Typical chromosomes.

Rocco and I talked about babies a million years ago, before we got on the IF train ride through the jungle.  We agreed that we would welcome a baby if s/he had Down Syndrome. Of course we would.

Then it became a very real chance of becoming a part of our lives.

What had we signed up for.

Hours, days, google searches, board binging, blog binging.  I walked with the families who have a member with Down Syndrome.

I am ashamed to admit I was afraid of what I would find.  How it would make me feel.

My last post did not represent coming to terms with Down Syndrome.  I made it look easy.  Cut and dry.  Simple.  It wasn't that easy.  There were a lot of big scary rocks I had to look under.  Heart surgeries.  OPEN heart surgeries.  It was terrifying.

These families put it all in perspective.  Law love the internet.  I was able to read about diagnoses, both before and at birth.  Parents took it in stride, parents reeled, parents processed.  It was magnificent to see family after family arrive at the same place.  One of my favorite bloggers tags her posts on the bulletin board with facts about all three of her kids - left handed, curly haired, and T21.  Fact, fact, fact.

Not "normal" chromosomes.  Typical.

No Trisomy 18.

No Down Syndrome.

My family and the 21st chromosome

We chose not to move forward with the cvs yesterday. We submitted a blood sample to Maternit21. Results back in about 10 days.

I am 14 wks, but the baby measured at 15 wks yesterday. The geneticist felt this was a good reason to conclude our risk for Trisomy 18 was, in fact, probably less than 1/27.

I love geneticists. Love them. So wise and kind and sensitive. She followed our lead that the diagnosis of Down Syndrome was not worth jeopardizing our pregnancy. It will not be designated as bad news should s/he have an extra chromosome in 21.  It will just be part of who the child is. Just like Jay is donor egg, he's still my guy.  This baby still wants love more than anything else.

The size of the baby does not impact our potential to have a baby with Ds (Down Syndrome, for those in the know).  The u/s produced a nasal bone that was not present previously.  Still just another fact. Not a clear indicator of the number of chromosomes hanging out in location 21.

I am downright JOYOUS to write off Trisomy 18. Yeah, I know it's not totally eradicated but I'm saying it is.

I found another tribe of Mommas. The Ds Mommas. You should see the way that they care for each other and any family interested in learning their ways.  I know I'll never be alone or want for support if I needed it. Mommas are amazing. Amazing.

The so-called Momma Wars don't exist in my world. I got you guys. I got them. You all have me. I am blessed beyond measure, yay though I kinda cringe at that word.  Lucky. Grateful. So very grateful.

Thanks for your support. Tell me what I can do for you.

Considering invasive testing

We got the call that we are at increased chances of our baby having Down Syndrome or Trisomy 18.

Our original ratios for my age were 1/62, changed to 1/6 for Down Syndrome.  It was 1/115, changed to 1/27 for Trisomy 18.

Down Sydrome.  Not Down's Syndrome.  We can do this.

Trisomy 18.  Failure to thrive.  I don't know if I can go here.

Last time I did this, I lost 2 jobs.  Long term disability.  Lost the fucking plot.  I don't know how I could carry but I don't know how I could not carry either.

Considering CVS.

Roger that.

Any chance you saw Gravity?  (Not a spoiler.)

I like how she learned to say "Roger that" when she fully expected a response, but didn't get one.  She carried on like she had heard the words she wanted to hear.

I belted this out in the car a couple weeks ago when I was riding high on the confidence of vomit in my toilet.  I heard the acoustic version on the way to the appointment this morning.

We are all good.  Heartbeat found.

They say I must be one of the wonders
Of God's own creation
And as far as they can see they can offer
No explanation

With love, with patience and with faith

Her Momma will make her way

Tomorrow, we ride.

Out of context?  Maybe.

Self indulgent post.

I have been curbing my thoughts on tomorrow's doctor appointment for weeks.  Fucking WEEKS.  Today has been a little harder.

Dumping a little free form, free skate here to try to shake the Boogey Man off my tail.

I think my belly is too small.  Shouldn't it be bigger by now.  Harder.

Maybe I am not peeing with quite the urgency I once enjoyed throughout the night.

Why don't I throw up any longer.

My personal list of how to tell you are no longer pregnant.  Damn.  Now that will bring likeminded suffering mommas to this site and all they will find is my ramble.  Damn you search engine.  You need a "quality filter".

Even when I am pregnant like a Fertile (carrying a primitive, sex-made baby), I cannot relax and enjoy the ride like a Fertile.

Queen of theme songs has a new one

Odds are we gonna be alright.

Whims

I bought and ate from my own personal pumpkin pie today.  Twice.

I ran the Chinese gender chart.

According to ancient traditions and the zits on my chin, it's a girl.

Life without my Crazy Meds

Dammit, I love me some crazy meds.

And just like that, we shut them all down.  Three of them.  High doses.  Well, according to the OB's panic in her face they were freakishly high, but I will not allow myself to speak for her.

Rar.  I am a real fucking joy to live with right now.  Heaven help the poor bastard that unwisely chooses to splash in my bathtub.

Anxiety?  Me?  25 days until next u/s.  Might was well be next year.

Whatever took Mannie, the one-chance-in-several-million, rears it's head again.  It spooks me with my increased chances of several-chances-in-several-million.  These are my rough numbers, not the official ones from the genetic counselors.  Maternal Fetal Medicine is at my disposal should I want to pick those scabs.  Benefits of BLM.  Huh.

And they took my zit medicine too.  It really just might be a tumor today.

My other update

Just unloading here.  Sigh.  It looks like my guy Huck has cancer.

He's in surgery today, biopsy to follow.

Thyroid cancer.  Quite rare in dogs, accounting for less than 2% of tumors.  Very aggressive.

Jay is learning his body parts.  I hear his voice say, "Eye.  Eye."  I look down and Jay's fat little finger is jammed under Huck's eyelid, up to the end of Jay's finger.  Good boy, Huck.  Just stood there serving as an eye model for his brother.

Children before the children.  Only you guys get what these animals mean to us.  Hard to get understanding on this side of the keyboard.

Just a dog.  Yeah, sort of.

Carry on, Warrior.

Looks like we are just past 8 1/2 weeks.

Normal heart rate, which I heard over the speakers this morning.  I saw the little figure before I saw the heartbeat and panicked, but she found it quickly.

I have taken 3 pregnancy tests since we last spoke.

ps - Title homage to Glennon Melton, my favorite.  Please enjoy her with me here.

Am I one of Them now?

Longest couple days I ever had in a long time.

We are 6 and 1/2 weeks pregnant, measuring accurately to a made-up last menstrual date, with a normal heart rate.

I am beyond grateful.

Really don't understand how we ended up here.  Rocco has half dead, crap sperm that swims sideways, while I enjoy diminished ovarian reserve.  Even on $5000 worth of stims, I could not generate more than one egg.

It doesn't seem real to me yet.

Your ever loving urban legend,
Roccie

Not much information yet

I am an Infertile.  This doesn't happen.  Plus I am 42, hell, I am almost 43.

I have no idea what is going on.  All the forms for my new OB (I am following Dr. Glenda the Good Witch to her new practice) keep asking for my last period date.  Who knows? Who cares?  Who tracks that sort of thing when it just doesn't matter?

There is a near 50% chance of miscarriage at the age of 42.  Funny, that is the exact number the article used to delineate when the Shit Show really kicks in.

I am going in tomorrow for an ultrasound.  Hopefully they will be able to find a fetal pole.  I haven't even allowed myself to hope for a heart beat.  Plus I think it is too early - isn't that at 8 wks?  Cannot remember.

I spent MONTHS accepting the fact we were to be a two child family.  It was the hardest thing about donating my embryos, knowing I was shutting the door on any chance of ever having another child.

My embryo recipient family is also pregnant.  24 weeks.  Sorry I forgot to announce that - I was filled with happiness, no regret or sadness.  Whew.  It is her family.

Think of me tomorrow, will you?

What.

Busybusybusy

He is into EVERYTHING.

I was so desperate for some peace, I let Jay play with the fire extinguisher.

Worst momma ever.

Hello May

Whew.  April is over, but the daffodils linger on.

They don't seem as mean anymore. 

A friend shared William Wordsworth's poem I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud, or commonly known as Daffodils, with me.

You can never translate what poetry means to you, unless you are in college and being forced to do it.  But in short, it made me place the flowers on par with the stars.

Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

William Wordsworth

Fucking daffodils

Hello April.  Fuck you and your fucking daffodils.

Mannie's anniversary passed with a slow and painful drag.  One single person remembered the day she died.  Several helped me to quietly celebrate the day I met her.

Rocco forgot.  My family forgot.  I guess people move on and assume I am done mourning her.

I got some news on the anniversary.  Our recipient family is pregnant. Right now it just hurts a little bit more.  But I think as I grow into this it will add a wonderful element of hope to a grim day.

Housekeeping

Sometimes you just get so behind in your reader, you cut your losses and commenting is a luxury.  Especially for you nutters that have that law awful word verification code still turned on.  Have mercy, for a girl reading on a phone, it is an instant comment killer.

I have enjoyed the enthusiasm a few of you have had with me turning on comment moderation.  I got tired of too many compliments in poor English from people trying to get me to view their bar scanner websites.  Your comments are sent to me in email.  Sometimes I try not to approve them the instant you post them in an effort to look like I dont THRIVE on comments.  Usually though, you get a near real time post.

Rocco got a promotion.  Formerly imminent financial demise is now a thing of the past.  I am so happy I could barf.  Still think we will downsize, but on our own time.  We are robbing Peter to pay Paul to close out my 401k Lets Make A Donor Egg Baby Loan, but it should work.  Stress levels are down.

Leah has been a beast lately and I think my parenting skills are poor.  Sucks.  Stress levels back up.

Recipient family has transfer in less than a week.  It will feel like my own personal TWW.

Much love from your quiet friend,
Roccie

Riding the waves

Here I am.

The days were up and down.  It was a gradual recovery.  I still have tender moments, but they are fewer and a little less intense as time passes.

My recipient family is over the moon.  We jumped through some serious hoops to get things done as quickly as possible for her.  Maybe that inflamed the panic a little bit.  All I know is that the embryos are with their new family.

My sister had a great one.  She told me that when this birth eventually comes, I cannot see the child as "The One That Could Have Been Mine".  We all know the perfect uterus can fail to implant the most perfect embryo.  (Remember my fresh cycle?)  There is no guarantee that same embryo would have implanted in me just because it implanted in her. Good one, huh?

Thanks for your support.  I have never felt such a raw need to reach out and ask for help. I was a bit of a mess.  Special thanks to those who came out of the quiet and Anonymous.  Special thanks to my old friends who have stuck around when I need you most.  All sappy for y'all.

I miss those babies.

It's done and I'm crying

I sure could use your thoughts and prayers right now.

Back to stable

Doesn't mean I am not going to cry about it.

I had to come to an understanding that wanting those babies didn't necessarily mean birthing those babies.  It still hurts and I still wish they could all be mine but they cannot.

If I was 28 and I was not in a financial abyss, would I have 8 more?  No.  Would I have one more?  Maybe.  If my husband was 38 not 51 would I do it?  Maybe one more, but still not 8.

The fact is that I have everything I need, even if I don't have everything I want.

Funny, I have a girlfriend in the neighborhood who got pregnant with her third on accident. Many times Rocco and I have shared a laugh about what they have in store for them. Course, this was all only funny before I was finalizing my donation contract.

I don't want to be her.  I don't want to be pregnant again.  Mostly.  That ride is a long and scary freak show for BLM.  I hate going back there in some ways.

I want to close the doors on my past and focus on the present.  I don't know that I have the energy reserves to get back on the horse.  I know I don't.  

I can never sit and say that I tied this all up.  I will always feel wistful about having one more.

Last night I crawled into bed to find my Leah there in the center.  Her spot.  I watched her sleeping and tears streamed down my face.  (Thank God she didnt wake up.)  It was such a powerful moment.  I could hear my decision tightening up in my heart.

I tried praying about it.  Just doesn't really work for me.  Kind of like I am a little kid in therapy.  Straight questions don't work for kids.  You ask them to draw or throw the ball around, and they talk.  I stop sitting and waiting for The Big Answer in prayer and it shows up on my bed at 12:30 in the morning.

I realize I love CHILDREN.  I have children.  More doesn't make it better.  More just makes it different and I am happy where I am now.

I do thank God for the recipient family we have found.  She changed my perspective on what "open" really means.  I think I have failed to celebrate what a precious gift this is.  I can't really talk about it now cause it makes me cry and I feel a little dried out.

I wish they were mine.  All of them, not just the famous "last one".  I want them in my arms.  Tears.  

Good thing this life is bigger than all of us.  Our time here on Earth is so short.  I have plenty of time to be in their space when I think about the big picture.  It gives me a lot of comfort.  I will take them to all the best rock concerts in heaven.  I will exchange a million words with just a look and all will be right.

Unexpected melt down

I just cannot be sure we are finished.

Why does it hurt so much to give these embryos away to a loving home.

What if it means I want just one more.

What if it is just the normal mourning process of moving on.

How am I supposed to tell the difference.

I can't see to type right now, so I think I will have to talk about it later.

Donation anxiety

Not the bad kind, but just so wrapped up with this process I want it to have happened yesterday.

Mostly.

It kind of hit me a couple days ago that my son or daughter will be born elsewhere. Outside my arms.  It was not a fun day.  Today is another one.

I wanted to call the whole thing off.  Maybe I can have 8 more kids, or at least 8 more tries.  There is beauty and pride in poverty.  And mania.

Maybe I lied this wasn't the bad kind of anxiety.  Anxiety cannot be a good kind.  Here come the tears.  The snow helps.  I heard a beautiful sermon once about how snow is God's reminder of fresh starts with him.  I guess this storm is for me and my tears today.

I just really don't have anyone to talk to about it.  It is so fucking heavy it blows people's minds and renders them speechless.

I want these babies for my own.  There I said it.  It hurts so bad.

Letter to my donor

I never sent anything out to my donor.

I became so paralyzed with fear and emotion, my letter sat unsent.  I carried it with me for months, thinking I would finish it.  I never did.

I was afraid to say the wrong thing.  I was afraid the donor might be like me, so critical, no matter what I said, it would be wrong.

Now I am at a point where I feel I have to reach out to her.  I need to tell her about the embryo donation.

How's that for a big cold shock to her when she finally opens a letter from me?

My recipient family will want to have the same access to her that we have - the ability to contact her when Jay is 18.  But it won't be contractual, just a momma to momma agreement.  

I think the donor will want to know about the additional children since she asked that her children be able to reach mine once 18 as well.

I am scared to write this letter.  I don't know how to say it or what to say about my abominable absence during her whole egg retrieval. 

I am also ashamed to come clean with my recipient family.  This momma is so open and proud of this whole process - she is so far advanced compared to me.

The process is moving along well.  We have a serious time deadline to meet but it should be possible.  I am the only thing that seems to be screwing it up.

We have a winner

Winner, winner, chicken dinner.

I just love this family.

They have a four year old daughter.  I watched her climb all over her parents, dance, ask questions and generally be a sweetly disruptive four as we parents were all having a heart attack Skype session.

It was the most telling thing, over any email or phone conversation we could ever have.  I watched this momma laugh it off and handle it with ease.  I even got the camera turned around so we could see the full dance performance.

You know that saying, "I don't care who you are, when a 2 year old hands you a banana, you answer it"?  It was the mothers' rule that All Shall Celebrate When A Child Dances.  I loved her for it.  "Her" could be the momma or the dancing daughter.  Take your pick.

Virtual meeting

Any assvice for a fool like me?

We are planning our Skype session this week with our prospective family.

Dos?  Donts?

How do I keep my focus on what is important.  How do I process anything that is very likely irrelevant but gets my wheels turning in a negative direction.  

I am so fucking critical.  How can I protect this family from my own personal character flaw?

I am so scared.  

If you ever take the time to comment, I could really use it now.  Please.

High chair pain

Since when are my dogs too good to eat vegetables off the floor?

On line dating your recipient family

You know when it is right.  You know when someone takes words out of your head that you didn't know were there.  The exact words you want to hear but you don't know until you let them wash over you.

Even if I had a million requests for our embryos (we didn't), this family would be the right one for us.  I feel like I have found a friend I would have missed otherwise.

How does all this stuff fall together?  How is it that life can rip out your lungs and then make the sun shine on you from the inside?  Heavy shit and I wish I knew how to explain it.

I thought I wanted a more hands off relationship with my "recipient family".  But now, as they grow to become an extension of my own family, I cannot picture it any other way.

We will have an open relationship, but I will be able to manage the faucet that feeds me what I will always consider My Children.  I can soak in it or I can sip from it.  Some days will call for different actions, I can tell already.

How can I not look at them as My Children.  They are not mine by fate, by God's will, whatever.  I don't really get either one of those things.  But it could be that little face sitting at my table making the sign for more more more peaches.

Skype date next wk.  Shame I won't have my roots done, but I think they'll be fine with it.

Latest theme track to my life

I know Ben Howard is old news, but new to me.

I love this tune.  The female bassist is just icing.

Happy to have you home.

I know a certain runner that needs to put this on her ipod to keep her company in the upcoming weeks.  I get goose bumps just thinking about it.  This is for you K.

Another reason I hate my OB

New girl at the desk wants me to sign some updated forms for insurance.

She says, "Wow!  You sure have a big file!"  She was astounded, but stupid.

"You know, a large file isn't something I am happy to have for the record."

Pack of idiots.

My biggest fears are now my strengths

I was so terrified to write my profile.  I was expected to explain what I was looking for in the relationship with the recipient family.

What.

I get sick to my stomach trying to even get my head around that one.  Or I used to anyhow.

You know what?  I dont even like the phrase "recipient family" anymore.  It is so formal. And distant.  I now think of them as my extended family.

This life is too short to draw boundaries.  

It's just more people who love what you love, and how could you not want to be a part of it all?

Babies have the infinite ability to generate unlimited amounts of love.  Family has the power to create love.

Behind the scenes when seeking donor embryos

I don't think I am manic, but I am a little giddy.  Yesterday I was frozen in fear, but today I am buzzing with excitement.

I want to encourage any family who is out there hoping to be a recipient of donor embryos.

As the donor family, you can't create a list of pros/cons or criteria you are looking for with a weighted value.  Much to my dismay, I cannot run this through Excel to get the recipient family.

A match is made on a gut response. 

I expected my inbox to be flooded with emails.  It wasn't.

I tried talking with my sister about it, but she didn't want to.  I think I was a little shocked that she didn't want to be a part of this Massive Decision.  How on earth can I do this alone?  But I have to.  

My sister was fearful her comments would cloud my judgement or shine on something that may or may not be relevant.  If I just feed her facts here and there, she doesn't get the big picture and cannot participate in the process.  It almost trivializes it.

Wise sister, eh?  (She is a reader, so you know she is beaming as she rubs this post all over herself.)

I had several families approach us with long emails, custom written for our ad.  I had several families link to their ad without anything extra.  I had several families basically just ask for the embryos.  Crazy spectrum of participation.

I feel really good.

And then she freaked

I am in the process of posting my ads up to find a home for our embryos.

I feel sick to my stomach.

I cannot even find the words to explain the terror, excitement and deep sorrow it brings me.

How can I possibly make it through this.