancy test, for us, between working with a surrogate and doing fertility treatments, it's just the middle part of the journey. And that's what I keep reminding myself, this is a journey. But the 14th will be a big day. Maybe I'll be able to breathe a little bit easier. Maybe I'll be able to let my hope grow a bit. Until then, I wait with cautious optimism.
"Yin and Yang are mutually-arising, interdependent, and continuously transforming, one into the other. One could not exist without the other, for each contains the essence of the other. Night becomes day, and day becomes night....Such is the nature...of everything in the relative world." -Elizabeth Reninger
I've been thinking about this concept a lot over the past week. The balance of the universe. The ability of horrible things to exist at the same time as wonderful things. The ability to feel devastated and feel hope and excitement at the same time. Aaron and I definitely had a Yin Yang week last week. On Wednesday evening Aaron got laid off. There was no warning, no real severance to speak of, and it was effective immediately. Thus we found ourselves mired in uncertainty, confusion and despair. Aaron's work colleagues are like family to him, and he loved his job. Then, on Friday morning, we found out that we were pregnant! I had always imagined that I would be over the moon with happiness, and while I am delighted and excited, I'm also cautious. In 36 hours we had gone from sobbing to dancing. And we continued to sob while we danced. The interconnectedness and ability of two seemingly opposite emotions to exist at once was never more apparent to me than last Friday.
And perhaps that's where my caution comes from. I wish, I wish, I wish I could just be solely ecstatically happy. Don't get me wrong, I AM thrilled and happy, but, experience over the last several years has taught me that being cautious might just be the healthiest thing for me emotionally. Maybe if you've never been on a journey like this you can't understand. With illness, surrogacy, and, frankly, with life, I've learned there are ups and downs. Everyone knows that. And so while I sit here, thinking positive thoughts, and feeling happy, I'm also not releasing myself to 100% joyful abandon.
The thing is, at this stage in pregnancy, about 1 month, most people never announce they are pregnant. Things happen during the 1st trimester. And maybe because I'm a pediatric OT I'm acutely aware of things that can go wrong throughout pregnancy. Maybe I'm removed from feeling totally connected to what's happening because there aren't any changes going on in MY body. With a phone call, we find out we're pregnant. Nothing has changed around me or in me as evidence of a pregnancy, other than that phone call.
I think I'll feel a lot better on April 14th. On the 14th we travel to Portland for the first ultrasound. We'll get to see "Lisa," and our baby's beating heart. Or maybe our babies beating hearts. We transferred 2 embryos, so who knows what we might see. For the safety of the pregnancy, for Lisa and for the baby, we're hoping for a singleton, but if God has twins in the cards for us, then that's the road we'll travel.
It's funny, I thought that when we found out we were pregnancy I'd write a completely joyous blog. But I guess when you've already been through so much trying to get to this point, the positive pregnancy test is just another step on the road to being a parent. Instead of being the beginning of a journey, for most couples who get the positive pregnancy test, for us, between working with a surrogate and doing fertility treatments, it's just the middle part of the journey. And that's what I keep reminding myself, this is a journey. But the 14th will be a big day. Maybe I'll be able to breathe a little bit easier. Maybe I'll be able to let my hope grow a bit. Until then, I wait with cautious optimism.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Faith and Hope
Today is Aaron's and my 6th wedding anniversary, so it seems appropriate to post today. Above you'll see our blastocysts (that's what embryos are called after 5 days) that were transferred on Wednesday. It truly is amazing. The one on the right is a full blastocyst. It's about 200 cells. The darker mass of cells on the right is what will form the baby. The smoother cells to the left form the amniotic fluid. The thicker cells around the outside for the placenta. How amazing is that?!?!?! I could stare at this picture for hours and marvel at the intricacy, the ingenuity, the beauty. This picture was taken a couple hours before the transfer, and when the transfer was taking place we could see the one on the right emerging from it's cellular cocoon, "hatching" as they call it, and sliding out of its shell. A 5 day transfer like we were able to do this time has a greater likelihood of success, as they are able to choose the most developed embryos for transfer. In our case, on day 5 we had 3 embryos, one at the full blast stage (the one on the right) and two that weren't quite there (like the one on the left). After much thought and prayer, we decided to transfer 2. I'm really glad we did, because the next day we got some sad news. The 3rd embryo never developed into a blastocyst, and thus could not be frozen. So it's these two we're praying for right now. Aaron suggested we call them "blasty" and "cysty". I guess I'm more poetic, as I've decided to refer to them as "Faith" and "Hope" from Hebrews 11:1: Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.
The days leading up the transfer were crazy! Our surrogate and her family came into town on Sunday, expecting a Monday transfer and then a return to Portland on Tuesday. On Monday we got the news that we had enough embryos to wait until a Wednesday transfer. Thus "Lisa" and her family stayed in town for the Wednesday transfer and returned to Portland on Thursday. I felt so bad about the change in plans, but Lisa was great about it, and their family made a mini-vacation out of it. Perhaps best, Aaron and I got to spend a lot of time with them, dinner on Sunday and Tuesday, hanging out on Wednesday. It was wonderful. Tuesday was the hearing in the Senate committee...and let me tell you, that's a whole different blog entry coming up! The "Anti"s for our bill were out in full force spewing rhetoric that made me cringe. What was supposed to be a quick hearing lasted about 2 1/2 hours with a half an hour prep before. But, as I said, that's another blog entry. If you'd like a preview, another woman has already blogged about it: here.
The transfer itself was more uncomfortable this time. Lisa has to have a full bladder, and this time it was VERY full. The pressure of the wonderful "duckbill" holding things open, the tube for inserting the blasts, and the ultrasound wand pressing down were a bit much. And yet, I got a flash forward to 9 months from now. Lisa was grimacing and I reached out my hand and held hers. It felt so natural, and boy does she have a grip! I'll have to exercise my hand squeezing skills! It was wonderful to not just be an observer and watch our little embry-babies make their journey into her womb, but to really be in the moment with her. Breathing with her, following her lead, supporting her, and being actively involved in the process, not just a passive observer.
So now we wait. Next Friday is the date when we will get word. Until then, we pray, and hang on to faith and hope with confidence and assurance.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Cheaper by the half dozen....
Someone today asked me how I was feeling. (ok, it was the nurse from YFCF21C) I replied, "Well not bad. Actually I just feel like someone repeatedly stuck a very long needle through an orifice that doesn't typically receive needles, and picked off small objects from my innards multiple, multiple times yesterday. I'm sure you know the feeling." Maybe a bit snarky, but the truth.
Yesterday I was really disappointed. Although I had 12 good looking follicles, they only managed to retrieve 7 eggs. The doctor said that she tried each follicle several times, but, from what I understood through my still somewhat foggy from anesthetic state, if the egg doesn't retrieve easily, then it's likely not mature and not going to fertilize anyway. Today, however, we received good news. Of the 7 eggs retrieved, 6 were mature and they all fertilized! That makes it twice as many as last time. We went from a fertilization rate of 60% to 100%. So maybe the acupuncture and herbs did do something! So we currently have 6 embry-babies doing their best to divide, conquer and grow in a petri-dish. The transfer is set for Monday. Grooooooooow little embry-babies!
Yesterday I was really disappointed. Although I had 12 good looking follicles, they only managed to retrieve 7 eggs. The doctor said that she tried each follicle several times, but, from what I understood through my still somewhat foggy from anesthetic state, if the egg doesn't retrieve easily, then it's likely not mature and not going to fertilize anyway. Today, however, we received good news. Of the 7 eggs retrieved, 6 were mature and they all fertilized! That makes it twice as many as last time. We went from a fertilization rate of 60% to 100%. So maybe the acupuncture and herbs did do something! So we currently have 6 embry-babies doing their best to divide, conquer and grow in a petri-dish. The transfer is set for Monday. Grooooooooow little embry-babies!
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Veins of Steel
For some reason, although my ovaries seem to be cooperating more this round, my veins have decided not to cooperate. Each time I go in for an ultrasound to check out how my little Easter baskets are doing, they draw my blood. Now I'll admit, I'm what's known as a "hard stick," in medical language. My veins are deep, move around, and generally try to disappear the minute a needle clears the skin. But the phlebotomist at YFCF21C was phenomenal last round. She managed to get my blood with the first stick each time it was drawn. I even thought that perhaps my "bad vein" days were over and I had entered into a more harmonious, symbiotic relationship with them. Alas, this has not been the case. I've had my blood drawn about 6 times in the last 2 weeks. And only once has it been done with one poke. Neither elbow vein seems to be cooperating this round. Even more distressing, about half the time it's taken 3 pokes to get blood, a try in each elbow, and finally, with much sighing on the part of the phlebotomist, moving to my hand.
So here's my concern. Let's say I pass out at the grocery store or something (I don't anticipate this happening, I' m just posting a scenario) and they call the paramedics. One look at my tummy will reveal a constellation of needle marks and bruises. At least 40 at this point. Then they'll look at my arms. My elbows are covered with needle marks. One look at my hands reveals the same. Thus, instead of searching for a deeper medical cause for my passing out, they'll label me a junkie, give me some narcan and toss me in the back of an ambulance. I mean, at least I look like one of the "Snooty, Upper Crust, Eastside junkies," but with the needle marks, a junkie nonetheless. I can see this case of mistaken identity leading to either tragic consequences, or a great number in the musical.
I can't believe how much is going on at this point. OK, first of all, "Lisa's" lining. It's looking ok, but she's travelling from Portland to Seattle on Thursday to get that all checked out, and I'll be her wheels for her time in town. Then on Friday they're doing the retrieval. The excellent news is that I may have as many as....12 good follicles by then! Yes friends, God asks us to pray specifically, and praying for a dozen may have done the trick! The doctor keeps remarking that this, "is a very different cycle from last time." I don't know if it was the acupuncture, the herbs (oh gosh, another thing someone might overhear and think I'm a junkie!) the prayers, or just simply another month, but things are looking good. With the retrieval on Friday, depending on how the embryos look, the transfer will take place on either Monday or Wednesday. Here's where things get a bit complicated. On Monday, at 10:00, I have my every-3-months-oh-how-I-love-them botox injections. Which means I reduce down on my medications and go way up on the pain scale. (oh man, I get about 20 shots then. Yet another reason I will be mistaken for a junkie in my supermarket scenario) Anyhow, this should be ok because my physical labor will be done by then as far as baby-making goes. But it will mean that I have this am appt. then off to the train station to pick up Lisa, then off to YFCF21C, etc. On Tuesday I've been invited to testify to a Senate committee on behalf of the bill that passed out of the House. Then, if it's a day 5 transfer, I work most of Wednesday and will have to figure out a way to get around that one.
So things are super busy...but I also have much to be thankful for. For how well this cycle is going. For the support I'm getting from my family and friends. For our wonderful surrogate and her family. For the bill that I can speak on behalf of. For a medication like Botox which, although painful, does wonders for me.
And perhaps, for understanding paramedics who will look beyond the myriad track marks and consider the fact that, perhaps, I am not a junkie.
What you can expect is updates as often as I can over the next week to let you know how things are going, and what specific prayer needs are. Right now I've got 4 follicles that need to grow about 2 mm more to possibly be mature, and Lisa needs a safe journey to Seattle and back to Portland on Thursday.
Oh yes, and if that wasn't enough, I've taken a real step out now (not that I've exactly been hiding in the shadows up until this point or anything). Last night I received a call from the Seattle Times. They asked if they could interview me for an article they are writing about the bill currently going through the legislature. With Aaron's blessing, I was interviewed this afternoon. I really think this is the right thing to do. I think more people need to understand what gestational surrogacy is, and isn't, and the challenges that can arrive when Washington State makes it so difficult to do. At the same time, I've basically opened up our story for anyone who picks up a paper to hear. Sure a blog can reach a wide audience, but mostly it's my friends and family who are reading this, and other interested parties who have heard about it through word of mouth. Now, anyone from my kindergarten teacher, to the grocery store clerk (the one who is going to respond when I pass out in the grocery store), to someone very opposed to surrogacy is going to see my name associated with it. So I'm a little bit anxious about that. As I said, I think it's the right thing to do, but I'm still a little anxious about it....and the needle marks....all over my body. Thank goodness it's still long sleeve weather.
So here's my concern. Let's say I pass out at the grocery store or something (I don't anticipate this happening, I' m just posting a scenario) and they call the paramedics. One look at my tummy will reveal a constellation of needle marks and bruises. At least 40 at this point. Then they'll look at my arms. My elbows are covered with needle marks. One look at my hands reveals the same. Thus, instead of searching for a deeper medical cause for my passing out, they'll label me a junkie, give me some narcan and toss me in the back of an ambulance. I mean, at least I look like one of the "Snooty, Upper Crust, Eastside junkies," but with the needle marks, a junkie nonetheless. I can see this case of mistaken identity leading to either tragic consequences, or a great number in the musical.
I can't believe how much is going on at this point. OK, first of all, "Lisa's" lining. It's looking ok, but she's travelling from Portland to Seattle on Thursday to get that all checked out, and I'll be her wheels for her time in town. Then on Friday they're doing the retrieval. The excellent news is that I may have as many as....12 good follicles by then! Yes friends, God asks us to pray specifically, and praying for a dozen may have done the trick! The doctor keeps remarking that this, "is a very different cycle from last time." I don't know if it was the acupuncture, the herbs (oh gosh, another thing someone might overhear and think I'm a junkie!) the prayers, or just simply another month, but things are looking good. With the retrieval on Friday, depending on how the embryos look, the transfer will take place on either Monday or Wednesday. Here's where things get a bit complicated. On Monday, at 10:00, I have my every-3-months-oh-how-I-love-them botox injections. Which means I reduce down on my medications and go way up on the pain scale. (oh man, I get about 20 shots then. Yet another reason I will be mistaken for a junkie in my supermarket scenario) Anyhow, this should be ok because my physical labor will be done by then as far as baby-making goes. But it will mean that I have this am appt. then off to the train station to pick up Lisa, then off to YFCF21C, etc. On Tuesday I've been invited to testify to a Senate committee on behalf of the bill that passed out of the House. Then, if it's a day 5 transfer, I work most of Wednesday and will have to figure out a way to get around that one.
So things are super busy...but I also have much to be thankful for. For how well this cycle is going. For the support I'm getting from my family and friends. For our wonderful surrogate and her family. For the bill that I can speak on behalf of. For a medication like Botox which, although painful, does wonders for me.
And perhaps, for understanding paramedics who will look beyond the myriad track marks and consider the fact that, perhaps, I am not a junkie.
What you can expect is updates as often as I can over the next week to let you know how things are going, and what specific prayer needs are. Right now I've got 4 follicles that need to grow about 2 mm more to possibly be mature, and Lisa needs a safe journey to Seattle and back to Portland on Thursday.
Oh yes, and if that wasn't enough, I've taken a real step out now (not that I've exactly been hiding in the shadows up until this point or anything). Last night I received a call from the Seattle Times. They asked if they could interview me for an article they are writing about the bill currently going through the legislature. With Aaron's blessing, I was interviewed this afternoon. I really think this is the right thing to do. I think more people need to understand what gestational surrogacy is, and isn't, and the challenges that can arrive when Washington State makes it so difficult to do. At the same time, I've basically opened up our story for anyone who picks up a paper to hear. Sure a blog can reach a wide audience, but mostly it's my friends and family who are reading this, and other interested parties who have heard about it through word of mouth. Now, anyone from my kindergarten teacher, to the grocery store clerk (the one who is going to respond when I pass out in the grocery store), to someone very opposed to surrogacy is going to see my name associated with it. So I'm a little bit anxious about that. As I said, I think it's the right thing to do, but I'm still a little anxious about it....and the needle marks....all over my body. Thank goodness it's still long sleeve weather.
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