Post Script

I've been having mixed feelings about hitting "publish" on that last post.

Thanks so much for your comments, and yes, I'm right there with you. "Cautiously optimistic" doesn't even begin to describe how cautiously we are approaching these possibilities. There are still so many variables in play. So many points in which the story will be over. Enough to fill a spreadsheet.

But being somewhere is better than being nowhere, right?

And did I jinx it by speaking aloud?

This is a constant struggle for me. At work, communication is so related to strategy - what to say to whom and when and who needs to hear it first so protocols are followed and egos are massaged. Communication is a constant dance.

At home, cohabitation with an undersharer has definitely made me more careful about spilling my guts to all I meet. Somewhat out of respect for him and his privacy, and also because as I've matured I do realize that there is such a thing as appropriate dinner conversation and my innards or my crappy day at work or the very detailed critique of your best friend's hair doesn't necessarily fall into that category.

sidenote: that realization does NOT prevent me from sticking foot in mouth:

We met another person who lives in our building last week. As we were chatting I ask (and somehow sensing where I was going, I hear M silently moan...)
me: "hey! do you think there's a stripper that lives on the 2nd floor? There's a girl there. She's really pretty and keeps odd hours. I see her all the time in the middle of day in sweats walking her dogs."
new guy: "You mean my sister?"
[M: audible groan. sharp kick under table]
new guy: "yeah, uh, she's not a stripper. We own a tanning salon together."
ugh. ugh. ugh.
Luckily, I also learned they don't really like each other. But still....

Ok, back to post. So as you can see, sometimes I worry incessantly about when to open my mouth. Other times, not so much. Yesterday's post was one that's been churning in my brain for a while but somehow I'm feeling, I don't know, a little exposed with it out there.

But I think we're all on the same page here: the cautiously optimistic page.

On the agency side of things, we learned yesterday that upon another interview, they decided this potential profile they mentioned was probably not a good match for us, but they hoped to have some next week to share. I was also told that finding a match for us was has become a "personal challenge" for the director.

And that left me a little chuffed. Maybe I was feeling emboldened by Mo's recent post on being made to feel a little high maintenance for simply exercising some patient rights, and perhaps I was wondering if we and the agency were each working off of some different expectations, so I wrote back:

"I'm struggling to understand what makes us such a challenge. How are we different from other IPs?"

This is something I had asked before and that response encouraged us to redo our profile (which I feel much better about this time around). This time, I received another quick and thoughtful response back. Our agency had been working from our "wish list." And two of the criteria they were using to select profiles were dead on. The other two, well, I'm really glad I asked.

They had been assuming we only wanted to deal with in-state GCs. Not so. We only wanted an assurance that wherever the GC was, their state was surrogate-friendly so we wouldn't encounter any legal issues with birth certificates, hospitals, etc. I assured her we are willing to do a nationwide search to get us to the person that can build our family with us.

The agency had also not been sharing any profiles of women who were stay at home moms with us, and SAHMs are pretty much the bulk of their database. This completely puzzled me, but when I looked through old email strings, I had placed an emphasis on wanting to be sure our GC felt financially independent (with or without the GC fee) and really wanted a woman who had outside interests and hobbies, someone engaged in furthering her career or educational goals. Pieces that we said we liked about profiles we had seen so far usually involved women who were pursuing higher degrees, working on promotions....I could see how our agency thought employment was a "must have."

But I wish we would have talked about this sooner. Our wish list was just that - a wish. Describing ideal situations, not eliminate-anyone-that-doesn't-fit criteria. And what the hell do we know about what's ideal? We've never done this before!

Communication = so key. Out of state carriers are fine. SAHMs are welcome. It seems that this will open up a few more possibilities for us to review as we wait for medical records to be obtained and sent from our friend. We're trying to stay on parallel tracks so we don't lose any more time lest one of them falls through.

Cautiously optimistic on both fronts. Braced for the next hurdle. Learning lessons on communication along the way.

On the GC Tip

As you know, we've taken quite a long and winding path to gestational surrogacy. We never expected the process to be quick. We also never expected to be in the running for hardest couple to match. ever.

Part of this is our fault. I know. Word of advice: intended parents, read. Reread. Then ask other people to read your profiles before hitting send. Ours benefited greatly from the eyes of some wise women once we realized, hmm, maybe we haven't put our best foot forward here.

So, new profile for us was entered. We received one potential carrier profile after that, it was good.....but not quite there yet. Received another that made me pull M out of meeting at work to make him read it. It felt like such a fit. I loved the voice I was hearing in the writer. I saw humor, pragmatism, intelligence, love. I love the city where she lives, found encouragement that she worked in a medical setting. We emailed the agency right away with a "YES! Let's do this!!!" They were thrilled. We were too. We waited to hear what the potential carrier might think.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, our agency started to gently prod. We know this is a big decision, but this couple have been on this journey a very, very long time. Can you tell us what you're thinking?

She was thinking she needed some time to think through timing. She feared having to be on meds over the holidays. And I thought that was fair. In fact, that made me like her even more. How responsible! How forward thinking!

And we waited, and waited even longer for her to say yes so we could move forward with the papers, contracts, all the good stuff. Finally, our agency gave her a deadline. Which she promptly missed. Weeks after our initial "let's do this," we all agreed this carrier, for whatever reason, was not going to happen.

Funny thing is, at this point, we are pretty un-fazed by things not working out.

**

In the midst of the waiting, we were hanging out with friends and talking about that other decision - to house or not to house. One of our good friends, who is also our mortgage broker, was walking through the finances with me. And I confessed that there was this one major variable hanging out there that we had to always keep in mind. And that variable was pretty expensive. She furrowed her brows and gave a what the hell are you talking about look and I ended up spilling the whole sack of gestational carrier beans - how we had friends who offered, that didn't work out, we moved to an agency, we've struggled to find a match, we found a match, she seems to be getting cold feet....

Our friend asked tons of questions, I thought because she was fascinated by the whole process. What does it take? What does a carrier have to do? How do the meds work? And out of nowhere said:

"I would totally do this for you."

Hunh? What?

"I need to talk with [my husband] and I need to be sure he is ok with this, and you need to talk with M to be sure he's cool (yeah, he is) but this is something that I would really want to do. What do we do next?"

Well, first, M and I pull our jaws up from the ground. And then we say thank you. And then we think about what we will need to present to her very nice, but very overprotective husband to see if he would be on board. We talked for the rest of the night. About Isa and Jovi. About her family. About ours. About her feelings around pregnancy, About the b*tch that is infertility.

And that's where we are now. Putting some assurances together for hubby (who is ok, not thrilled, but ok) with his wife's decision, and presenting another set of medical records to our clinic for inspection.

As you know, this has been the "do not pass go" point in two previous attempts.

Again, we find ourselves with another amazing woman who we know and love and would LOVE to have as a part of our extended family. She has a teen son, whom we adore, and a brother, who has been M's best friend for decades. Her family is nontraditional, but full of love and acceptance. We can't get ourselves too excited because, you know, shit happens.

And just to be safe, we're not letting go of our agency. Who, in fact, emailed yesterday to say there is a potential profile for us to review once background checks are made.

A couple of irons are in the fire. (and I don't know where to go next with that idiom).

What I *thought* I said

You may recall me talking about how we were less then thrilled with the first couple of gestational carrier profiles that we viewed.

After we sent our feedback to our agency, the director scoured their database and came back to us and said, I'm really struggling with finding the right match for you. I have a few new applicants that might work; I'm waiting on all their clearances and such and will get those profiles to you as soon as I can.

Which made me wonder - what is it about us that is such a challenge?

So I asked. And received a really thoughtful and honest response from our agency. First was a suggestion: don't take the written profiles at 100% face value. Invest a half hour and have a phone conversation with one or two of the women and see if that changes your opinion. Don't assume someone can express themselves perfectly on a questionnaire. Go deeper. Those 30 minutes could be well worth your while.

Which is exactly the advice that many of you gave both here, in person and via email. So, thank you. You were and are right.

So we agreed to setting up some phone conversations, only to find that BOTH potential GCs said, "mmm, um, no thanks." to US!

Isn't that a nice kick in the pants?

I spent the weekend being hurt, then angry. No one likes to be rejected. Then I quickly switched to a "how DARE they!" frame of mind. Like it or not, there will be a LOT of money exchanged here - that gives US The right to be selective, not the other way around, right?!?

And then I calmed myself and looked at the profile/questionnaire we submitted and I tried to do it with an eye of a potential gestational carrier. (something we should have done before we even hit SEND in the first place.)

And I can see some things now that I didn't see writing it.

In my quest to appear normal, balanced, undamaged, I think our profile gives the impression that life is GREAT! We hike! We kayak! Look over here. We are TOTALLY well-adjusted. No signs of intense grieving and lack of life purpose over here. Did I mention I knit?

So much so, I, as a GC, might look at it and go, "hunh, I'm not sure they really want a baby. Things seem to be going pretty great for them right now. I bet my help might make more of a difference to someone else right now...."

Or you might look at the part where we talk so much about a certain family member being our first choice as our GC and think, "oh, awesome. I am starting this relationship knowing I am their second choice. That's a great feeling...."

But what is really the kicker, I think. What makes us so damn hard to match: Our answer to this question:

If it were determined during the pregnancy via medical testing that the fetus had physical and/or mental abnormalities would you want to abort the pregnancy?

What I thought we said was something along the lines of: "No matter what happens this would be our choice to make and we would need a GC who understands that."

But the multiple choice item we selected, it seems, was:

Yes,as such we need to be matched with a carrier who is willing to terminate a pregnancy if medically necessary.

And I am seriously just now realizing this as I write this blog post this morning.

This is not the answer that describes us. This is NOT the people we are.

And when I asked weeks ago what made us a challenge, our agency pointed to this question and that it was one that most potential GCs would say no to. At that time, I thought, well there is a difference of philosophy and opinion and one that I am not willing to budge on, even if it takes a little longer to make a connection.

Again, thinking we wrote what I thought we wrote. Which we didn't.

Argh. Argh. Argh.

Here is sat, frustrated that potential GCs haven't expressed themselves adequately, given us a good enough picture of themselves in their words and yet I think we could barely have pictured ourselves worse in the profile we sent in.

I've asked for a "do-over" for our profile. I have a friend or two that have offered to read what we write before we hit SEND this time. And I'm hoping that will make the difference.

I just wish months hadn't gone by before I thought to assess.

Shaking Off the Crazy

Ok. One night back in my own bed with M. by my side has washed away a little of the crazy that has been consuming me this week. I'm feeling much, much better this morning. Sort of. More like resigned. But that'll work.

Now that I'm home its easy to remember that my association life is not the same as the one that I experienced out there in the Midwest. We are not a world of corporate sponsors and people throwing money at us (understatement). We are not about the hoopla. We are mission-based. What I do is real. I was right, that world isn't my world. It really isn't.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not dissing or getting all high and mighty. I'm just saying that at this point in my life, I was just not up for the shmoozing. Or maybe after 4 days I was just completely and totally over one particular person who had latched on to me early on in the conference and I just kept running into again and again and again. I made the mistake of talking him through a mini-crisis he was having on the first night (ailing family member, he as frustrated caregiver, feeling guilty about being frustrated, unfortunately, a common story in my profession and one I was able to speak to) and he decided we were soul mates. And from that point on it felt like I just couldn't shake him. Or his posse. Or all that came with it. So I found myself caught up in trying to avoid this guy as opposed to trying to lock into the sessions I needed to hear or the other contacts I felt I was supposed to be trying to make.

And, on top of that, as I've mentioned, I just didn't want to be there. Jumping straight into the grid after 3 glorious weeks out without time to process and savor and relish those moments was just too much.

But after a good night's sleep next to someone I love I understand that I have to be there. We must be there. Because we still want a child. And there is no way to do that without the assistance of several parties. All of which will cost a lot of money. So, if a baby is in the future, alas, our space on the grid is locked in. That is just how it has to be.

And as if that realization isn't hard enough, as if that leap isn't a massive mind fuck in the best of situations, along comes a nightmare scenario, one to confirm all of the whispering and doubts that play out in people's minds, or at least make surrogacy synonymous with sketch for a lot of people for a little while longer.

Dammit.

And here is where I borrow some words from Mel, because she nails it. Beyond the shock of a story as sucky as this one, beyond the anger and angst you feel on behalf of the people affected, at the heart of it all is this:

I am so fucking angry that I can’t build my family without assistance and because I need to depend on other people in order to form my family. And I am so fucking angry that the majority of people in this world don’t have to navigate the ethical concerns that come with assisted family building. They want a child, they have sex, and they raise said child. And I am so fucking angry that I have to depend on others.

But that's the way it is. So you give yourself a moment to be angry and outraged and indignant and yes a little self-pitying. And then you wipe your tears and get back to your To Do list of all that needs to take place if you want to be a parent.

Let me tell you where we are with all of that.

I may have mentioned before that we have a family member that is a very willing gestational carrier (GC) for us. That in itself is wonderful, but the timing isn't. Its just not the right time right now. So, while this is our #1 best case scenario, it's not one that can play out for another year or so.

In the meantime, M and I decided to look into an agency to see if we could find a gestational carrier through this route. We found an agency that seemed trustworthy, had worked with our doctors and clinic before, and is more affordable than other places folks had recommended. After spending a full Saturday painstakingly filling out an Intended Parent (IP) questionnaire, we started to receive profiles of potential GCs. The first two were prefaced with an "I think you'll really like them!" by the head of the agency.

We looked at each of the documents and were overwhelmingly underwhelmed. To the point of tears. Responses to questions we had spent time agonizing over were replaced by excessive exclamation points and smiley faces and all caps. I LOVE babies!!!!! (squeeeeee)

Ok, the squee was mine, but at first glance M and I fell back down into our pit of despair.

One of my buddies is exasperated with me. She can't see why any of that matters if there is someone ready and healthy and willing to help us get the child we want. Yes, dude. For a fee. For a substantial fee. And sorry, if I'm paying that substantial fee, I feel I have more than a little skin in the game. I feel I have a right to be a little picky.

And I don't see this as a nine-month proposition. This is someone who will be connected to your life and the life of your child indefinitely. Whether there is constant communication or not. Whether there is a good relationship or not. This person would always be the person that birthed our baby. So I don't want my first impression of that person to be, "hmmm, meh. I guess she'll do." I want it to be, "wow! I cannot wait to meet this person. I hope she likes me too."

I'm wondering if we need to re-evaluate our expectations. And here is where I would LOVE any of you who have already been through this to tell me to a.) stick to my guns or b.) get my head out of my ass.

And while I'm soliciting reader feedback, what do you think about this:

We are thinking about sending out a mass email to friends and family giving them an update on our situation and asking them if anyone knows anyone that would be interested in being a gestational carrier for us. The email would make it clear that there is no need for a response to this - just throwing it out there before we continue down the road with an agency, because obviously, we would so much rather build our family around people that we know and love.

How would you feel if you got an email like that? Is it too much? Pushy? Presumptuous? Would you think we were desperate and out of our minds? M.'s preferred method is a FB status update asking if anyone wants to be our baby mama. I think that's a bit much. But maybe it isn't?

**

BTW, for those waiting for Australia highlights and photos, swear to goddess its on a To Do list. Need to dig myself out of emails and phone messages and all that first. Short answer: It was incredible. You should go.