We've taken on a lot, and somehow managed to stay in tact. Living life now as a family of 4!

The truth is, it's never enough. I can't get enough of Rudi. That's not to say I don't play around on my phone, or watch tv or do chores while we're at home - all those things happen. But they usually happen with Rudi asleep or nursing or somehow on my body. And it's never enough! Every day I'm so happy and grateful for his existence and excited to see him grow and develop and also a teensy bit sad that every day brings us closer to the day he won't need me any more. Is that insane? I think it's probably insane. I sometimes feel quite frantic about it. Time is already moving too fast and at the same time I just try to soak up all the seconds and focus on being in the moment. This balance between enjoying what is happening now and just living in it with the knowledge that, barring a(nother) miracle, Rudi will be our only child sometimes drives me a bit batty in my head. Not all the way batty, just enough that when people say 'it's ok if yo...

So in my last post, I mentioned that I am nursing Rudi. Lots of people are surprised and amazed by this, and to be honest, so am I. It turns out that all adult women, whether or not they've given birth, can in theory produce breastmilk. Breasts and mammary glands work on a feedback loop: if your body thinks you need milk, it will produce milk! Crazy, hey? Before Rudi was born, I saw my doctor and followed this protocol w hich has been developed to help other moms of babies born via surrogate or adoptive moms who know when their babe is arriving. How it worked for me is: I took the birth control pill straight through (no breaks) from 12 weeks gestation till about 34 weeks gestation to mimic pregnancy. At the same time I was taking domperidone (which sounds like 'Don Perignon', which would be WAY MORE FUN) to stimulate my milk makers into getting ready. At 34 weeks gestation (after one last camping trip!), I quit taking the birth control and started pumping, using a high q...

He's here! I've written a dozen versions or partial versions of this post, including one that didn't save. <frowny face>. That doesn't count all the writing I've done in my head. I am struggling get all the feels into words and not just because I have this whole other being taking up time. I think it's just so much to say. So many moments I don't want to forget and that help inform and conclude the whole journey to Rudi's arrival. I know: lists. That's easier than a narrative! In no particular order: The name: Rudi Zen. Do you know how hard it is for two teachers to come up a name that hasn't been ruined with negative connotations? HARD. Rudi was the name of one of my great-uncles who I really liked. He was my Opa's youngest brother. I have always liked the name and the associations are all positive. I also like the idea of 'family names' that show up in an extended family. 'Zen' is the last three letters of Tara...

I haven't done a lot of writing about the process and details of things, but now I feel like it's important; not so that you all know what we did and didn't do, but so that people know how it works (for us) so that they are informed and can talk about our situation accurately. Also, I would LOVE it if someone reading this stuff became inspired to be a gestational carrier for someone else. That would be AMAZING.  But I'm getting ahead of myself. I was going to structure this as FAQs, but it was boring. So let's just do this conversationally. The official term for M is a gestational carrier; she is not related at all to the embryo/fetus/baby. The embryo that was put in her by the doctor is made up of my egg and J's sperm (why is the word 'sperm' awkward? Makes no sense); it is our biological child. Sometimes I use the word surrogate to refer to M, as this is a word that is a) shorter and b) most people understand more readily than 'gestational c...

I still can't believe that I am sitting here at my computer, typing (yet another) draft of this post. I've been writing it in my head for a long time - over 4 years. Sometimes with potential excitement, other times more as gallows humor, and there have been long dark stretches where I pushed it down and away because I never thought it would get written. But here we finally are. Jake and I are going to be parents. Oh my word, even typing that out loud feels like temping fate, like I'm inviting more grief upon ourselves. But that is the last 4 years of waiting, despairing, praying, hoping, crying and trying talking. We are both re-learning how to be excited and trust this good news.  So how did we get here, you are probably wondering. I am not pregnant, and never will be. We are parents-to-be due to the incredible gift of a dear friend, who is carrying our child for us. I'll do another post with surrogacy FAQs and answers, but for now, let me make a clumsy att...

There are so many posts/reflections/musings/rantings/cryings rattling around in my head these days it is hard to keep them straight. It seems that writing is becoming a 'save it up' activity for me; I have to think and think and think and think and read and read and read and think and think and think before I'm ready to put something down in words. The problem is that then things get forgotten or morph, but maybe that's ok. I dunno. Who cares. The nice thing about a blog is it doesn't have to be polished or perfect; it's a snapshot in time no matter what, so maybe I just go for it, right? Ok, I will. Here goes. I do not promise coherence in anyway: tone, tense, or subject. That's how my brain/heart/soul/feelings are these days, so maybe that's an accurate snapshot. I feel ... I don't know if there is a word for it. I'm all over the map. My mood and level of 'ok-ness' can switch by the minute, hour, day, second. Sometimes I am ready ...

I did tons of pre-writing for this post. I have thought about the opening line for weeks. I thought about how I'd set it up for the big reveal at the end. I thought about how fun it would be to finally write good news. I thought about all the work on myself and my state of mind that I did between my last post, when I was pretty down-in-the-dumps, and when I had the last transfer, when I was feeling pretty good. I thought about how I would talk about all that work and the difference it made (the title is an allusion to that work) It didn't work. The last transfer, which had about an 80% chance of a positive pregnancy test, didn't work. I couldn't believe it. This time was different, for me. I really thought I was pregnant, I thought we'd have twins. I thought that this was going to be the happy ending to this long long road. It's not. Being sad is really hard work. It takes a lot of energy, and takes away the things that give you energy back. It's a d...