Closing Time.

This is it. My last blog post.

I've been wanting to do one for a while, but I wasn't sure what to say. Then I had too much to say. And lacked the energy to form a coherent final entry. So I've been avoiding it. Until today.

My Timehop app notification pops up. And the first thing I see is this.

The day that everything officially started unraveling. I've been waiting for it. Every day on Timehop, I see Facebook status updates from one year ago relating to surrogacy in one way or another. After all, I was living, eating, breathing surrogacy at the time.

So here we are, one year later. All the surrogates that I follow who got pregnant around the same time I was beginning my medication cycling have had their surro-babes now. The last one, the surrogate whose journey was most like mine (same agency, same RE, thin lining issues, transfer canceled) gave birth last week. Some of the surrogates are already working on a second journey.

Although I would have loved for my surrogacy journey to have worked out with J&S (who sadly still have no baby on the way), it's hard to imagine at this point that I would have been giving birth this summer. It's hard to imagine the things I got to do that I may have missed out on, had I still been pursuing surrogacy or been pregnant or giving birth.

Things like birthday parties for my daughters.

Or running a 5K with my husband.

Ringing in the New Year with my amazing friends (and alcohol).

Watching my baby "gradulate" from preschool.

And birthday shenanigans in St. Augustine with my best girl.

So while I knew that being a surrogate meant making sacrifices I was willing to make, it feels good looking back to know I didn't have to miss any of these moments. I did lose a couple of friends as a result of my decision to be a surrogate for a gay couple. But let's be honest, I'm not really missing out on anything there, am I? ;)

I am so thankful for this whole experience though. I learned so much about myself, my support system, and my ability to push myself further than I ever thought possible (Hello, needle-phobe giving myself dozens of intramuscular injections!). I made friends I would have never found otherwise and traveled to places I never thought I'd go. Speaking of which, my whirlwind trip with my husband to New York City for the medical screening still goes down as one of the most memorable 36 hours of my life. Manhattan, Grand Central Terminal, the top of the Empire State Building, the lights of Times Square, the harrowing taxi rides, and spring in full bloom. 

This was our first glimpse of the city as we walked out of Grand Central Terminal. It literally took my breath away. We both gasped in awe and disbelief. I will never forget that rush, which is good, because pictures do not do this city justice. Who knew that two small town kids would get bit by the big city bug? We are both itching to go back for another visit!

So remember all that pain and heartache I felt when my surrogate dream crashed down around me? Turns out it gets better. I'm okay now. And after an astounding 25,000 page views on this blog from all over the world, lengthy applications (and quick denials) with over 2 dozen surrogacy agencies after my lining issues, and countless syringes and hormone pills, my surrogacy chapter is closed.

Closing time.

You don't have to go home, but you

Can't. Stay. Here.

(P.S. I knooow whoooo I waaaant to take me home!.......sorry, couldn't help it. It's in my head now.)

A Different Kind of Surrogacy Journey!

So I must be addicted to surrogacy, because it's been weeks since I was released by my 2nd agency/2nd RE and I still think about it a lot. I did end up contacting 2 of the 3 agencies that had previously approved me, and they both declined me now based on my lining issues. Expected, but still a bummer.

Then over the last week, an opportunity to become a Surrogate Recruiter with one of these agencies, Family Inceptions International, was offered to me, and today we had our phone call and made it "official!" It's an informal position, no quota to meet or anything like that. My goal is to find QUALITY (not quantity) potential surrogates from the Southeast, mainly Georgia. The agency has intended parents waiting to be matched and begin their amazing journey, and they need awesome surrogates to do so. I'm nervous about it, because I'm not entirely sure how to find these girls to recruit them! But I'm hoping it will also get my foot in the door to become a surrogate coordinator at some point.

It seemed to have lit that spark in me again though, because this afternoon, I found myself emailing my journey story to the 3rd agency that I hadn't contacted again, as well as one that I reached out to back in August but never actually applied with. I just know they won't approve me, but sometimes I feel like I have to keep asking! Ugh!

Side note: If you are in the southeast region of the United States, especially Georgia, and you know of any women who may be interested in pursuing gestational surrogacy, please have them contact me at theirpeainmypod@gmail.com. And make sure to let me know you sent them!

Who Are You?

Wife. Mom. Gestational Surrogate.

That's how I've defined myself since February. Passionate about all three titles. But now, over the last several weeks, I have been questioning whether I get to call myself a surrogate. I feel like I'm stuck between two worlds, like a ghost.

No one except another surrogate truly understands just how much of yourself is invested in the process. And I did what most of the girls consider to be the hardest part. Multiple times. The research, the paperwork, the medical records, the questions from those who accept your journey, the harsh words and judgement from those who don't, the new friends I made, the old friends I lost, the psych testing, the social worker screenings, the travel, the medical screenings, the matching, the contracts, the relationship building, the appointments, the ultrasounds, the medications, the supplements, the injections, the side effects, the pressure, the hurry up and wait, and the disappointment when things don't go as planned.

All part of being a surrogate. So I am a surrogate.

But I never met my IF's in person. I never saw a picture of the perfect little cells. I never had an embryo transfer. I never had bed rest after the transfer. I never had the agonizing two week wait. I never bought the entire shelf of home pregnancy tests at the Dollar Store. I never waited for beta results. I never waited for beta results to double. I never got pregnant. I never saw the heartbeat on the ultrasound. I never got to see the look on my IF's faces when they watched their baby being born. I never got to pump breast milk for my surro-babe. I never said a tearful goodbye to the family I helped create.

All part of being a surrogate. So I am not a surrogate.

It doesn't look like I'll ever get to cross over to the surrogate world, but I certainly can't just go about my business in the non-surrogate world. I don't know for sure what I am. But one thing I know for certain: my life has forever been changed.

When Do I Stop?

I finally heard from my agency on Wednesday that Dr. Doyle reviewed my records from this mock cycle, and will no longer approve me to be a surrogate. The email from the agency was very short, to the point, and to be honest, pretty impersonal. I was surprised after all the friendly emails this whole time. Nothing like, "We know you tried, Becca" or "We were really pulling for you." Just quickly letting me know I wasn't approved and the agency was now releasing me as well.

I can't say I was surprised, but it's hard not to hold out hope. Which brings me to the dilemma I face now: When do I stop? You're not supposed to give up on a dream, right? It's not supposed to be easy, it's supposed to be something you fight for. But what if I am fighting, and my body just isn't cut out for IVF? That's not giving up...that's physically not being able to do it. Which is probably why it bothers me when people say "No one would blame you if you decided to stop now." The decision to stop isn't being made by me...is it? I'm not saying I can't handle the heartache, the injections, the hormones, the time, the emotions. I'm saying doctor after doctor is telling me I just can't do it, and agencies are letting me go...at some point it just seems like I'm just doing the same thing over and over expecting different results. The very definition of insanity.

But that's what makes this so hard. I'm not doing the same thing. The medication protocols have been different, and there are still countless others that I haven't tried. But I'll never be able to try them all. I'm at a point where I've started to really accept that this may not happen for me. I will continue to pursue my dream of working with potential surrogates at an agency, but actually carrying a surro-babe...I may not ever get to do that. Then this tiny voice inside my head says, "But all it takes is one doctor to have the magic cocktail for you. Just one."

I'm Still Here...

I'm sure you can imagine, since it took me two days to blog, that my appointment did not go well on Monday. I needed some time to process what happened, the end of another disappointing road, and whether I wanted to start down a new one. Or if I would even be allowed.

That being said, I do want to thank all of my family, friends, surro-sisters, and blog readers who reached out to me in the last couple of days. From the number of emails, Facebook messages, and website hits, I know many of you were anxiously looking for an update. It still amazes me how many views my blog gets (almost 16,000 since March!), and it feels great to be able to interact with all of you. It was one of my reasons for starting this blog in the first place: To put my journey out there and inspire or help others exploring the world of surrogacy. Thank you all for being the knot in the end of my rope.

Alright. Cue the symphony music, cut my mic, kick me off the stage. I know what you really want to read are the details!

So back to my appointment on Monday. My lining was 6.76mm, when the clinic was looking for something closer to an 8. While I felt bummed because I knew it wasn't good enough, I have to say that I was a little impressed with it too. My lining increased as much in 5 days as it had the ENTIRE cycle. I felt like that had to mean something. The thing is, I don't know what did it. The added Estrace pills? The acupuncture? The additional supplements? The crazy amount of orgasms to increase blood flow? (Seriously, that's all I managed to get done those last few days...it's a hard job, but I'll take one--or several--for the team!) I had a glimmer of hope that maybe they'd extend my cycle again by another week, but I was doubtful.

First, I had a long talk with my dear Jeni, where I was feeling a little done and over all the stress and pressure on myself (mostly by me). Then I talked to my hubby, where I was feeling like I owed my family my full attention again (again, this is coming from my own head). Finally, I talked to my big sister, where I turned into a sad, sappy mess (she's been my "therapist" for a couple of decades now, so she's totally used to it, lol). And after all of that, I decided to email the IVF clinic and put my offer on the table: Give me another week. I will continue the estrogen pills in addition to the injections, I will schedule two more acupuncture sessions (I know, right?!), and I will get another ultrasound done to check my lining. And I will cover all the costs.

Unfortunately, the answer was no.

While I was at my daughter's dance class, I got a call from Dr. Leondires at RMA in Connecticut. This was the first time I'd talked to him directly, so I knew it wasn't favorable news. He was amazingly sweet though. He believes that given the different medicated cycles I've tried without success, I just don't build a lining suitable for IVF. That's not to say that I can't get pregnant on my own or even that an IVF transfer wouldn't be successful. But when you're dealing with Intended Parents, tens of thousands of dollars, and their embryos, they need to have the lining measure what they believe to be optimal for implantation. The sweet part is when he said, "Listen, this is absolutely not your fault. What you are trying to do for these guys is an amazing thing. But I think it's time now to move on from surrogacy and find another way to give back to the world." He said he would be calling B&J to let them know, and he's sure I would be talking to them too. "Actually," I said, "I've never had any direct contact with them. I think we were all sort of waiting to see what happened with this mock cycle." I'm thankful for that now, although once you know names and faces and family details, it doesn't really make another match-break easy. Easier than if we spend months building a relationship, I guess. But still painful. I was a complete mess in the bathroom stall at the dance studio. I hope that B&J have read my blog, so they know I have literally done every single thing possible to try and help make this cycle a success.

My agency is still sticking with me though. They immediately requested my medical records from RMA, and they are encouraging me to send them to Dr. Doyle to see if he would still work with me. He agreed to previously, but given the results from this mock cycle, I don't know if he'd feel the same way. However, I'm going to try. Not a day goes by that I don't think about being a surrogate, so I owe it to myself to keep trying for as long as I can--or as long as the doctors will let me. I don't ever want anyone to think I gave up, because no matter how hard all of this is, it will all be worth it if I can find a doctor who has the right protocol for me. So many of my surrogate friends have great things to say about Dr. Doyle, and I was very happy with the communication I'd had with his office staff, as well as Dr. Doyle himself. Since when do you find a doctor who emails you back within an hour?!

So I'm still here. Still hanging on. Anybody know if that cute kitten hanging from the tree branch on the poster ever manages to get himself back up?!

Is There Anything a Surrogate Won't Try?!

Apparently not!

Remember when I said I had a laundry list of home remedies that's everything short of voodoo? Well, I spoke to soon!

Okay, so it wasn't ACTUALLY voodoo. It was acupuncture. But yeah, since I was the "doll," I'm going to say it's close enough.

I've been reading about acupuncture for infertility, and specifically for thin lining, for several weeks now. But I didn't try it for a few reasons.

1. It's expensive. $90 for the first visit, $70 for subsequent ones.
2. They use needles.
3. I hate needles.
4. Needles.

Once I got the news on Wednesday that this next ultrasound would be the "end of the road" if my lining isn't thick enough, I decided I needed to try it. At this point, I've got nothing to lose and everything to gain. I called a few local places who were all booked up and couldn't get me in before my ultrasound tomorrow. And I still kept thinking about the cost...ouch. Then I found a few places that offer "community acupuncture" which means you aren't in a private room, and so the session only costs $30. One of them was having their community session that night, Thursday, so I made my appointment. I was happy to try it, hopeful that one session would help, and a bit disappointed that I wouldn't be able to do more than one session before the ultrasound.

I'm not feeling so disappointed anymore! One session will have to be enough!

First, he put 9 needles in my lower abdomen. These felt okay, and didn't hurt or bother me. I actually started to forget they were there. It was a little weird to see him stick a needle in my stomach and then feel a tingle in my toes. Crazy!

Next, he put two needles in each ankle, on the inside. Those sucked. Big time. It felt like I was hitting a funny bone in my ankle over and over again, which made it impossible to relax while I laid there for an hour. I kept telling myself "If it works, it's worth it. Just get through this one time."

Which became a little harder to keep in mind when he put a needle in the BOTTOM OF EACH FOOT. Right in the arch. Yikes.

So there I am, a human "pokey-pine" (my daughter's quote--I love it!), and the acupuncturist says, "Okay sweetie, you're all set. Just relax for about an hour, find your beach, and I'll be back to check on you."

Wha???? Find my beach?!

Let me tell you about my beach. My beach is the white sand and turquoise waters of Key West, with my husband (and/or Justin Timberlake) next to me handing me pina coladas in a half-coconut with a little paper umbrella. I cannot find my beach in a dark room filled with incense, while needles stick out of my skin and the woman next to me is snoring.

So I did not find my beach. I tried to think about why I was there, again conquering my fear of needles. I was there for fluffy lining. I was there for the smiling faces in the IP profile. I was there for the little embyro who needs a snuggly place to nestle in for 40 weeks.

The hour went by fairly quickly, but since Snoring Lady was there first, the acupuncturist had to take her needles out first. Imagine my surprise when he turns the table lamp on, and Snoring Lady has needles STICKING OUT OF HER NOSE AND FOREHEAD. I tried not to stare, but it was difficult. Especially when she stood up and I got a nice shot of Snoring Lady with no pants on. Somehow we are working on my uterus and I managed to stay covered?! No judgement, Snoring Lady. If Justin Timberlake was on my beach, I would not be wearing pants either.

Finally, it was my turn. And once again, the ankle needles bothered me the most. It's a hard sensation to describe, but I didn't like it. My ankles felt sore, like I'd hit a nerve. Especially the right one. It's now been three days and I can still feel it. Like a sprain. I don't know if that's supposed to happen or not, but if it helps any with my lining, it will all be worth it.

Tomorrow morning is my ultrasound. Send all your fluffy vibes my way, and also send out some positive vibes for Snoring Lady, for whatever ailment required needles in her nose!

Sigh....

Well, that appointment didn't go well.

I knew the results right away, but I was waiting to let you all know until after I heard from the IF's clinic.

Every party has a pooper, and that's me today. Thank goodness there was plenty of Halloween candy to munch on, plus my sister-in-law dragged me to McDonald's, then force fed me an ice cream sundae with hot fudge. And caramel. And extra. Of both.

So I'm just going to lay it all out here, because I don't really know what to think at this point. I'm feeling so many things--discouraged, frustrated, sad, apologetic--that I'm not up for blogging with witty comments or funny jokes. No fluff today. (Ha! You got one out of me.)

My lining only measured a 5.35mm. The tech said only a 5, but I saw the measurement on the screen, and I'm keeping the extra 0.35mm. I worked VERY HARD for that. Even if it's not nearly enough. All hope was not completely lost though, as I did have what appeared to be the triple stripe pattern. Which means that although it wasn't a thick lining, it was a healthy one. Some RE's feel the triple stripe is more important than the actual thickness, but let's face it. A  5  5.35 is still not enough.

The nurse from the clinic in Connecticut called me a couple of hours ago. She said they spoke to the guys, and they were willing to cover the cost of an additional estrogen medication as well as one more ultrasound. This makes me love them even more, which makes this even harder if it doesn't work. So I'm supposed to continue with the Delestrogen injections, and also start Smurfing one Estrace pill every evening. I will have one more lining check on Monday, and the nurse said, "If you're not closer to like an 8, that will be the end of the road unfortunately."

They were going to have the prescription shipped to me from the fertility pharmacy in New England, so that the IF's could pay for it. But that seemed like a ridiculous expense for them to pay for overnight shipping on a prescription that's on the $4 generic list at Target. Plus, I wouldn't get it until Friday. So I just asked the nurse to call it in to my local CVS, so I can go pick it up and start it tonight. I don't mind paying for it...it's a small price and if I can save them any little out of pocket costs with everything they're doing for me, I'd like to try.

So that's where I am. Feeling hopeful and crushed at the same time. I've done everything I possibly can and then some, but there seems to be very little comfort in that.