My Stork

As I've mentioned before, I like a plan. Which means I like to be in control. Which means I like to be the boss whenever possible.

Can you imagine a loss of control greater than asking a complete stranger to carry your tiny embryo in her uterus for you and pop out a baby in 40 weeks? Is it possible to lock this stranger in my basement so I can monitor her input and output, ensure that she is getting enough sleep and exercise, and not using prescription or recreational drugs? The answer my friends is Hell No. And luckily, even I don't feel the need to do this. Why? Because I've actually lucked out in this journey. I've hired a gestational carrier who is just as Type A as I am. Organized, on time, checks her e-mail all of the time --- OMG I think I'm in love.

Let's call my gestational carrier Vanessa. Vanessa is amazing. She has several small children of her own, a husband, and a career. On top of this, she is an experienced gestational carrier and knows the lingo, the meds, and the protocols. She is a pro at 'everything pregnancy'.

A friend of a friend of mine hired a gestational carrier who grew their microscopic embryo into a healthy baby boy. This woman called this carrier 'The Uterus' and spoke of her with obvious disdain -- apparently because this woman could do something she couldn't. The Uterus threatened her femininity and her feelings of womanhood.

Maybe I've got this all wrong, but I feel completely differently --- I've found a woman who is good at pregnancy, has a certified Grade A uterus, and she is willing to go through IVF, morning sickness, weight gain, water retention, hemorrhoids, and labor & delivery for me??? I call this woman My Hero.

Don't get me wrong, I'm disappointed that I apparently cannot carry a pregnancy to term. I've thought about being pregnant all of my life and even considered if I would have natural childbirth (no), be disappointed with a C-section (no), or breastfeed (yes).

But in the long-run, it was never about being pregnant -- it was about being a mother. And Vanessa, my stork, is going to help me achieve that aim. And so, a true Plan B-er, I march forward with what feels like Plan K at this point. Onward and upward (and hopefully outward, soon).