I’m not sad to be going home; to our kiddos and our house, to Christmas in Minnesota (where there’s snow), to familiar. There’s a certain midwestern set of sensibilities that exists sparingly on the west coast and deep, Californian vanities that serve as subtle, yet constant reminders of the fact that I am a stranger here. I’m 100% okay with that.

So after 4 days in SanFran and Sausalito, our transfer trip is concluding. I ask the wife way too often how she’s feeling, if she’s feeling anything. Her responses have eroded from “I’m fine,” to things like “Super transfery,” or “Transferrific!” My life is a sitcom.

It will be nice to have one more day to rest and do family things before a short work week followed by another holiday weekend. I’m excited to be with my littles and do Christmas with them; California produced some fun novelties to put under our tree.

What’s next? Tuesday is when a pregnancy test will likely be telling. Anything before then is too unreliable to trust. After Tuesday, a couple of blood tests will defend the claims made by the pee-stick of life. Fun times ahead.

Anyway, I’ll leave you with this:

“‘And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this [shall be] a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.’

That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.”

Merry Christmas!


French fries!!

The appointment is over and our transfer was a success! Now we wait. A pregnancy test in five-ish days should give us more news and a blood test on the 30th will be definitive. And because French fries are supposed to be some kind of surro-magic for transfers, lunch will likely involve a burger. Or Greek food. Don’t ask me why, but Greek places typically have the best French fries.

World, meet Little Fellow.


cleared for takeoff

Tomorrow is, hopefully, the beginning of our grand adventure, what we’ve striven for these many months, or something like that.

Embryos are incredible little balls of possibility. They are incredibly fragile yet, somehow, also surprisingly durable, like when one was frozen for 24 years and still blossomed into a sweet squishy little one. Unreal. Does that mean that baby is 24 years old at birth? Who knows?

In just under a day and a half, we will pick up our little seed and do everything in our power to see that Surro Seed becomes Surro Baby. What does that look like? Light walking, frequent rest, a healthy diet, and no skydiving. A transferred embryo is more delicate than a native embryo, so making sure the little fellow is good and snug is important.

To be clear, we are completely aware that our transfer’s success is not very much at all in our control; maybe 5 percent? Whatever moderated activity and a mostly healthy diet can contribute anyway; “mostly” because of a wives tale regarding McDonald’s French fries being all kinds of magical for pulling off a successful transfer. Normally, I’m not superstitious, but hey, if French fries are involved, whatever for the cause I guess. I know; what a martyr. Sympathy McDonald’s for the win!

My wife, you guys. She is such a beautiful person. I have a lot of reasons that I think she’s the best person ever, but her selflessness on this budding adventure is in the top 5 for sure. Not only is she willing to eat those post-transfer fries, but (seriously, now) she has stared down the business end of dozens of needles and checkups and tests, all things she pretty much hates, because her desire to give someone who otherwise couldn’t experience the joys of being a mama exactly that far outweighs the totally optional discomfort required to do so. It’s an honor to do life with this woman on the daily. Ok, mush rant over. For now, anyway.

On tomorrow: we don’t believe in coincidence. Without turning this into a total worldview discussion, I’ll say that we have peace about our transfer. We’ve done everything possible to make sure that our transfer is as smooth as can be and we know that the rest is out of our hands. That’s not to suggest that we both don’t fervently hope this works. Because we do. Because this transfer is a unique opportunity. I have no idea of the probability of success here, but, because of some of our case specifics, tomorrow matters. A lot.

Today is a travel day; 4 hours and 10 minutes from MSP to SFO. SanFran is cooler than the last time we visited, but we are in for a mid-50’s week, tropical by comparison to Minnesota’s -2 F forecast for Christmas. So that’s fun.

If you’ve been following along you know that we love our kiddos immensely, but some “just us” time is never a bad thing. And it’s super helpful to have clear heads without the distractions of our littles, as entertaining as they are, so big shout-out to our village at home; it takes all of you to make what we are doing possible. Thank you, thank you, and thank you!

And an obligatory airport selfie because my wife told me I had to. Not too shabby for 5:30am!


on pins and needles

But mostly needles. It really is a wonder how much science goes into making a body think it’s pregnant. The goal is to hush the body’s egg production and make sure things are nice and quiet before we move in a guest baby. And to do that, we use needles. This is a brag on my wife moment; well, sort of.

The woman I married has changed some since we met. Her compulsive shoe buying has tapered off. Her hair color has been black, brown, blonde, platinum, two-toned, kindof hombre-esque , red, white, and various shades of purple. She hated football 8 years ago. Now? She flipped out when the Seahawks didn’t run it with Marshawn Lynch from the 1. Not to worry, though: we were happy enough to see Seahawks lose because we’re Packer fans (Go Pack Go!). One thing that has been totally constant? Her debilitating fear of needles and blood. A strange aside: she watches every medical drama she can get her gore-allergic paws on. Ha! She’s so great.

But this was a real fear: we weren’t super sure how all of this would go once we reached the getting-poked-with-a-needle-daily phase. The first shot was a huge mental battle. After that, it was such a breeze that I have suspicions she’ll become an ER nurse and ace her exams solely because of how many times she’s heard “20 cc’s STAT!” on Netflix.

But seriously, proud husby over here.

Surro-dad real talk: those aren’t the only pins and needles we’re on over here. We have another milestone appointment coming up. It’s another “you have to be at this point” kind of appointment or our process gets moved back. We don’t have any reason to think it won’t go just fine. It’s just another potential bump in the road when all we really want is a bump in the belly. And then, y’know, a baby because that’s the point (completely accidental needle reference).

If all goes well, we’ll get on a plane for San Fran in the next couple weeks and hopefully we’ll have a positive pregnancy test, on Christmas Day, in fact. Now that would be a present.

Christmas goals? Knowing that this squishy picture will be recreated a hemisphere away.