Because I'm Nosy....

Hey, do you do holiday cards?

Xmas? Chanukah, Festivus?
Photo cards? Straight up hallmark? Homemade?
Do you write nice long notes or just initial, lick and send?

Do you make your partner sign or do you forge his/her signature to save time (guilty. here.)

Do you only send to folks who've sent you a card?
Do you trim your list?

eCards or paper?

What do you do with holiday cards once you get them? Hang 'em up? Go, oh, isn't that nice? Then pitch 'em? Re-use, recycle them?

I'll check back in a bit and share our answers. In the meantime, behold the golden pierog! [thx to Alexandra for the edit]

Farewell, Christopher

Damn, Friday. You sure took your own sweet time in getting here.

Whatever. Welcome. I ain't madatcha. As long as you don't throw any left hooks into what looks to be an pretty uneventful day. You already started on a little bummer of a note - I was sad to hear of Christopher Hitchens passing. But glad in knowing he was feisty and opinionated until the end.

Sure, there is a lot to not like about Hitchens. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'll get static from M for my status updates and tweets this morning praising him. He glorified the vices of smoking and drinking and I'm guessing he could easily draw you to tears and get some glee from it if you got on his bad side. But I can say this - every time I have read or heard him, there was always at least a moment, often more, where I thought:

"damn. I wish I had written that."

I recall driving a few hours to a work meeting and listening to an interview on public radio. His voice was tired and a bit slow, but the aggression was still there. He wondered aloud about what was so fucking "noble" about "fighting" cancer and questioned the language of the "survivor." I so wish I had exact quotes to share with you this morning but the gist of his questioning was:

how can they say I am fighting cancer when this disease has waged a war on me? AND it's truly kicking my ass. We're all pretty well aware of who will eventually win. This was not my choice, not my design, nothing I needed to prove to myself. I am simply trying not to die.

There is no bravado here. Simply words that I think most people living with or through cancer have often felt. I know I have. Stop making me out to be a goddamn hero and just stop pushing poison into my veins m'kay? I never tried to be brave. In fact, I don't recall ever, ever, ever having a choice in the matter. Which was pretty much Hitchens' point, made far more eloquently.

"He seldom produced an uninteresting sentence," is what the Washington Post said this morning.

Whoa.

What writer doesn't strive for this to be his/her eulogy? What tribute means more than this?

If you've never read any of Hitchens' essay, might I suggest this one? Because I think there are some pieces here to which we can all relate:

"...one thing that grave illness [or loss, my insertion] does is to make you examine familiar principles and seemingly reliable sayings. And there’s one that I find I am not saying with quite the same conviction as I once used to: In particular, I have slightly stopped issuing the announcement that “Whatever doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.”

Psst...You've Got Like 5 Days

...To figure out which one of your awesome posts you want to share with the world via the 2011 Creme de la Creme.

I'm browsing through my archives tonight. Oh 2011, you are not the year I thought you would be, but you weren't too terrible either. I'm chuckling at some of our antics, wincing at others. As always, looking forward. Onward and upward.

But taking a few minutes to look through where you've been isn't a bad exercise either. And I do mean a few minutes - did I post at all this year? Seems not a lot. S'ok. I'll make it up to you. Promise. And since I have all this extra time, I thought I would remind you to get in there too. The Creme de la Creme is compiled with love and is filled with great reading for a snowy wintry night (or sunny balcony, depending on your neck of the woods).

Have you hit send yet? Hunh? Didya?

So Much for "For the People, By the People..."

I'm in serious need of a pep talk.

Shit is getting me down, people. Not so much Life, I can manage that. It's the work part. Not my work as in office, office mates, tasks, etc, It's the usual brand of well-meaning loony there and I can easily handle that. It's - how do I explain this - it's the realization that you are coming up against people in power that are saying pretty bluntly, "oh, you're concerned? Oh ok. Hmm, you're worried that this and this will create irreparable harm to that and these people? Oh, that's interesting and all but WE DON'T REALLY GIVE A SHIT. This is our plan and we're sticking to it. And by the way this is all for your own good. I would say this hurts me more than it hurts you, but I'd be wrong [insert maniacal laugh here]"

And this sentiment appears to be endorsed at the highest levels. Except for the maniacal laugh. I added that.

I've been in several meetings this week that have made me feel helpless, useless, ineffectual, victimized, close to tears. And I was not alone. I looked around the rooms and saw my feelings echoed in faces representing other interests, other people in need. And we looked at each other and our eyes said, "Fucked. We are all totally fucked."

I keep waiting for one of my colleagues to talk me down off the ledge. To tell me, "dude, you are overreacting and being dramatic. Knock it off." But no. They are telling me to scooch over and make some room for them.

And I'm not used to this. In my profession, there is always a push and pull, a give an take. Sometimes you succeed; many times you don't. For the most part, there is at least a little, if even the tiniest, place for reason. Rational thought. Logical arguments. And when those fail, appeals to humanity.

I am finding myself in a place where it feels like there is no fucking humanity and I am feeling too angry and hurt to be effectual. Too stunned to react. I'm not used to being this much of an underdog.

Oh, except in that one other arena:

Our friend and volunteer potential maybe hopeful GC requested her medical records and we're waiting around for that process. Meanwhile, that other iron in the fire has gone cold.

I checked in with our agency this week thinking that our last conversation would have opened up all kinds of options for us. Turns out, no. they can think of NO ONE who might want to be our baby mama.

And now I am at the point where I'm like, you know what? I'm pretty sure it's not me. It's you.

I'm not going to break into a Morrissey croon here, because I know that I am NOT unlovable so you can just stop trying to tell me. If we were, why would three women that know us well have already tried to sign up for this gig? if we were so flipping incompatible with other humans, one would guess the whole damn world would want to walk wide circles around us. But they don't. So....

On to the next one.

Some of you who have used surrogates and gestational carriers have shared your agencies and recommendations with us. Thank you. We will be setting up some exploratory conversations with one or two of these. I jokingly brought up the suggestion to head to Canada to M last night and he was ready to pack our bags. I'm guessing international surrogacy brings about a whole different batch of issues, but I'm not opposed to learning more. So, holla at us any one reading who has crossed national borders in your baby making journey. I would love to know your story.

We joked about creating a FB or webpage last night. Only it's not funny. It's sounding kind of like not that horrible of an idea. I know at least one or two of you have (successfully) taken this route for adoption. Would you be willing to share your experiences with us? Legal ramifications? Not necessarily here if you don't want to, but via email or even (gasp) offline?

And meanwhile, we're finding time to sit down and talk with our friend and hopeful GC to put some meat on the bones of that plan. That is our #1 choice, but we just want to be ready if it seems as if it's not going to work out.

I'm not mad at our agency. It's been a learning experience. And I'm hoping we can take what we've learned and move forward towards a family. At least until some batshit crazy senator decides that third party reproduction should be restricted....

Oh you think that can't happen? Go take a look at your elected officials, friends. Things are getting very, very strange out there.

See? Bitter. I'm getting bitter. Pep talk needed in aisle three! Stat!

Grief and Gratitude

7:00 am - hear M dry heaving in the bathroom. Yegads, that doesn't sound good.

7:15 am - M leaves for work but cancels his dentist appt so he's not "smelly of sick." I blame weight of the day. He's more pragmatic and blames cheap beer from the comedy show we went to last night in our quest to avoid staying home for any prolonged period of time this weekend. He's probably right. PBR, you are the devil. A sick-bellied devil.

7:30 am - I check my calendar, and cancel morning meetings and calls. Close my eyes, and defiantly fall back asleep on the couch. Fuck you world. I ain't doing shit for you today. At least for as long as I can avoid it.

9:00 am - call from boss wakes me up. Wondering what's on my plate for today. "As little as possible," I respond. "You ok?" Sure. You? Sure, she says. Reminding me that I am not the only person in the world with woes. She doesn't pry. I don't either. But it's clear we'll be gentle with each other today.

Three years ago, they were here. Today they are not.

Five years ago, we promised each other to do whatever we were able to have a child. Today, we are still longing, and trying, and wanting.

The grief evolves. The absence remains.

Luckily, so does our love for each other (damn, it is solid), and our determination, and the support of our friends and family, even when said family doesn't always know how best to express it. I just got a call from y brother who sheepishly confessed: "I just "liked" you FB status, but that doesn't mean I "like" it but I didn't know what to say so I did that but then I thought oh crap that's not what I mean so I thought I'd better call you and just tell you I love you."

Well shit. You can't really ask for more than that, can you?

***

Right now, I am home. Skipping a luncheon, avoiding a deadline. Eventually I will have to show my face at a 1:30 meeting I can't figure out how to get out of. Then another at 4:30, then another until about 6 pm. But right now, I am here. Looking through the meager handful of photos we have, feeling their blankets, touching their tiny, tiny foot and hand impressions. How could they have been so small? So beautifully and perfectly formed? How could Jovi have M's nose? How could we see poise and grace in Isa, defiance and spunk in J? If I was projecting, how could M have the exact same thoughts? So much to see in those tiny faces that would be nearing 3 years old today.

When does this get easier?

***

Right now tears are forming, not from pain or sad, but from being overcome with emotion. Texts and emails and notes started seeping in this morning before I even opened my eyes for the second time. I am touched. We are touched, by the outpouring of love and abiding and simple kindness we are seeing today. It is humbling. And strengthening. Because I know this is not an easy time of year for many of you, for a myriad of reasons. To reach out and share your love...it renders me speechless.

Notes from friends remind me of how much we were cared for when we returned home empty handed three years ago. In the midst of our raw grief, we were weepy. We were cavalier and stone-faced. We made inappropriate jokes. We winced at innocuous comments. We were fragile. We were invincible. We were needy and wanted company. We were offended at social demands and wanted to be left alone. We had to have been simply unbearable.

And yet we were picked up and held and loved and fed and reminded to bathe (um, sorry) and taught little by little how to be human again. And for the most part, I think we succeed. On most days.

Thank you. For everything. Thank you.

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).