Second Trimester: The part where the waters are calm and sailing is smooth

Let the flogging commence: This blogger has seriously neglected the duties required of the position. Let me see if I can make up for it by penning a thoughtful and (hopefully) somewhat humorous update of what life has been like while incubating the fetus since my last update.

We left off at 12 weeks 1 day with the anticipation of our 14 week regular OB appointment on the horizon. The appointment seemed to come up quite quickly on the last day of August, with the new OB and I having another engaging 15 minutes while she checked out my little belly buddy. All was well with the little guy, and she scheduled me for the next routine appointment 4 weeks later. Almost in passing, she also mentioned that she hadn't told anyone yet, but she was going to be leaving at the end of October, so I should probably start thinking about who I might want to switch my OB care to. I tucked that little nugget of information away to process later for a couple of reasons. First, I was really disappointed because I had so enjoyed the appointments that I'd had with her over the short 6 months that we had a doctor-patient relationship, and I loathed the idea of trying to find another OB that I would have the same rapport with. In the 11 years that I have been seeking and receiving OB care, I have found that there are a small handful that I have loved, several that met the needs but didn't knock my socks off, and another handful that should consider a career change. Aside from the tedious nature of trying to pin down a new OB love, my second reservation was that I didn't want Mandy and Wes to stress about the change. This is the first baby and their first ride on the OB merry-go-round, so I didn't want this news to be upsetting to them. So with 60 days to go before I had to do something about it, I thought it best to just put it on the shelf temporarily. Next appointment was set for the last few days of September. In the meantime, one of my co-workers delivered a beautiful baby girl at 40 weeks and 6 days. She kicked off the year of babies in our department. There are 4 of us that do the same job; she delivered her baby the first week of September, I will deliver the bean in late February, and one of our other teammates will deliver her first baby in early April. Needless to say, we have no shortage of estrogen flowing in this hallway! *Cue all of the "there must be something in the water" jokes. With Babypalooza in full swing, along with it comes an almost steady stream of maternity leave. So September through the end of November have been packed even more full of making sure all of the projects are properly managed and moving forward.

Along came the end of September and our 18 week regular OB appointment. By this time, Mandy and I had been having a conversation about the hospital and our delivery plans, which provided a perfect segue to relay issue of the pending OB transition. Letting her know about it was the easier of the two tasks; actually identifying and committing to a new OB was a job that I still wasn't ready to tackle just yet. Instead, I just showed up at the appointment and went on with the usual routine. Lovely Outgoing OB did her usual assessments of the babe, determined he was doing great, right on track, and set me up for an appointment 4 weeks later. Falling at the end of October, this would be the last one where we would get to see her, but she let me know that any of her partners would be happy to take on my care. I tried to probe a little further with her to see if she had some insight that would help me make a solid match with one of her partners, but she just gave a me a sweeping "they would all be great and do a good job for you" statement. Still, I had another month to figure it out, and an anatomy ultrasound coming up in between at 20 weeks, so I didn't dwell on it too much.

The big ultrasound day arrived a short 2 weeks later in mid-October. Although feeling a bit buried by the amount of work I had been juggling, I was very excited to take a quiet morning to spend with Mandy and Wes (albeit over Skype) for the ever-anticipated anatomy scan. I enjoyed being able to share the experience with them, although, admittedly, it was a bit anti-climactic. Everything measured perfectly, even about a week ahead (recall that this little guy has been an overachiever all along). The technician confirmed, decidedly, that belly buddy is, in fact, a boy. Mandy and Wes watched and listened throughout the scan without saying much. I was hoping that they were enjoying the glimpse of their little man. We had a nice long phone call after the appointment where they told me they were relieved that everything looked good, and we talked about the 3D/4D ultrasound that we scheduled for the first week of December where they would get a really good look at his face, features, and adorable little toes. They now had even greater anticipation of seeing him on that upcoming scan. They also asked me about scheduling a fetal echocardiogram, as is common in IVF pregnancies. Seemed easy enough, right?? Famous last words...

I called the OB's office the following week to inquire about the fetal echo. The nurse (medical assistant? not sure...) that I spoke with told me that they don't routinely do a fetal echo on their patients, so I shouldn't worry about it. Now, maybe it's the pregnancy hormones, but there's something about the way this conversation went that drives me bananas. If I call a professional's office with a professional question that is decidedly outside of the norm of their day-to-day activities, I expect a professional to weigh the question and respond based on their acquired skills and knowledge in their field of practice. I don't expect (and don't even want, in fact) one of the paraprofessionals on the team to dismiss the question without due consideration. In this case, I more explicitly asked the person on the phone to discuss it with Lovely Outgoing OB. A week went by without a response, so I called again. This time the person on the phone seemed very annoyed to be asked a second time, but said she would call me back with an answer. Five minutes later she called to say they were not going to order it and that we didn't need one. I asked why they don't order them if it's common practice for IVF pregnancies in light of ACOG's support of fetal echos at 24 weeks following IVF based on statistically significant increases in heart disease and heart conditions in IVF babies versus naturally conceived. Again, I got annoyed stuttering and an "I'll call you back". Ten minutes later she called back and this time seemed to relay Lovely Outgoing OB's irritation with being questioned. She told me that the request was specific to IVF and if we wanted it done we should get the RE to order the echo. Ouch. I hung up, sufficiently hormonal, unsure what to do with that response. First, I let Mandy know what they said, then I went to work as I always do when I need to gather solid information: a review of scientific literature. I was happy to find, among the plethora of documentation of rationale for doing a fetal echo around 24 weeks for IVF fetuses, a study of several hundred IVF pregnancies that showed that although that is true, there were no findings of cardiac irregularities in patients that first had a normal anatomy scan. So that's to say that all of the IVF babies with cardiac disease or abnormalities also showed those on the 20 week scan prior to the fetal echocardiogram. With that information in hand, Mandy and I talked it over and decided not to push the issue further based on the bean's normal cardiac findings on the 20 week anatomy scan. Whew... crisis narrowly averted. On the other hand, I had to go back to see Lovely Outgoing OB in a couple of weeks, and I wasn't entirely sure what her demeanor would be like when we were face to face.

Two more weeks rolled by and we were back to see Lovely Outgoing OB for our 22 week appointment. She started by asking me what we decided on the fetal echocardiogram issue. I was impressed that she just jumped right in with that, and that she acted like we somehow had a choice. Definitely not something that her office staff relayed to me over the phone a couple of weeks prior. Regardless, ready to move on, I told her we were good with the anatomy scan results and were not planning to pursue the fetal echo. She gave a long, detailed explanation of her lack of experience in RE medicine, but that she felt the push for echos on fetuses that demonstrated a normal 20 week anatomy scan was motivated more by RE's and Maternal Fetal Medicine specialists that are so accustomed to visualizing their patients through ultrasound that they get into a rut of thinking they need it when sometimes they don't. Fair enough. I appreciated the professional opinion and rationale rather than "the answer is no and if you don't like it, get someone else to order it for you." Both content, we went on with our usual business; a few questions, a little measuring and a couple of jokes to round out our final appointment. When she measured my fundal height, she noted that it was a little big for our dates. I asked by how much and she said "1 cm... I could call it 2, but I don't want to freak you out. It's about 1.5 over the 22 cm we're expecting." I filed it away, knowing that I had a gestational diabetes test coming up at the next appointment and secretly praying that I wasn't measuring big because I had GD making the baby larger than normal. To wrap up the appointment, she asked me who I would like to see for my next appointment. I had decided to switch to one of her partners that I had heard good things about and had great online reviews. They scheduled me for an appointment with Partner OB for 4 weeks later at the end of November, although that appointment would be scrapped before we ever even got close to Thanksgiving.

More Discussions, More Decisions, More Waiting

 Spring Break is almost here! Another couple of months have passed in the life of this stork, and as usual, they have been filled with constant activity, decision making and change. When we last caught up, Ellie and Matt were in the process of grieving the loss of their second and last embryo, and I was in a state of uncertainty about where that left us on this stork adventure. A couple of weeks after my last post, the three of us sat down on for a Skype chat to discuss where we were at and what direction we were going. Ellie and Matt had a call with the RE earlier in the week and were able to ask all of the questions that they had to try to wrap their minds around how they got to this point. In my second-hand version of that conversation, it sounded like the RE told them that they were victims of bad luck. He told them that the success rate of PGD normal embryos is about 70%, and that he didn't see any reason for the two failures other than being unlucky enough to fall into the 30% group both times. He offered to perform a wide range of testing on me if it would make them feel more comfortable before the next transfer. I later was able to have a call of my own with him where he told me that he thought such testing would show that there's no definable explanation, but rule out any fears that they may have about my ability to carry. As I understand, the testing is quite expensive, but I told Ellie and Matt that I would be on board with any testing that they may want the RE to do. They told me that they wanted to take some time to consider all of their options. When they started this journey, they never imagined that it would take more than one transfer to get pregnant. When the first transfer failed, they were certain that the second one would succeed. So when the second embryo miscarried, they found themselves in a situation that they had not at all expected or planned for, emotionally or financially. They asked me if I was willing to wait a few months while they investigated other clinics and protocols, and saved some money for future retrievals and transfers. Later in the conversation, Ellie eluded to an estimated November or December transfer which was a bit longer than I had anticipated.

Afterwards, I was talking to Scott and wondering if I would go stir crazy waiting nearly a year for the next transfer. In the meantime, I received a call from my previous agency asking if I was currently working with any IPs and suggesting a couple that they would love to match me with. Omph! Here was a tough decision. I love Ellie and Matt, and want nothing more than to help them build their family. But as you know, I was not blessed with an abundance of patience. I decided that the best way to determine the next steps was to open the topic up to Ellie and Matt to see what they thought. I wasn't sure if they really were hoping for a December transfer, or wanted more time but were afraid that I wouldn't hang on for longer than that. I presented them with the idea of terminating our current contract and reactivating it when they are ready with 12-18 months in between where I could help another couple in building their family. After thinking about it for a while, Ellie let me know that she and Matt agreed that it would be a good idea for everyone if we went that route. Rather than terminating our contract though, we are amending it to be on hold until we reactivate it at a later date.

That brought me to a point of deciding which couple I would be working with. The agency had called me about a specific couple, but I really would like to work with a couple that is at the same clinic that Matt and Ellie use so that I don't have to repeat the medical screening and psychological evaluation. I also would like to work with IPs that have frozen embryos and are ready to transfer quickly. I found a couple that are very kind and sweet with 4 high quality PGD tested frozen embryos. My first instinct is that I would love to help them, but they are very set on their clinic on the East Coast. I dipped my toes into the water to see if their clinic would at least accept my medical screening and/or psychological screening from the previous clinic. They were not open to that, so I am a bit reluctant on this match, although I did send in my records for review with their clinic. As I understand it, their clinic is extra picky about the surrogates that they approve in order to maximize their success rates. This also makes me a bit reluctant in thinking that we could get a couple of months into this process only to have the clinic decide that they won't work with me for some reason. In the meantime, I connected with a set of IPs with 9 frozen PGD tested embryos at the clinic in TransferCity. I spoke with them over the phone and had a pretty good conversation. In the following week they were in touch to say that they would really like to match and move quickly, but only if I was willing to pay for expenses incurred at the IVF clinic because my insurance wouldn't cover them. I politely bowed out of the matching discussion and wished them well. This week, the agency called me to say that they have another couple that they would like me to meet. This couple is local, and we had a great phone conversation last night. At this point, I'm not sure if I'm leaning more toward the local couple or the East Coast couple, but I'm going to have to make a decision and go with it soon. I'm keenly aware that the longer the matching process takes, the longer the break is for Ellie and Matt.

Let It Go

Let me preface this post with the fact that I'm on a very high dose of estradiol, which is making me quite irritable, and more than a little nauseous (which makes me a little more irritable). No amount of Elsa singing 'Let It Go' will help, although I have the sudden urge to build a snowman. Admit it, you're still in mid-verse "the cold never bothered me anyway!" But I digress: Today's post is more introspective and less hearts and flowers than some of the others. I'm sure that the humor and whimsy will return soon, but today, my thoughts are about the tedious, unproductive nature of worry while trying to conceive.

Stop worrying. Stop thinking about it. Don't let it get to you. Ignore it. It will be what it will be. You can't change it by worrying. It's out of your control. Let it go. I've heard and said each of these things to myself many times, and yet, I find the advice hard to follow. While it's 100% true, I find no comfort in it. Somewhere deep down, I truly believe that if I work harder, try more, wish harder, hope more, and do something different than the next person, I will achieve greater success than they have. In most things in life, this really does hold true. Pregnancy, however, is not one of those things. If you could harness the power all of the hoping and wishing and praying of all of the women that have ever tried to get pregnant for more than one cycle, you could move mountains with it.

But there's a dark side to all of that hoping and wishing and praying: When the one thing that those women had their hopes and dreams set on doesn't happen, doesn't work, or happens and then tauntingly fades away, there's an emotional crash on the backside. Trying to conceive is often a very private adventure full of enthusiasm and excitement. Women daydream about what the positive test will look like, how they'll tell their partner, how their partner will react, how they'll tell their parents, whether or not they'll find out the gender, on and on. And while they're spending a great deal of time getting lost in the joy and visions of what it will be like when baby gets here, nobody entertains what it will be like when the test comes up negative or the doctor shows them an ultrasound with no heartbeat. I mean, who can blame them? You don't want to invite such terrible things to happen. Yet, a majority of the time, those things do happen.

For women trying to get pregnant in their 20s with no fertility issues, the chances of a successful pregnancy are 25%. In other words, they are 3 times more likely to see a stark, one-line negative test than the two lines they've been dreaming of. In their 30s, the likelihood drops to 20% each cycle, and by 40, there's only a 5% chance of successful pregnancy. Of the pregnancies that are achieved, about 1 in 5 will end in miscarriage in the first trimester. The odds are staggeringly pitiful.

So what makes us so punch drunk with visions of onsies and pacifiers and bottles and diaper bags? Certainly there's biology; an internal drive to procreate. But it also seems like the most bitingly painful casino game ever played. You might win big the first time you play - 'hey, my best friend did, so I probably will too.' The random reward schedule keeps you pulling that lever over and over again - 'I've lost so many times, this time HAS to be the winning one.' For women out there like me, we have somehow convinced ourselves that if we "try" hard enough, we'll overcome the odds and find success. I've beat my head against that wall 9 times in trying to conceive my own children. Come to find out, I'm totally normal - statistically speaking. But overachievers don't generally care for 'normal', thus all of the headache and heartache of my unsuccessful cycles.

When I came to the decision to be a stork, however, I was determined to leave the stress and worry to the parents. I wanted to know what it was like to just enjoy the experience of being pregnant. I am still certain that a worry-free pregnancy would be one of the greatest adventures in life, and look forward to it when it happens. Somewhere in the chaos of the hormones and the embryo transfer in August, I slipped back into the overachiever. I wished and I hoped and I tried(?) until the crash. As we embark on our second transfer next week, I am consciously aware that 'it will be what it will be', 'it's out of my control', and I need to 'stop worrying'.

While I know that I'm in a better place to handle whatever result of may come of this next transfer, I also know that it has come at a price. I haven't emailed or Skyped Ellie and Matt as much in the past three weeks as we did leading up to the first transfer. I know that they are excited and nervous, joyful and anxious, and a bundle of all of the emotions that build up in each cycle. While I'm cheering for them in the background, I recognize that I can't ride this roller-coaster with them. This isn't my trying-to-conceive road to walk anymore, and somehow, in watching their journey, I've found my way to letting it go.

Rules of Engagement

It's been quite some time since my last update, but as things go in a stork adventure, there's a lot of slow and tedious work to do be done up front. I look forward to the entries that will tell you all about how the little storkie is growing and moving, kicking up a storm, and demanding bizarre treats at all hours of the day and night. With patience we will get there, but today it's all about contracts and legal procedure.

When we left off a month ago, Ellie and Matt had sent our contractual plans to the CFO of the agency, and we all waited for a contract draft to come our way. I can't speak for Ellie and Matt, but I had a great amount of patience in the first two weeks. Early on in the process, one of the agency directors had mentioned that the typical timeline of the contract phase was 2 weeks to draft the document, and 2-4 weeks of conferring with attorneys while requested changes are made and sent to each others' attorneys for review and further conference. Seems reasonable. So by week 3 I was starting to wonder how things were going (not that I would dare to check in with the agency!). I was counting weeks and days left until July 23 - the day that the contract has to be signed and notarized by all parties, in order to do the transfer on the date scheduled in August - and trying to not get impatient. Ellie emailed me at the 3 week point with great news: The draft would be sent to her within the next 3-5 days. We both went back to our day to day activities while we waited, and we were both completely swamped at work; sufficiently distracted. Five days later, Ellie's attorney contacted her to say that it would be another 4 days before the draft would be done, so back to the distraction of work we went. Life was bustling for both Ellie and I; besides work, all of my kids were out of school and in the full swing of summer activities. We can't even sit down for 10 minutes at our house without having to run out the door to the next activity. Again, it's nice to not be hovering over my email inbox waiting for it to ping. However, when we passed the 4 week mark, and got to the (second) date that the attorney promised the draft and there was still no draft, I was starting to lose my patience. Ellie's attorney sent her a message saying that it would be done early the following week. When it finally arrived in Ellie's inbox (after 4 weeks and 5 days), I have to admit that her attorney did a great job. It was VERY thorough (75 pages!) and sufficiently accurate. After taking a few days to read it over and make comments, Ellie, Matt and I Skyped to discuss our comments and thoughts. We were all quite happy with how it turned out and had only a handful of minor changes, so they were able to send it back to their attorney at the end of last week.

As of today, we're in great shape to finish the contract in time for our target transfer date in August. My attorney should be receiving the completed contract today or tomorrow, we'll have a conference call to review it on Monday, and coo coo cachoo: we'll have a completed contract! This, a full 10 days before we are scheduled to start meds for the transfer. And you were worried that our 9 week lead time wouldn't be enough. Pssshh, we just like living that close to the edge.

So it's time to roll up our sleeves and get to work on the really exciting part of this adventure. Let's make some scientific magic happen! We need to get everything prepped with an impressive, month-long medication protocol involving lupron, estrogen, and progesterone. The countdown is on: 24 days to the first injection. Did I mention that I'm needle-phobic?? I'll be back to let you all know how this goes.

The Nightmare on Agency Street

What a very interesting few weeks it has been since my last check in here. After many more emails and Skype conversations with Ellie and Matt, I can confirm that they are outstanding people, and will be wonderful parents. I really look forward to the opportunities that we have to talk and catch up on how things are going in each other's lives. We are all starting to do the mental projections of time, how pregnant we will be when the next holiday rolls around, or what we'll do the next time that they come to town. It's all very exciting. What's not so exciting is all of the tedious red-tape that has transpired in the past few weeks, and we are very much looking forward to that part being over. As I left off of my last post, I surmised that we would have navigated the jungle of paperwork and be looking at some dates on the calendar for the IVF transfer. The great news is that we have a target transfer date - August 26. I'm thrilled about this, and even have my calendar of medications that will be introduced, ramped up, phased out, etc. as we approach the transfer date. I met with the parents' reproductive endocrinologist (RE) last Friday, contributed 5 vials of blood and a cup of urine, did an ultrasound of my uterus, and went on a magic school bus ride into my uterus to ensure that baby will find the accommodations acceptable. The RE determined that my uterine lining was a little over 10 mm, which is fantastic given that we were shooting for 8 mm or more. Moments after cheering about exceeding our lining goal, the full force of the 20 ml of saline that was injected into my uterus hit me. As the wickedly funny RE noted: That can be a real humdinger. I'm here to confirm his assessment: It was, indeed, a real humdinger. But, alas, everything went splendidly and looked great for the incubation of stork baby. Great news for our goals and the timeline that we have planned. We'll spend the next several weeks finishing up the contract, and I should start the first medication on July 24.

The less pleasant news comes from the jungle of paperwork, and the agency on the other side of that jungle. As you may recall from my previous entries, I started out on this adventure with an agency I really liked, and ventured into some independent communications in order to find the best possible match. When I found that match in Ellie and Matt, I had to make a decision between sticking with the agency that I had been working with or going over to the agency that Ellie and Matt had contracted. I felt like it was asking too much of them to switch to my agency, given the amount of money that they already had invested in deposits and fees with their agency. So as I dove into that jungle of paperwork, part of the enormity of it was in catching up on the information and documentation that they normally would have had pre-match, had I been working with them from the beginning. Although there was a lot of paperwork, Ellie and I had hoped that it would move quickly because the match had already been made, and a lot of the agency's work had been done for them. We would later find out that it did not come as a relief to them to do less matching work, but more of an insult, as you'll see.

We spent the first couple of weeks pulling basic items together like the application, consent forms for medical records release, an agency-surrogate agreement, information for background checks for my husband and I, and setting up the psychological evaluation. As the days passed, I checked in regularly with the co-director of the agency to ensure that everything was progressing in order to stay on target for the August transfer that we were shooting for. I was a little nervous when I found out after a couple of check-ins that the medical records hadn't been requested, and that they were expecting me to request them. But once I found out, I jumped on it, and got the requests faxed over to the clinics and hospitals.  I was also assigned a surrogate coordinator who contacted me to welcome me to the agency family. She was very sweet and bubbly, however, in her second email she made a statement alluding to a situation with my intended parents that didn't have a positive outcome. I was very uneasy about her sharing the information that I thought should come to me from Ellie and Matt, if they chose to share. I decided to avoid any further communication with her, as it seemed like it would only be filled with drama. At a later point in time, in one of our Skype calls, Ellie and Matt did share with me what had happened, and it certainly was not as big of a deal as was alluded to in the email. So we continued to move forward with our to-do list.

My husband and I had a great conversation with the psychologist that did the evaluation, and then we waited. About a week later, I checked in with the co-director to see if all of the records were in, the psychological evaluation results were in, and the background checks were complete. She said that everything was going fine. After another week passed, I got a call from one of the clinics that they hadn't sent my records yet, but were going to the next business day, so I checked in again to see where each of those items were in the process. The co-director responded that everything was fine and that I didn't need to worry about it, but I was a bit nervous about our timeline, given that one of the medical records hadn't been sent yet. I emailed back to say that I was frustrated because I hoping for a status update for each of the items to ensure that we stay on track for our timeline, and that a phone call may help to clear the air. I did receive a phone call, but it did not bring the progress that I was hoping for. She was defensive and demanding, so we came to a common ground and found a quick end to the conversation. The next morning I received an email from the surrogate coordinator that I hadn't heard from in weeks, asking how I was doing with all of the waiting that is involved in surrogacy. Her email was quite obviously prompted by the co-director, so I was frank in my response, saying that everything seemed to be moving along well, and that my only obstacle was in getting information from the co-director. Little did I know what a storm of anger and hatred that would incite!

The tone of the emails from the co-directors of the agency.

The next morning I received an ugly email from the co-director stating that she had removed the coordinator from my case and that she would be doing all of the communicating with me, then she proceeded to chastise me for asking questions and telling the coordinator that she was not responding to the questions that I had previously asked. She suggested another phone call involving the other co-director and the CFO, which looked to me like a verbal flogging was headed my way. Now I'm not one to try to rock the boat, and in general, I work hard to make peace, even in the most difficult of communications, but I'm also not one to tolerate being talked down to or treated badly. So in my response, I noted that I didn't appreciate the tone of her email, that I found it unprofessional, and that I would be glad to have a conference call so long as it was focused on a positive and productive outcome and didn't further deteriorate the working relationship. After several scheduling emails were exchanged, the other co-director sent me an ugly email about my lack of availability and being, in her opinion, overly involved in the process. She included several thinly-veiled threats of refusing to allow me to work with Ellie and Matt. All throughout this flare up of negativity, I was in regular communication with Ellie and Matt, who were completely shocked. They were also confused because the agency was giving them very limited information as to what was transpiring. I forwarded the last email to them, copied the co-director and simply stated that I thought that it would be a good idea for all of us to discuss this together and openly to improve communications. I was met with an immediate response from the co-director stating that I had been terminated from their program. This came as quite a shock and surprise to Ellie and Matt, who were beyond frustrated and exhausted at this point. They wanted to find a way to move forward with me and the agency, and I suggested that we modify our communications such that I didn't want to be in contact with either of the co-directors. Some communication occurred between them and the agency, and I received an email from the co-director stating that Ellie and Matt wanted to continue working with me, so the agency would need a HIPAA authorization form signed in order to move forward.

At this point, I had zero trust in these women, and now she wanted me to sign a form stating that they would have full access to all of my medical information, past, present and future, and that the information gathered could be re-disclosed at will. I was pretty sure that the co-director was getting ready for an awesome witch hunt to find a way to prevent this process from going forward. I decided that I would make a couple of minor changes to the form that would limit the scope of the authorization to the medical situation at hand. I emailed the co-director to ask how she wanted changes made, and she responded by demanding to know what changes I wanted to make and why. In the mean time, she communicated to Ellie and Matt that she would no longer work with them if they continued to use me as their surrogate. As this was the day before my appointment with the RE, it was uncertain whether or not the medical check was actually going to happen. I made the decision to complete the authorization form without limitations in Ellie and Matt's names only, allowing them free access to the information, and sent it in. They were in financial discussions with the agency and emerged to tell me that they had found a way to move forward, and to plan on attending the appointment with the RE. As of last Friday, when I saw the RE, he relayed that he had received an email from the agency stating that they were no longer working with me, Ellie or Matt. He reassured me that we would be fine in working toward the August transfer, regardless of the agency's involvement, which was a huge relief for me as well as for Ellie and Matt.

In the 6 days that have passed since that appointment, I have been working closely with Ellie and Matt to finish the details of the contract, and they have passed them along to the CFO at the agency. It appears that the agency is working with Ellie and Matt to complete the legal and financial aspects of the process, and I've been able to remove myself from their line of fire. I hope that they continue to work toward the goal that Ellie and Matt have put in front of them and paid them for, and I'm truly optimistic that the worst of it is behind us. My final thought on the agency from hell is this: I now have an even greater appreciation for the kindness of the agency that I started with, and hope to work with them again in the future.

There are many stories of unfathomably terrible experiences in surrogacy, of which, this pales in comparison. For that reason, I fully expect to see much greater legal regulation of surrogacy in the not too distant future. Surrogacy is becoming more common in the U.S. and abroad, and is a relatively unregulated market here with an overabundance of financial transactions closely tied to emotional decision-making: A recipe for disaster. I wouldn't be surprised to see the U.S. adopt legislation similar to Canada that prevents surrogates from receiving money or gifts outside of intended parents paying for directly related pregnancy and delivery expenses. From an ethics standpoint, I think it's likely necessary to keep the surrogacy market from entering a tailspin of ugly experiences with money and greed at the core of the motivation.

Parents and Paperwork

Happy Easter! It was a wonderful and relaxing holiday in our home. It's been a few weeks since my last blog post, and as I promised, a parent decision has been made. After taking some time to consider all of the potential parents and communicating with them openly, the decision became very clear. The future parents, Ellie and Matt, are an international couple that, incidentally, share commonalities with me such as age, education, career and life ambitions. They have a wonderful sense of humor, and are open to the fun and excitement that lie ahead. Unfortunately, infertility can be fraught with devastation and disappointment to the point of creating anxiety-riddled pessimism in people that, otherwise, have very happy-go-lucky personalities. I consider myself extraordinarily lucky to have connected with a great set of future parents that are glowing with a beautiful inner light of optimism, eagerness, and enthusiasm. After weeks of emailing and a fantastic Skype conversation, I am elated to to be sharing this experience with them. I can't wait for the moment when the obstetrician hands them their goo-covered bundle of joy, and they realize that all of their efforts have culminated in this one moment of sheer bliss. To be honest, that's exactly what motivated to me to become a stork in the first place.

So here we are, at the precipice of a truly awe-inspiring, life altering experience, and it starts just like any other major undertaking: with paperwork. There are about 7,359 different forms to fill out or signatures to be gathered. Medical records from previous pregnancies and deliveries must be compiled and reviewed, an extensive questionnaire must be completed to assess my lifestyle and ideological viewpoints, and a background check and psychological evaluation must be completed (for good reason: If you're looking for some jaw-dropping, head-shaking, dumbfounding type of entertainment, check out some of the online advertisements and forum discussions regarding surrogacy). Once all of that information is pulled together and properly appraised, the IVF clinic will need additional paperwork to establish me as a patient, and then they'll schedule an appointment to collect copious amounts of blood and get a good long look at my girl bits. Upon clearing all of the red tape, we'll do some legal paperwork, and get down to the business of making a miracle happen. Hopefully, by my next update, we will have sorted through the jungle of documents, and have penciled out some dates for making the scientific magic happen.

50 First Dates

It's been an interesting few weeks since I last checked in. As of my last post, the agency that I'm working with sent my profile off to the first set of potential parents, and we all sat back with bated breath and waited. And waited. And waited some more. Spring break came and went, and the agency called to say that all of my medical records had arrived, and everything looked good. In my usual, impatient style, I spent a great amount of time combing through the threads on various surrogacy forums. I tried my best to not think about what the potential parents could be considering - I mean, it's a Skype call, not a marriage proposal! But alas, my impatience won out once again, and I leisurely perused the classified ads of the aforementioned forums.

I find them intriguing, both from the standpoint of a potential stork, as well as wondering what potential parents must think of some of these ads that other storks post. I had visited these ads many times, and always thought that if there was an ad from a set of parents that really jumped up and grabbed me, that I would go ahead and send them a reply. That never actually happened, but it made me wonder if there were some awesome parents out there, hovering over the ads everyday, thinking "If there was an ad from a stork that really jumped up and grabbed me, I would totally send them a reply." And so it was; a relatively fleeting thought that manifested itself into an ad placed on one of those forums. An ad that emphasized that I was looking for parents to share the adventure and excitement of the journey with.

I'm not sure exactly what I expected, but the responses were numerous, and varied in their approach. I heard from several couples at various stages of their surrogacy journey, from just finding out that they would need to use a gestational carrier to having previously used a carrier and looking for a carrier to bring a sibling into the family. Interestingly enough, all of those emails came from intended mothers. I also received several from agencies trying to recruit me, but I simply deleted those. I love the agency I'm working with and have no desire to switch. Then there were the weird ones: A single middle-eastern man that wanted to have a child to aid him in securing a wife, and offered "double what the agency will pay" while writing to me in a tone that indicated that he believed that I was a commodity to be purchased for this period of incubation. There was also an intended father that emailed to ask a host of standard questions, along with a thorough list of questions probing every facet of my religious affiliation and activity level, which seemed a little too assertive for the first interaction. Oh, and I can't forget about the intended mother that asked me about my stance on termination, and when she wasn't happy with my response, sent me a reply stressing that my opinion was wrong and I needed to adopt hers. When I failed to reply, she emailed again a week later with an additional attempt to persuade me into her opinion. I politely responded to her, noting that it seemed that we were not on the same page with that issue, and that I had emphasized in the ad my desire for a strong relationship with the parents, which it didn't seem like we were developing, so I would not likely be her best option for a carrier. To my surprise, she responded again to say that, like the previous point, on this, too, I was wrong. That there is nothing in a surrogacy contract that requires parents to have a relationship with their surrogate, and rarely do surrogates get any contact after the birth of the child. Me choosing not to respond was the only way to stop that madness. But in the midst of the myriad of emails, there were a handful of gems.

There were emails from 5 different intended mothers that hit right on the bullseye. These women were exactly what I had envisioned: watching the ads, hoping for a stork to place an ad that really grabbed them, and looking for someone that they could really develop a relationship with throughout the process. We've spent the past couple of weeks emailing back and forth. Three of them live in the same state that I do, one is a plane trip away, and one is abroad. Over the course of the email conversations, the more finite details of each of our goals and wishlist items have come out, which has allowed me to encourage three of them on to finding a slightly better stork for their wishlists, and left me with two sets of parents that I know that I would love to work with. In a matter of a couple of weeks, I went from impatiently waiting for one set of parents to respond to having more parents than I have womb space for.

In the meantime, the agency called to say that they have a different set of parents that they think would be a good match, and sent me a profile to look over; no mention of the first set of parents, but that's probably a good thing at this point. The agency director asked if I would have a phone meeting with them later in the week, to which I agreed and figured that it would help me to make some final decisions on which set of parents to work with. So at the end of the week, we had a phone meeting that went really well, and these potential parents want to set up a face-to-face meeting in the near future. Just to recap, after what has felt like 50 first (email/phone) dates, I am now looking at a set of potential parents that I've had great casual email communication with that live abroad (parents A), a set of parents that I have only met through the agency, but have talked to and really like their personalities (parents B), and a set of potential parents that I've had very in-depth bonding email communications with that live several states away (parents C). I have no idea which way I'm leaning at this point. At any given moment, I oscillate from one to the next for one specific reason or another. All 3 sets of parents would be amazing to work with, and I sincerely wish that I could help all of them. As of today, I'm not sure which direction this will go in, but I'm sure that by the next time I sit down to blog, a decision will have be made.

Finding the Parents

Did I end my last post with "patiently waiting"?? Well, I have to admit that patience has never been my greatest attribute. Although I take a slow, cautious and thoughtful approach to most things in life, once I've made up my mind about something, I have the patience of a child in the days leading up to their birthday. And making the decision to take the leap into being the stork is no different.

As I noted last week, it had been about one week since I sent all of my paperwork over to the agency. They now had a full-profile to share with potential parents, and all of the forms that they needed to pull my OB-related medical records. I knew that I needed to wait for them to put all of the records together, look over them to ensure that there are no medical issues of concern, then start considering potential parents that they know of that are looking for a stork. Did I mention that waiting patiently isn't really my thing? The impatience got the better of me on Monday, and I sent my agency director an email to check on how things were going. She responded quickly and told me that although she doesn't yet have all of my medical records, that she had attached the profile of a set of parents that she has in mind that she would like me to consider.

There was a flood of excitement in knowing that I was holding information on, what could be, the parents of my first stork delivery. I dove into speed-reading through the pages. As I took it all in, I circled back to several key pieces of information; the infertility struggle, the preferred transfer method, and most importantly, the desired relationship between parents, stork, and the future babe. Studying and re-reading these sections is where the impatient side of me took a backseat to the slow, cautious, thoughtful side. As I approach this adventure, I know, without a doubt, that my main goal is to make someone's long-held dream of being a parent come true. All of the other aspects of the adventure are secondary to fostering the joy and excitement that will come from finally realizing the amazing rush of pure happiness that they have been waiting so long for. In order to lay the foundation for that type of experience, I think that it's very important to embark on this adventure with parents that want to be involved in the process, are hoping for a close relationship with the stork, and are open to maintaining communication and updates after delivery.

So I sat on the profile for a couple of days, re-reading it several times and asking my husband to read through it before we talked about our impressions of it. After letting it all sink in, I sent the director an email saying that I thought there was potential, although I had a couple of hesitations; most notably that the desired relationship sounded less involved than I was hoping for. On the other hand, I recognize that it can be very difficult to read something like that in a short paragraph. Again she responded quickly and let me know that she has had the opportunity to meet and interact with these potential parents on multiple occasions, and that she believes that they are hoping for a similar level of involvement and relationship development as I am. She suggested that we meet via Skype in a couple of weeks, allowing me an opportunity to get a better glimpse of the potential parents personalities and level of involvement, then determine if I think it's a good fit, or if I still have reservations. That sounds like a solid plan to me, so I'll once again (patiently?) standby for the next step in the stork adventure.

Gearing Up for a Stork Adventure

Several weeks ago, I was pondering the struggles of a friend that has been unable to create a family. I really felt for her and what she was wanting so badly to have in her life. I thought about how inconsiderate it must feel to her when I complain about my misbehaving children or joke about giving them away. I wondered about the extent of her infertility; Is her difficulty in getting pregnant, or carrying the pregnancy, or both? Does she have the ability to ovulate fertile eggs? What infertility treatments has she investigated? Then a random thought hit me: If the problem is only in gestating the future fetus, I've got a perfectly good oven that I don't plan on ever using again. I would be more than happy to lend the space to her if she needs it. After some time and serious consideration between my husband and I, that entire conversation played out with her. I didn't expect a decision in that moment, or any time soon for that matter (whether or not to add a family member is a huge decision not to be taken lightly!), but after talking with her, I just couldn't shake this feeling that this is something that I really want to do for potential parents that have struggled through the heartbreak of infertility.

As a woman in my early thirties, I am very fortunate to be a mother of four - two babes that I gave birth to, and two bonus babes that were a package deal when I married my husband. Our family and home lives are very well-established, and we have no desire to add any more siblings to our wild brood. But with several years of fertility ahead of me, I realized that I have the ability to provide this wonderful opportunity to a couple in need. So, as I give my friend an abundance of time to consider all of her options, including if using a gestational surrogate is something that she and her husband would ever want to do, I have decided to move forward with providing this opportunity to another set of potential parents in the meantime.

I heavily researched the process, agencies, articles and forums dedicated to surrogacy. I learned all of the acronyms and listened to all of the joyfully triumphant success stories, as well as all of the tear-filled accounts of intended parents and surrogates alike whose experiences did not unfold as expected. There were as many cautionary tales as excitement-filled birth stories, and as many articles and discussion threads on contracts and agencies as there were on embryo transfers, pregnancies and deliveries. I spent a great amount of time reading and wrapping my mind around the logistics and emotions of the entire process, and then started feeling out a few agencies. I stuck with my intuition when I contacted and communicated with each of them, rejecting some and moving forward with only those that I felt comfortable with. After a few days, the right agency was obvious to me. The director was coming through my town the next day and called to ask if I would have a lunch meeting. We sat and talked for about an hour and half, and again, my intuition told me that this was exactly who I wanted to help me find a great set of parents to help out on this journey. It's now been a week since I finished my paperwork with them, so I'm now in standby mode, patiently waiting for them to introduce me to some potential parents in need of a stork.