a frozen bump in the road

Remember when I wrote last week that "things are a little TOO good to be true?" Well, let's just call that a mother's intuition.

This week we hit a big ol' frozen bump in the road.

(Note: After reading you're going to want to scroll to the bottom of this to see if this says "April Fools." However, it's April 10th, and I promise you I'm entirely too tired for this joke.)

Last Tuesday, Katy got really sick. She had some contractions and muscle tightening, and just a really nasty stomach bug. She felt really, really sick for several hours, and then slowly got better until she was back to normal by Easter morning. Then this past Tuesday, a week later, she got a call from her local Kroger. (They tracked her down by her Kroger Card.) They let her know that she purchased Blue Bell ice-cream that had been recalled because of the bacteria, listeria. The symptoms? Everything that happened to her the previous week, just about 12 hours after she ate a bowl of Blue Bell ice-cream.  (Pickles and Ice-cream are supposed to be the staple of a pregnant woman's diet, right?!)

She made a call to our obgyn, who told her to come in ASAP. Then she was referred to a perinatologist (aka: high risk pregnancy doc). By Wednesday afternoon, she was admitted to the hospital.

Listeria is a form of food-poisoning, that many of us may have contracted at different points in our lives. However, in pregnant people, it's very dangerous. The CDC website says the bacteria in pregnancy causes "miscarriages, premature delivery, infection to the newborn (meningitis, paralysis, seizures, blindness, or impairments of the brain, heart, or kidney), and 22% of cases with perinatal listeriosis result in stillborn or neonatal death."  

(Many of you have been following this Blue Bell debacle as it is spread all over every media outlet. If you haven't, google "Blue Bell" and settle in for the night, cause there's enough reading to entertain you for hours.)

Right now, we're waiting for two results. First, her cultures. This blood test will tell us if listeria is currently in her blood stream. Because she's not sick any longer, we really think/hope this will be negative. We won't find that out til mid next week. (They grow the cultures in the lab, and apparently they can't speed that up.) The second test is to test for antibodies. If the test shows a positive result for listeria antibodies, then it's likely the baby has been exposed. If it's negative, it's likely she was either able to a) expel the bacteria before her body had to form antibodies or b) she never contracted the bacteria.

We were really hoping to have the antibody blood test back today. However, we have spoken with doctors (both specialists here in Houston and in Dallas), and we feel like we have a general game plan with either outcome of the results.

If the result is positive, then it's a balancing act of debating how long to keep Baby M in the womb and risk horrific things happening, and when to get him out and risk premature problems. Viability is 23 weeks and 3 days. We will hit 23 weeks this Monday. We are praying and hoping and crossing everything in our body that if it's positive, we will be able to keep him in that warm little womb until 28 weeks. That decreases his likelihood of lifelong problems drastically. We'd work with doctors in Dallas and in Houston to find the best spot for her to deliver. (If we have time to control it, she'd most likely deliver in Houston so the little tot could be at Texas Children's.) The plan will be for her to continue on the same regimen she's on right now (an IV antibiotic treatment 3 times a day). 

If it's negative, we will still continue cautiously. Because the Perinatologist said "If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it may not be a duck but we're going to treat it like one", she is going to continue on the IV antibiotic treatment 3 times a day, for 14 days. After that, we will monitor her and the baby weekly by stress tests and ultrasounds. If the baby is ever not gaining weight and/or if the placenta starts to look like it's infected, we'd deliver immediately.

But for now, all we can do is wait. 

Our spirits are higher today than they have been the past two days, although we're very tired and feel like we've been run over by a truck. However, we believe in the religion of Bob Marley, and we know that "every little thing, is gonna be alright."

Love to all,

Kendall and Will

(If you're anything like our families, we know you probably have 100 questions and comments. We thank you for following our story! But please know if I don't get to your questions/texts/emails/messages, we SO appreciate your concern and I will respond as soon as I can!)

Movin' and Groovin' (literally!)

We are past the halfway point, people!! In 2 weeks, we will hit the "age of viability." The age in which if our little totsicle came into the world, survival may be possible. This is mind boggling to me. This pregnancy has been the biggest whirlwind while also being the most agonizingly slow wait. It's some sort of weird combination between the two.

 

Will and I are continuing to go to Dallas monthly for our visits. Last visit was our last ultrasound where they checked out the babe's organs.  We found out that he is definitely a he! We saw his heart beating a strong beat. We saw his eyes flinching like they're trying to open and blink. We saw him yawn and suck his thumb. We saw him cross and uncross his legs each time the ultrasound tech pushed on him. He's just movin' and groovin' in there. He looked like the most perfect little alien you ever have seen.

While we are bursting with excitement, this time has been more emotional for me than the previous weeks. Katy is really beginning to show, and she felt him kick for the first time. (Katy always drinks water, and she stopped for a cherry limeade and the little dude went nuts! And yall, I LOVE cherry limeades! I think we're going to get along well.) I am so unbelievably excited, while also feeling like something horrific is about to happen. It feels like life is a little TOO good right now. Perhaps I'll feel like this until I'm holding him, or perhaps the feeling will begin to fade. But as we have talks of baby showers (don't ask my mom or my sisters about the amount of tears that were just shed over THAT talk) and nursery furniture, I feel like we're jinxing it all. However, at the exact same time, I feel actually EXCITED.  It's a weird emotion to feel-- so excited and so scared.

 

Many of you may remember last Easter. I miscarried on Easter Sunday last year. Sometimes I still feel like that day was yesterday.  Sometimes I still feel like I'm grieving what could have been. However, we continue to remember the Easter message that was applicable to us last year, this year, and maybe every day in between: A new season will come. There is always hope. What looks like the end might just be the beginning.

Happy Easter,

Kendall (and Will)

Ps. Here's one video we made to announce to some of our friends that we were expecting!

We went to a place to just find out the gender, and didn't tell our families we were finding out. Katy told a friend of mine the gender, and then she then handed us the right color silly string without us knowing until we sprayed one another!   (Funny story-- Will is color-blind, and thought it was pink at first. Good news is that he was excited for both genders!)

 

 

 

P.S.S. We told Will's family it was a boy by giving them cupcakes with blue inside the cupcake. (We video taped when we told them, but the video didn't work!)  We told my family by giving them Easter baskets. Each basket had different eggs with candy in them... and only ONE egg had the gender. So they each quickly opened every egg they could to find it!)

 

 

 

 

Second Trimester!

We are nearly 16 weeks pregnant, and in the second trimester. (I'd say "time flies when you're having fun!", except that time hasn't flown. It's done more of a turtle crawl.) The little totsicle is now larger than an apple, has functioning organs, and apparently from the ultrasounds, loves to suck his/her thumb. My sister gave me little cards to read every week that describes how much the baby is growing. It is remarkable to be able to imagine it.

 

I've received lots of feedback with the "why haven't you written!?" or "is everything ok?!" And yes! Everything is great! However, we still feel this "Don't say it's great! Things could still go wrong!" feeling in the pit of our stomachs. We've had two friends who have recently gone through devastating losses. One lost her baby in the beginning of her third trimester, and one lost her little girl during delivery. Our hearts have broken with them.  We are learning to juggle how to be excited, while also knowing that the only result we care about is one that ends in a healthy baby.

 

However, this blog has become both for my loved ones, but also for other people that may be in similar fertility situations. (A link to my blog was posted on a fertility website, so now have followers in a similar boat as we are.) So even with that pit in my stomach, I'm going to try to write more with more specific details.

 

To the new folks whom I don't know: I'm sorry you're reading this. I'm so sorry that you have reached the point where the Google searches of "infertility", or " surrogacy", or "gestational carrier" or "IVF" or "hyper-stimulation" or "I'm freaking the F out" has brought you here. I wish you were at Baby's R Us shopping for a stroller instead. However, all I can say is "you're going to be ok." (I don't even know this for myself, but I know that eventually, somehow, we're all going to be ok.) Most importantly, know you're not alone. We're all in this together.

 

Emotionally, I'd say Will and I are great a solid 85% of the time. We feel excited and blessed and thankful. But also super anxious.  During our last appointment, as they were finding the heartbeat, I thought I may throw up. (Because it took them 5 seconds to find it, rather than the 1 second I prefer.) Katy even laughed and said "It's still in there- stop worrying!"

 

Katy is feeling great. She is constantly cold and sleeps 10 hours a night, but other than that, she's a rock star. Every time we see her, we high five. We got SO lucky. She's providing the perfect little nest for our tot.

 

We've now told all our close friends and family, which has helped make it seem more "real." I am constantly telling myself "Don't tell people. This is so weird. People think this is so weird." And when we do share with people, I still get shaken up about certain questions or feedback. (But at least I can acknowledge now that it probably rocks me more than it should. I was born sensitive, too late to change now!) For those of you that may be experiencing similar situations, I thought I'd be honest and open about my two biggest current sensitive buttons:

 

First: "You're so lucky!" I have the urge to cry and scream when people tell me that I'm lucky because my body won't have to heal post-pregnancy, or I'll be well-rested when the baby comes.  I know people are trying to be nice, and tell me the "pro" side of this "situation." However, it mostly ends in me feeling more envious. If only they knew how much I'd love to experience the labor contractions, the ice diapers post birth, or the tender boobs. It really feels like they're just pointing out another part of pregnancy or motherhood that I'll never understand.  So for those in my same boat, I have no words of wisdom on this topic... other than "breathe through the nose, and out the mouth".  

 

Second: Breast Feeding.

 

Yes, I know "breast is best". Yes, I know I can take hormones to induce milk production. Yes, I know breast feeding is hard. Yes, I know breast feeding helps you bond. Yes, I know lots of children flourish on formula. Yes, I know formula has come a long way and yes, I know they make organic formula.

 

However, I still have the feeling that I may burst into tears at any moment when the topic comes up.  Everyone seems to have thoughts or advice on the topic.  (I had a photographer at a wedding talk to be about her opinion, and her doula's opinion, about what I should do. I knew her for 5 minutes.)

 

What I'd like to do: I'd like to be able to nurse without any hormones, without using a pump 6 months before the baby arrives, and without a tube connecting to my nipple that feeds my baby someone's else's milk. My second choice is to use formula that is just as great as breast milk, and will give my child all the anti-bodies that breast milk provides. However, people keep telling me neither of these are possible. (Damn Nay-sayers.)

 

What we hope to do: We've thought a LOT about it, and have done a LOT of research. For us, the best thing is that Katy has agreed to pump for us. The worst thing is that she's in Dallas. She won't do it long-term, but hopefully we can utilize her milk for awhile, and somehow figure out how to ship it to us at a reasonable cost. (I've heard dry ice and disposable coolers are the way to go, and about a week's shipment is $150. I'll update more when the time comes to give better advice on logistics for those who may need it!)  Additionally, I have some sisters and friends who also have said I can use some of their extra milk, if/when they overproduce. 

(To say this is an answered prayer is a huge understatement. My dear friend Jessica has become such a champion for me in this department. She said "at first my goal was to get enough mothers to help to get you through a year, but then I did the math on how much milk that is, and how much I can produce... So now I'm thinking one month!" I convinced her that maybe we should start with one week! :) ) 

 

We also know we'll also use formula. (There won't be enough milk, even with so many helpers!) So we've decided we'll use The Honest Company and/or Baby's Only (sold at Whole Foods and online.)

 

Maybe I won't bond in the same way that nursing mothers bond. There's never any way for any of us to know, I suppose. However, I have only carried some of my babies 8 weeks, and I was bonded. The love I have for this kiddo already feels overwhelming at times. And my best friend swears "The second you soothe him/her for the first time, I promise you'll be bonded!" So for now, I feel good about this decision.

 

(For those of you who may decide to still try to nurse through induced hormones, check out La Leche League- there's probably one in your area! They can help! http://www.llli.org/faq/adopt.html)

 

However, even with my sensitive buttons, I am overwhelmed with the support we've received. At first I was anxious about Will telling some of his male friends, since I wasn't sure I was ready for their reaction. But recently he had some friends over, and there was an ultrasound on the fridge. One friend said "whose baby is this?" Will answered with a simple "Mine." The guy congratulated him. Then 2 weeks later, I saw him when I was having a glass of wine. The friend said "oh yes, you can have a little, can't you?" I stuttered and said something like "um, well, um, yes, cause um, I'm not carrying. We, um, actually have, like, a carrier." He looked at my brother-in-law to make sure I wasn't joking, and then said "wow- cool. Congrats, guys!" and continued to pour himself a glass. Seemed like a small moment, but to me, felt huge. Maybe this isn't such a weird journey, after all.

 

Love to all,

Kendall and Will

 

ps. Yes- we ARE finding out the gender at the 20 week ultrasound! Stay tuned!

Eight Week Milestone

Dear Baby,
Today we saw your heart beating, and saw the blood pumping through your small little body.  You already have eyelids, all your organs, and have joints in your wrists and knees. You are just the size of a kidney bean, but I swear you're the most loved little legume that ever existed.

Today was a big day for us. In the past 2 years, our hearts have always broken before eight weeks. But not with you. Even the doctors agree that you look beautiful. We haven't been calling you "baby", but just a little totsicle. Today we said "baby" for the first time, and although the look in our eyes is one of pure panic and worry, it is also beginning to look like one of excitement and hope.

Keep on growing, little kidney bean. Happy 8 week birthday!
Love,
The people who will one day ground you

Dear Katy,
Today I texted my family about the good news of another successful appointment and one sister asked how you were feeling. I said you felt nauseous in the afternoons, but overall just tired with the perfect amount of pregnancy crumminess. One sister said "How do you ever thank someone for going through this for you? What an angel. I am so thankful for her." Another sister said "Mostly, what a special relationship. One only a few people will ever understand."

This is exactly how I feel.  I've been taught there are four words in Greek that mean "love." However, it's obvious Socrates didn't know much about surrogacy or he would have made up a new word that describes our feelings for you. Thank you for enduring an ultrasound every week and not making us feel crazy when we ask to hear the heartbeat again and again.
Love,
The people who will put you through agonizing pain in 8 months

Dear Will,
Thank you for reminding me things could still go wrong, while also entertaining me about which baby names sound the best in a slogan. (Obviously for when our child runs for Student Council.) You will forever be my balance. Thank you for always reminding me that this will definitely be worth it, and that this isn't my fault. There is no one else on earth I would want to go through this with than you.
Love,
The girl who keeps crying and getting snot and mascara on your shoulder

Dear God,
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Love,
All the obnoxious prayer warriors who haven't ceased to keep praying for us

little patient soul

We heard a heartbeat, people!!

Katy flew in for the day to be seen by our Houston clinic, and our wonderful doctor came in on her day off to do the ultrasound. We were very anxious leading up to this, and the two week wait felt like two years. Needless to say,  I think people in Singapore could have heard my heart beating out of my chest as we walked into the room.

First our doc says "OK, I only see one sac." An immediate disappointment swallows us. Not twins. (We were really hoping for the "two for the price of one" deal.)

And then she says "Well, look at that flicker! There's the heart." We listened closely, and the sweetest sound you'll ever hear filled the room. Any disappointment of it not being twins left us as quickly as it came. The pain of the past 1.5 years didn't go away, but rather suddenly felt like it had a purpose.

My sister lives in L.A., and has recruited lots of prayers from her friends. (We like to take our prayer requests national.) She forwarded me a text from one of her friends that said "I don't want to speak too soon, but man, that little one is so meant to be. Look what had to happen for him/her to come to be?? Little soul has been waiting patiently!"

Little soul, please hang on. We'd really love to meet you. (And not just because you'd be the first one in our family to be patient.)

Katy will have ultrasounds weekly her first trimester, so it's another day to celebrate and another week to wait.  My colleague, Karen, said "We get to celebrate again!!" (I think she's beginning to figure out that this pregnancy will have more celebrated milestones than any pregnancy in history.)

Little patient soul, we're celebrating you.

To Another Day

We have great news! We got another girl pregnant! (note: I'm not sure if these jokes will ever get old.) 

We have done two blood tests and both had positive results, indicating Katy's HCG numbers are increasing and there is a positive pregnancy.

The "two week wait" (which is really only 10 days) felt eerily similar to when I was going through it. I thought maybe I wouldn't think about it as much this time, since it wasn't happening to my body. I was wrong. So after too many home pregnancy tests (some of which were negative, so a big shout out to my friends who are still my friends after I dramatically told them it didn't work and was a disaster for 3 days), we received the good news!

I wish I could say that we were immediately elated and hopeful and already planning our nursery color scheme. However, our "we've already been here multiple times before" thoughts begin to emerge, and it's been hard to let the joy consume us before our doubts creep in. That may seem hard to explain to some, and I'm not meaning to be ungrateful. We are VERY grateful. But as excited as I want to feel, I feel five times as scared and anxious. We are all counting down until our first ultrasound on Dec 17th.

We went out to dinner to celebrate her first positive blood test, and Will's toast was "To Another Day." Another Day we are thankful that we're this far.  Another Day of hoping and dreaming. And Another Day to pray that we have lots more days like this one.

a brutiful day.

Will woke up this morning, took the dogs outside, and came back upstairs with an excited "It's a beautiful day to knock someone up!" And boy, oh boy, was today beautiful.

My favorite writer, Glennon Melton, writes that the most beautiful things are the ones that are also so brutally hard. She calls these things "brutiful." So maybe that's a better description of today. It wouldn't have been so beautiful, if at the same time, it wasn't brutally difficult.

Blake and Katy got in last night from Dallas, and we got her ready to invite our little totsicles into her body with some Cyclone Anaya's, (since it's only inevitable that our kids will do anything for Tex-Mex). As we sat there laughing about the funny things her kids say, I was struck with how much I genuinely liked them. Yet, I wouldn't know them at all without this insane journey.  A "brutiful" realization, if you will.

Today at Houston IVF, the nurse came to tell Will and I that the embryos thawed successfully. (It's always a risk that they won't make it through the thawing process.) As Will put his arm around me, I knew he was the only person in the world thinking the same thought I was. "This is so hard. This is so great." Looking at him in that waiting room as we prayed together was a moment I'll never forget. It was so freaking brutiful.

As we walked into the transfer room with Katy already prepped and ready to go, I just cried and cried. Cried tears of sadness and grief that I could not be the one to do this. Cried tears of hope that maybe this could be our chance. Cried tears of gratitude that Katy and Blake are in our lives. All just big ol' brutiful tears.

And as we walked out and hugged them goodbye, it was the first time I realized that my little embryos don't go home with me. They stay with Katy, and I have to trust that she'll love them and keep them safe. It's a brutiful thing to have to give up that control, yet also have a sense of peace knowing that I trust her so completely. 

Will was right. Today was a brutally beautiful, brutiful day.

xo,
Kendall and Will

ps. We find out in 10 days if it's worked! So prayers for the next 10 days... and hopefully the next 9 months. (Or why you're at it, the next 18 years.)

 

In attempt to get me to stop crying, we took selfies in the back room. We like to call this one, "waiting to impregnate another person" face.

 

Our adorable baby-carrier and her sweet husband!