Burning Bright

It's been a long time since I've written, somewhat purposefully. It's been a whirlwind, and I knew I'd confuse everyone if I updated on every step. We've just tried to keep moving forward with the mantra "If you keep pedaling, you won't fall off."

 

In a quick summary and bullet-point fashion, here's a chronological update:

• Decided to definitely move forward with a carrier. Signed a contract with the GC agency.
• Got matched to a carrier who lives in Houston. We loved her. Got super excited and couldn't wait to move forward.
• After some testing, our doctor did not approve her because of some physical risks. We got sad and defeated and thought "maybe we shouldn't do this."
• We kept pedaling.
• We had two advocates reach out on our behalf to the CEO of our GC agency to ask them to "look out for us."(One is a new friend who used the same GC agency, and one is our fertility doctor. Both contacted the agency without us knowing. We didn't even bribe anyone!)
• CEO, not our normal caseworker, called us and said she had someone she'd like us to meet that she'd been "keeping in her back pocket." The potential carrier works in the fertility industry, and she had recently decided she could do more. She mentioned to the CEO that she may want to be a carrier. The CEO promised she'd find someone for her that would be a good match.
• Enter an anxious and excited Monroe couple.
• In a whirlwind Labor Day weekend, Will and I drove to Dallas. (Don't worry- she's not a Cowboy's fan. We obviously asked.)
• We met her, her husband, and her children.
• We fell in love.

I don't want to reveal too much about her to protect her privacy, but she's wonderful. Her name is Katy and she lives in a suburb outside of Dallas. She's in her late twenties, is married, and has children of her own. She works in the "fertility field" and for years has been helping women with their fertility struggle. Because of this, she knows well what lengths some women go through to become mothers.

In our first meeting, we asked her and her husband why they wanted to do this for another couple. (Her husband is not involved in anything directly, but obviously this is a big step for their family.) She said "I have been involved in the third party fertility industry for years, and have seen first hand the heartache that many parents have gone through to build their families. I have had all uncomplicated pregnancies and I see this as a way that I can help a family. My husband and I are done building our family but we have both discussed and feel that God has called us to continue to make a difference in the lives of a couple to help them grow theirs." (Don't you love her, too??)  She is so genuine, kind, and generous. I really can't believe she's "ours!"

We have already gone through all her pre-testing, finished a long process of contracts with attorneys, and have successfully made it over some speed bumps. We hope to do the embryo transfer sometime before the holidays!

Before our last IVF cycle, we booked a trip to Europe knowing that it was going to either be a "babymoon" (since I would have been in my second trimester by then), or it would be a chance to clear our heads after a loss. However, it turned out to be neither of those things. We definitely have grieved (and will continue to grieve) the baby's who heart we heard beat strong, but never got to hold. And we definitely wished we could have discussed disposable diapers vs. cloth diapers or a "labor plan." But instead, we met Katy right before we left, and so Europe wasn't a trip of nursery planning nor was it a grieving getaway. It was a trip of hope and gratitude, knowing that one part of our journey was over, but a new one was just beginning.

 

When our doctor called the gestational carrier agency on our behalf, we've been told she told the CEO, "I have a couple that I started seeing two years ago, and their light shined so bright. Today they've just left my office, and I'm worried their light is barely a flicker." 

 

I sure hope Katy makes us parents. But even if she doesn't, I am forever grateful that she has made our light continue to burn, and maybe even brighter than ever.

 

With Love,

Kendall and Will

"Opposite of Loneliness"

Over the past few days I've received a couple emails from friends saying "Give us an update!" (To those friends- I love you. Thank you for caring.) The truth is that I've become a bit more "reserved" in the past couple weeks. As we've told people we're continuing down the route of a gestational carrier, I found myself becoming more and more nervous. I was constantly holding my breath to see how someone would respond or what they would say. So instead of putting myself through the anxiety, I decided I would just stop talking about it entirely. 

Well, I just left church and the sermon was one of those "this-is-for-you-Kendall-so-you-better-listen" type sermons. The gist of the sermon was this: If we shut ourselves out to the world, we are missing the most wonderful thing that we can experience as human beings. Going through life with "family",  (not necessarily the family we're born with, but the community/friends/family we choose to surround ourself with), is when we are living out the essence of our existence.  We must allow ourselves to be open, and thus allow ourselves to nurture and be nurtured by others.

One of the sermon illustrations was Marina Keegan, the Yale grad who gave her commencement speech and then was killed 5 days later in a car accident. She spoke about her experience at Yale, and named the commencement address "The Opposite of Loneliness." The commencement essay was about how wonderful it was to be part of something bigger than she was. Throughout the sermon, and after reading her whole essay, I realized that if I don't allow myself to be open, even though with "open" comes "vulnerable", then I'm the one missing out.

So here we go, guys. We're headed on a new journey. I wish I could tell you what happens at the end, but I'm not quite sure myself.  But in a new effort to be open, I'll start by tackling some of the hardest questions I've been asked.

Why are you using a gestational carrier?

This is tough, because I don't have a long diagnosis to spit out. As far as the doctors know, my immune system has never/will never be hospitable for an embryo. It becomes inflamed and can't tell what are foreign cells (like virus or bacteria cells), and what isn't. Therefore, my body attacks anything it doesn't recognize (like an embryo.) Because in most cases a diagnosis like this doesn't change with time, we aren't waiting or continuing with further treatment.

You're going to use a surrogate or a gestational carrier? What's the difference?

This is a hard question to answer because traditional surrogacy doesn't really exist as frequently as it once did. But generally speaking, a surrogate is when the carrier is using her own egg. So a contract would be for a woman to carry her biological child and would undergo artificial insemination with sperm from the potential father. The surrogate is genetically linked to the child she's carrying. 

However, a gestational carrier is when the embryo is not genetically related to the carrier. She is transferred the embryo from intended parents, and then carries it with no genetic connection. She is literally "just the oven."  (Some women do use an egg donor AND a gestational carrier. But that's another story for another time.)

However, since traditional surrogacy doesn't happen much anymore in the U.S., the word "surrogacy" is often used in place of "gestational carrier." So I may say "my surrogate" at times, even though we are using a gestational carrier.

So how does this work? 

Well, we aren't 100% sure. We will be figuring a lot of it out as we go. We are using an agency to help us find a carrier and work with us throughout the process. Gestational carriers do get paid a large sum for their service, but many of them also have a heart to give back to others. (One potential gestational carrier said "The gift of motherhood was the greatest gift I've ever received. It would be an honor to give that gift to someone else." Enter waterworks.)  

All of the potential carriers have had a child of their own, and go through rigorous physical/physiological evaluations. It's a little like "blind dating". We have met a few girls, and we hope we are getting a few steps closer. (We have to like them, and they have to like us.)  If a carrier doesn't live in our area, she will do the embryo transfer in Houston, and then see her own OB/GYN in her home city. We will travel for doctors' appointments and we will be in the room during labor/delivery.

Why don't you just adopt?

Adoption is a wonderfully magnificent way to become a parent. And maybe someday in our future, Will and I will adopt. For now, we have frozen embryos that we want to persue. The wait to adopt a newborn is several years, and almost the same amount of money as the route we're currently perusing.  It is not the "easy quick fix" that you may be expecting. Unfortunately, there is no "just" in "just adopt." 

Why doesn't one of your sisters carry it for you?

My sisters are by far the biggest blessing I could imagine in this world. I would trust any of my sisters far beyond I could trust myself to carry a child. However, this isn't a "Will you run to the grocery store for me?" type of favor. I have three sisters who will all start or continue a family in the next few years. To ask or expect any of them to carry this for me would be asking them to stop perusing their dream family. (Unless I want to ask my sister in college to carry. And I don't think her sorority or Young Life would allow her to walk around knocked-up.) While I know any of my sisters would give her right arm for me, I want her to use that right arm for the life she wants, not the life I'm after.

Does Will have sex with the woman you choose? 

No. Surely you're joking, but since I've been asked the question twice in 2 weeks, I guess it should be addressed. Like I explained previously, the embryo is genetically ours. There is no sex to be had, although I appreciate your creativity. Our embryos have been frozen from our previous IVF cycles. Our carrier will be transferred an embryo in a hospital room, not a hotel room. 

Are you going to tell?

I'm not really sure what this question means, but I've been asked it often. Am I going to tell my child? Absolutely. His/her journey into this world is one I'm already proud of. He/She is very wanted, so there's no reason I would hide this. Am I going to tell a person in the elevator that my baby was born via a gestational carrier? Probably not. Am I going to tell Facebook/whole world? Well, to be honest - I'm just not sure yet. (Baby steps, for now.)

This is so scientific. I don't think God is "in" this. 

I've luckily only received this feedback a few times, and I'm still not quite sure how to say "Hmmm... well we must worship different Gods, then." My God is ever so present in this situation. He has created people who have blessed us in this journey far more than I could have imagined.  It is because of Him, not "in spite" of Him, that we are here. He has created our doctor with genius-like brains and incredible bedside manner.  He has created our embryologists, who have helped science get this far. He has blessed us with Sarah Barnett, a dear friend (who is becoming our personal genetic counselor) who has helped us walk through many genetic questions. He has walked with us through every heartbreak and turmoil thus far. Our God is very much in this.

I know all of you may have a lot more questions, and we know there are more questions than answers, for now. Luckily, we seem to learn more each day. 

Marina Keegan, the Yale graduate, wrote in her essay:  "It’s just this feeling that there are people, an abundance of people, who are in this together. Who are on your team."

Thank you, to all of you, for being in this with us. You are the best team.

Heading Down a Road Less Traveled

It's been a rough couple weeks, folks. But we're still standing! 

 

Week before last was mostly just navigating through the physical pain. Finally we had the surgery to remove the embryo, and on day 4 post-op, I was finally off all pain medications and could generally function again. 

 

We've spent a lot of time reading about next steps and deciding if going the route of a gestational carrier was for us. We've talked with our doctor, spoken with a caseworker from a surrogate/gestational carrier agency, and Googled so much about surrogacy that I'm sure my internet pop-ups will now never be anything but diapers and stroller ads.

 

One article we read was from Jimmy Fallon. He and his wife recently had a child born via a carrier. He said; "We tried lots of things before, we told people and then it didn't happen, and it's just really depressing. It's really hard on everybody."

 

We know this is true. We love all of you for crying and hurting with us, but we also recognize that this has been hard on a lot of people. Hard on our families. Hard on relationships with friends who may not completely understand why we have not quite been ourselves. Hard on our careers. Hard on my body. It's been hard. 

 

So because of how difficult this has been, and because of the direction and advice we've received from our doctors, we have decided to move forward with a gestational carrier and stop trying with my body. We know we have completely exhausted our current avenue, and while it has really sucked, we know we've done all we could.  We have tried naturally. We have tried being monitored constantly. We have tried drugs. We have tried IVF with genetically perfect embryos.  We have been tested for everything under the sun. And so six miscarriages later, we now can positively confirm that my body/ immune system just isn't quite keen on me carrying a baby. And while I am so sad, for lots of reasons, that I won't be the one to bring our baby into the world, I am SO thankful that we have another avenue. We have hope and excitement as we prepare to go down the road a little less traveled. 

 

Jimmy Fallon also said, "We tried for a long time. I know people have tried much longer, but if there's anyone out there who is trying and they're just losing hope... just hang in there. Try every avenue; try anything you can do, 'cause you'll get there. You'll end up with a family, and it's so worth it. It is the most 'worth it' thing. I'm just so happy right now. I'm freaking out."

 

So for now we're taking good ol' Jimmy's advice and we're just "hanging in there." We're concentrating on the hope that someday we will have a baby with Will's bright blue eyes and my bullheadedness. We are thankful that we can continue with totsicles we already have and with a doctor we've grown to love and trust. We are hopeful that our potential gestational carrier will become part of our family, and that in the end, we'll get the baby God meant for us to have. 

 

I was telling my family last week that I don't know for certain how all this works, but I hope that the soul of our past babies get to go back into the heavens and wait their turn to be picked again. I hope that they will make their way down to Earth someday in a body that is strong for all 40 weeks and will be greeted with the same love and excitement that we had. My sister, Katie, said "Yes, those souls are back out there. But the soul meant for you and Will is still waiting."  

 

So with that, we wait with hope.

Love to all,
Kendall and Will

Today is a hard day.

Today marks eight weeks of pregnancy. Today also marks the day that we were told the heartbeat has stopped. I'll have surgery later this week to collect embryonic tissue for testing, in hopes that it may bring any answers.

It's almost funny, actually. Last night at bible study our book was talking about Jesus' miracles in the book of John. It raised the question "why are the signs or miracles in the book of John numbered?" Jesus' last miracle in that gospel is His resurrection. It's His 8th sign. After 7 miracles comes His last big miracle that brings peace and new creation. I actually thought to myself last night, "OMG! I'm on miracle of week 8 and am beginning to finally feel peace. Good one, Apostle John!" (Obviously that's not the point of the book or the miracles, but I'm only a selfish human and liked imagining it was Jesus doing a 'Wassup Kendall, this message is for you' type thing.)

If I'm honest, Will and I are not good.  Today is a hard day. Will stood beside me with our video camera ready to film the heartbeat as we were told the news. We are surprised. We feel angry. We feel confused. We wonder if our journey to parenthood ends here, or if we have it in us to continue to surrogacy. We wonder what any of this was supposed to teach us. We wonder how many times we can repeat "This can only make us stronger!"

Mostly, we're waiting for the next miracle, and the peace and new creation that comes with it.

Love to all,
Kendall and Will

A Day for the Books.

If I could describe the past 24 hours, it would definitely be a mix of tears and curse words and tears and hugs and tears. I didn't know it was possible to cry this much.

 

On Tuesday I traveled to Dallas for work. It was a quick day trip, and I thought it would be perfect to distract myself the day before our big appointment. Without going into too many details (mostly because I probably still have PTSD from the experience), I miscarried in Dallas. I was scared and sad and just wanted to be home. I landed at the airport with Will waiting for me, and my wonderful friends Kate and Russell were there to drive my car home. I can't tell you what that night was like. We cried A LOT. The only silver lining was that while I was at the airport in a lot of pain, I bought little Tylenol packets in an airport kiosk. Turns out I was too panicked to read them, and they were Tylenol PM. So after a near overdose of that, the only blessing was that I could sleep.

 

The next morning we went to the appointment. We didn't do my morning shots, because what was the point? We wanted to make sure there weren't any complications from the miscarriage and move on. I was holding Will's hand looking away from the ultrasound screen, and the nurse says "well, there's the heartbeat. Do you want to hear it?" Yep. There was a freaking heartbeat, people.

 

I couldn't hear it because I was sobbing too much, so she calmly let us get our act together, and then showed us again. I am still in a fog from the entire appointment. The only two things I remember are a strong little heartbeat, and through my sobs my husband saying "wait- are you KIDDING me??" (A quote that has been repeated many times since, and one that I will never let him live down.)

 

She then explained that I have a hematoma (aka: a big pocket of blood) next to the placenta that is bleeding. (Hence my experience in Dallas.) This can be dangerous, so we're working on getting that under control. I asked how worried we should be, and she said "We're not going to overreact, but we don't want to under-react either." So I'm going to adjust some of my blood thinner shots and estrogen, and hope it begins to shrink. The worry is it continues to grow and causes bleeding issues, and/or separates the placenta from the uterus. We go back on Tuesday to see if it's any smaller and to discuss next steps.

 

We've googled a lot, and there are lots of different answers. I read this can happen to 20% of pregnancies on one site, and on one site I read that it happens in 1%. The nurse said bleeding happens often, but hematomas are more rare. She also said more than 50% of women go on to have normal pregnancies. (Considering we were told this pregnancy had a 5% chance of working, we'll take 50% odds any day.)  We are not sure if this has been the problem with all my previous miscarriages, or if this is a new issue. (I realize that none of this information really matters, I just wouldn't have done my job freaking out if I didn't fully google stalk the issue.)

 

The rollercoaster of events ended with a moment we'll probably never forget. We know we're not out of the woods and there is still lots of uncertainty ahead. But there is one thing I know for sure; I have never heard a sound more beautiful than this totsicle's beating heart.

Today, we will celebrate.

Not long ago during a softball game, I hit a double. I am pretty sure the entire city of Houston was chanting my name as I rounded 1st base and landed safely on 2nd. (At least my team was, as this was as shocking as Janet Jackson's Nipplegate circa Super Bowl 2004.)

The past 48 hours, every time Will and I discussed how my HCG numbers HAVE to double, I kept thinking of my basically-a-home-run-double and wanting my little embryo to hit this one out of the park. If my numbers didn't double, we'd know it was over.

My nurse just called and my numbers went from 51 to 174. They more then TRIPLED.  (In softball talk, this Totsicle ran right through 2nd and is rounding 3rd.) Clearly this one takes after his/her over-achieving father.

I know last time my numbers were great and still it didn't work out. However, I won't let last time jade me. Today, I will celebrate and be thankful.

We are off to Pace Family Vacation, the greatest time of the year. We will celebrate this week and anxiously await for the ultrasound in 2 weeks where we hope to hear a little heartbeat. Thank you to so many of you who have prayed and hoped and cried with us these past 48 hours. We made it another day!

Wahoo?

We're pregnant! WAHOO!!*

 

We went in this morning for the blood test to confirm the pregnancy. I was completely unprepared for bad news because we had a positive home pregnancy test, so I just went to work and waited on the call.

 

My nurse just called and said "You are pregnant! Congrats! However..." (Note: whenever someone says "however", make sure you take a deep breath before listening to rest of sentence.) She told me my "beta" number, the number that indicates positive or negative pregnancy, is low.  It is on the cut-off of indicating a positive pregnancy. But then she said "While low, we still remain hopeful as it still falls in the range of a positive test." (Translation: "Start panicking.")

 

We know that this beta number HAS to double every 48-72 hours to remain healthy, so we go back on Friday in hopes that it rises enough to still be considered a healthy pregnancy. If it is, we continue the waiting game until the ultrasound in two weeks. We do know that this indicates there is only one embryo. (Recap: last time my numbers looked great, and it wasn't until the ultrasound that we received the bad news.)  So for now, we just wait. You'd think I'd be getting better at this by now, but I think I'm getting significantly worse.

 

One of my best friends said, "It's fine! She's already a southern lady and is just taking her sweet time with those rising numbers! Don't rush the girl!" SO much love to all of those optimistic people out there. (One of our friends even calls herself a "5 percenter", as she's banking on the 5% chance this works.)

 

To our little embryo: If you hang on, I swear I'll be the type of parent that waits in line twice as long as other parents for "Frozen" paraphernalia. We love you so much already.

 

Love to all,

Kendall and Will

 

*I'm saying "WAHOO" because I want to be able to tell my future child, should this one hang on, that I was so excited when I heard the news. (And because if I say what I'm really thinking, my mom will probably wash my mouth out with soap.)