My cell phone rang but the number was unfamiliar. Decline. As usual, it took me two days to get around to checking my voicemail. Horrible habit, yes! My stomach leapt as the […]
My cell phone rang but the number was unfamiliar. Decline. As usual, it took me two days to get around to checking my voicemail. Horrible habit, yes! My stomach leapt as the message played – it was a surrogate recruiter from the surrogacy agency in Portland. D’oh! They’re going to think I’m a flake for not returning the call sooner.
I quickly called the surrogacy agency back while nervous energy washed over me. Don’t say anything boneheaded. I kept a watchful eye for anyone walking by as I paced the back patio at my office. Amy, a surrogate coordinator, picked up and she was amazing. Informative, calm and she seemed truly interested in learning about me. She’d reviewed the intake form I’d submitted online so she already knew my vital stats. I relayed the story of my friend Lacey who was having difficulty conceiving as my main motivator for considering surrogacy.
We discussed carrying twins versus a singleton and she asked me my thoughts on taking the medications, the appointments and having to drive to Portland numerous times. Then the question of family status. Ummmmm.
“My husband Aaron and I are separated and we live apart right now but we’re on good terms. Our son splits his time between us.” New topic, please.
The conversation continued. Although we’d just met, it flowed surprisingly well. This is hilarious! We were discussing my uterus, previous pregnancies, family status, miscarriages – wow! Discussing these things even with my friends usually took months of friendship and a bottle of wine. But something about it felt totally ok. This was good. This is going to help a family.
Picking up my son that night, I decided to test the waters with Aaron. I told him of talking to Lacey at the race the other day and wasn’t it just so terrible they cannot have a baby? He was only half-listening until I mentioned “…. and then I filled out the surrogacy form and they actually called me today.”
“Are you serious? And what about Tad, what will he think?” he asked. I suddenly had his full attention. His tone was cautious and almost unbelieving.
“Tad is three years old and his perception will be mostly based in how I present it to him. He’s a fairly reasonable kid, I know he’ll be ok.” I quickly rattled off the details – how the agency uses egg donors and not my eggs, the screening process, the medical aspects, the legal protections and the surrogate compensation.Why do I feel defensive? I’d better get used to this conversation if I go through with this. Agh, what are my parents going to say?!?!
As I left, Aaron shrugged and said, “You’ll do what you want; you always do. But can we discuss it more before you fully commit to having someone else’s baby?”
YES! Ok! Great baby steps. “Of course,” I replied. We have our good points as a couple. It’s huge that he might support this.
Sometimes I miss us.
After getting my little guy to bed that night, I completed the additional online forms from the surrogacy agency. They asked if I preferred to help a gay couple, straight couple, international or domestic, or even a single parent. I checked them all. Everyone who can love and support a baby should have one. I’ll help any of them! I answered in-depth questions about my career and employer, housing arrangements, medical history and more.
It’s interesting to see your life on paper (even if it’s online!). Every decision and circumstance is laid out in tidy chronological order. And next chapter for my timeline… surrogacy.