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Thursday, April 17, 2008
This is all so hard!
As much as it bothered me when Mr. W and I weren't on the same page, it's killing me now that we are. Even leading up to the birth of the lowercase, I was always the one responsible for doing all of the research involved. Or rather, he wasn't going to do any research, so if I wanted information, I had to be the one to go after it. What can I say, that arrangement generally works for us. I'm the type who needs to be doing something, so looking for useful information (anecdotal or scientific) is right up my alley. And since Mr. W is the type who won't make a decision without being briefed on all the pertinent information (such a manager, that one!), we make a good team. But now...well...now it's actually kind of painful for me. I didn't think it would be like this. Granted it's nothing compared to the pain of 2004 and early 2005. Still, I didn't expect this since we have the lowercase. I guess what makes it worse is that I do feel like by wanting another child, I'm saying that the lowercase isn't enough. That he is in some way lacking. That couldn't be further from the truth of how I feel about him, yet somehow it does feel ungrateful to want more. I dunno. Maybe the reason I'm so down today is that I took an Acadia out for a test drive and Mr. W and I were looking at it in terms of fitting in more car seats and strollers should we need them some time in the next five years. Maybe it's because a fellow preemie mom said to me that she would gladly carry for us if her first baby hadn't come early for reasons nobody can quite figure out. Maybe it's because later in the afternoon, my epileptic friend said that if her in utero exposure to her medication wasn't the likely culprit of her son's autism that she would carry for us. And maybe it's because all of it today just makes me so damned mad at my body. My body that just can't do this one thing that is all I've ever really wanted -- to be a mom with a large family. A house overflowing with children and love.
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Wednesday, April 16, 2008
What is wrong with me???
Lately I've caught myself doing some really stupid things. Things like looking at twin strollers. And then thinking things like "If we find a GS and if she carries twins, and if that happens before the lowercase is capable of walking everywhere..." Next thing I know? I'm looking at freaking huge-ass triple strollers and double strollers with platforms for the older child to stand on. And, uh, I'm planning to sell my Beetle, the car I've loved for the last 6.5 years, in order to buy an Acadia (come on...7 passengers capability? Not a van? I'm all over that!). All that and I still haven't figured out how this would all work -- especially the financial aspect of it. I don't know exactly how much of our side of the treatment our health insurance will cover. I know that it's covered, but is it 80%? Or is it entirely covered minus co-pays? Without first having an appointment with an RE, am I able to get that dollar figure? Because my cost with insurance shouldn't be in the same range as what they list as the cost of the procedure. Also, why do they not list the portions of the IVF procedure a la carte when they list their charges? I'd like to know what the transfer itself would cost since that portion wouldn't be covered by insurance. I'm just saying. So...yeah...it would be nice to know some of that stuff so that I could give any friends who say they could be interested the full picture. (Including what compensation we could afford to give should we go forward with it) I just hate how hard this all is. And how much thought and effort I have to be able to give it!
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Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Static
It's hard to believe that it's already been a week and a half since we decided we would pursue a surrogacy. A week and a half in which nothing has happened. I've told a few people what we are considering doing, but that's as far as it's gone. This may be even harder on me than I had expected. I can't stand knowing that we've made a decision and yet being able to do nothing to set the wheels in motion yet. I'm just ready to get moving with this all already!
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Wednesday, April 02, 2008
More
I don't know if it's common or not, but Mr. W and I tend to have more serious conversations when we're away from home. I don't know if it's the neutral territory or if it's simply that we are removed from the distractions of our everyday life that allows this, only that I am grateful for those conversations. I can actually understand better where he's coming from (and let's face it -- I just love talking!). Over the last two days, I think I might actually understand his hesitation on having more children and the limitations he's placed on our search for a surrogate. Mr. W is not an overly religious man. He grew up in a Jewish family -- a family who will readily tell you that they don't view their Judaism as a religion so much as an ethnicity. After Mr. W's bar mitzvah, they entirely stopped going to temple. They didn't celebrate holidays in their own home and had stopped going to holidays at the homes of other family members (except for Christmas which they celebrated with his maternal grandmother...no prayers, no discussion of the religious nature of that holiday, simply a family meal and presents opened near a tree). He is a Christian now and has been for just over 10 years. He does believe, but because of his upbringing has a hard time getting the personal relationship with God thing. His faith basically is such that he believes what the Bible says, accepts that Christ died for him, and as a result he goes to church with me on Sundays. The end. It's no more personal than that for him. Which is why I was kind of taken aback by what he told me regarding the future of our family. When I lost each of the first three babies, he prayed every day that this time would be the time it all worked out ok. And then came the fourth pregnancy and things seemed to be going in the right direction. When the lowercase was born so early, his prayer became that our son would make it. He bargained with God. He asked for just this one miracle, just this one little boy to be alright. And he was. So now Mr. W feels that maybe we've gotten all that God is willing for us to have. He's afraid to try to push further and go beyond what God wants. Of course, I can understand where he's coming from. However, I have a different relationship with God. A relationship where I understand that He knows my heart...He knows my human nature will lead me to say "just this once...just this..." and, like any parent, He knows that I can't truly never ask for anything again (just as I know that my own son will ask me for another cookie after he finishes the "I just want one moooooore!" cookie I already gave him). I think that God knows what we want and makes decisions based on what is best for us, not what we say when we're begging. I suppose that is why Mr. W has said that he wants us to find a surrogate that we know who will volunteer. This way it isn't us going above and beyond to add to our family. He feels like if someone volunteers, then it's God saying to him "It's ok...Look, I've made it easy for you." I don't know. I think he's wrong about tempting God by going back on what we said while begging for a child and later the life of our tiny son. But I suppose that I can't argue against the thought that if it is truly meant to be, that God will find a way to make it happen for us. (Which isn't to say that I'm not a firm believer in God helping those who are willing to help themselves. Consider this me helping myself: Do we know you? Do you want to help us out? Any takers?)
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Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Words can't express
Tonight I'm sitting in a hotel room in Hartford. My son and husband are using the other laptop to video conference with my parents. The lowercase, having decided a few moments ago that he is, in fact, a cat and not a boy, is doing nothing but crawling around the bed meowing. And I can't help but feel grateful. My friend took her son for his appointment with the developmental pediatrician. Since we aren't home, I only got the briefest of details. Her son was officially diagnosed as autistic. Her husband, who had been sure that the only thing wrong with their son was a slight speech delay (at 29 months, he has yet to speak a single clear, correctly pronounced word -- his closest is that when pointing at a car he will say "kuh"), is having a really hard time with the diagnosis. And they finally had a doctor tell them that her epilepsy medication is almost definitely the culprit. She cited recent research linking the drug to increased rates of autism when compared to the general population. They won't definitely say it since both my friend and her husband each have a cousin with an autistic child and the research on the connection between her medications and autism is still based on a sample size that isn't large enough to draw that conclusion. My heart is breaking for them. They had begun trying to have another child, but she hasn't yet gotten pregnant. Now that they know that her medication has likely caused their son's autism, they've decided that maybe they shouldn't do that yet, if at all. And my friend is devastated at the thought that she caused this.
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