Are there words to talk through today? I guess we’ll see.
But that’s the thing — today isn’t just about today. It’s about needles and nerves and anticipation and patience and breathtaking sorrow and the unknown and change and a few miracles all rolled into one word.
If all goes to plan, the little girl my wife carries and my sweet daughters affectionately call “Baby Seed” will be born sometime in the next several hours, on this, the anniversary of our first failed transfer. And it’s surreal to be here: at this end of the medications and planning and flights and waiting. But it’s so much more than that.
Some months ago, I was asked about why we would have a baby for somebody else; why we would “run a marathon, cross the finish line, and have no trophy; nothing to show for the effort?” In the words of my Scandinavian ancestors: Uff da. I suppose I could have felt any number of ways or chosen to react in any similar number of ways, but more than irritated or angry, I was just sad. How anyone can evaluate this incredible journey of contributing our piece to making a family as an empty thing, a trophy-less race, is beyond me for a few reasons.
First and foremost among them, perhaps, is that I’ve never won a trophy or medal or ribbon for any kind of race in my life. I grew up in the beginning of the participation trophy era, so I received plenty of “feelings” awards, but knew them for what they were. And it never bothered me. So the whole race metaphor was a poor choice to win over the persuasion of a former band nerd who repeatedly rejected his high school’s football coach’s begging to join the team because there were drums to play.
But the real reason the whole “you’re not a winner for having a baby and giving it away to someone else” thing didn’t carry any weight is because it’s just not true. Just so nobody is confused, I’ll say it plainly: we didn’t choose to pursue surrogacy to win some popularity contest or please anyone or participate in some agenda. We did it for lots of reasons and I’ve talked through those at length. Surrogacy makes families possible that otherwise wouldn’t be. Adoption does, too! And one doesn’t negate the need for the other, in my opinion. They are each their own brand of miracle.
There’s a baby that is on pace to be born today. And I couldn’t be happier! This little girl is going to be *so* loved. She already is, for that matter. A new chapter in this life’s story begins today and getting a ringside seat (to use my own sports metaphor) is pretty incredible.
It’s Christmas. We put up a tree and a stocking for the dog, but that’s about it. We haven’t had a lot of spare energy this late in trimester three. There are presents to wrap once we get this whole baby thing squared away, so you don’t have to worry about our kids. They are in for some serious Christmas fun. They love Christmas. And it’s fun to watch and listen to them process it. They are enamored of the wonder of this baby that was visited by kings and peasants who came for a reason: to run a race with no trophy at the finish line.
Merry Christmas, friends!
And that one word everything is rolled into?