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.

"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. :)

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!

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.

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.

Yin & Yang

In traditional Chinese philosophy, Yin Yang represent all the opposite principles found in the universe.

"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.

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.