It was an interesting time in my life. Carrying someone else’s child was more worrisome than carrying my own. I didn’t want to let the parents down. I followed all the instructions they wished. I took tons of vitamins and ate well. They always insisted I eat more because they thought the more I ate, the healthier the baby and I would be.
I can write so much about that long, interesting journey. The parents were amazing, generous people who had been trying to conceive on their own and with IVF for ten years. Once again, God intervened and our paths crossed.
I learned about their family and culture. They met my mom and my daughter. We went to lunches and spent time chit chatting about various things. They were anxious and had a lot of questions about parenthood.
The mother was more businesslike and the father was more quiet and smiley. They were both Chinese and the father knew very little English so he usually was quiet, but always smiling. He was kind and was very well mannered in making sure I had everything I needed. They both were like that.
The bond we had during that time was strong. I knew it was because I was carrying their son, but it was also because we now share this, forever.
I remember on Thanksgiving Day, I had ran out of the progesterone oil I was to inject twice a day and the pharmacy was out. They were able to get it a their local pharmacy for me and drove three hours in traffic to bring it to me. Then, they immediately drove all the way back home. Their baby was so important to them.
I remember the mom told me once that her husband mentioned that he heard that holding a baby too much is spoiling. She would ask for advice on things like that. What is funny is, the day after the baby was born I went to visit them in their room and the mother told me that daddy could not put the baby down. He loved holding his son.
I remember the day we got pregnant. It’s interesting how it works. We knew we were going to get pregnant that day. Although it isn’t a guarantee, but we had an appointment to get knocked up basically. The embryo was genetically tested so we knew it was a boy and it was a good quality, thriving embryo. I knew my body was in the perfect condition since I had followed the entire transfer schedule exactly as instructed.
I remember one of the requirements for the embryo transfer was to have a full bladder. That was the most full I had ever been. It seemed like the transfer took forever. The reproductive endocrinologist FINALLY arrived and I literally warned him that I had to pee so bad and I may pee on his face.
My knees were shaking, I had to go so bad. They pulled up on the t.v. Monitor in the room, a picture, very magnified, of the embryo in the lab. They had to show proof to verify that the embryo they were taking from the lab was the correct one. Once verified, they sucked the embryo into what looked like a tube but it was more like a needle. Now I waited for the lab person to walk it over.
Seemed like hours to me since I was still holding my pee. That was all I could think about at that moment. It was taking all my strength to not just go. The woman from the lab came over and they, again, identified the embryo verbally and the RE then transferred the embryo into my uterus. Now this part was fun to watch. I forgot to mention, I am lying there with a super full bladder and some type of camera all up in my uterus. Not just in my vagina, in my uterus!
They put the embryo in and the RE found a nice little resting space for it in the fluff of my uterus lining. Then, he handed the tube thing back to the lab lady. Now I had to wait for her to go back to the lab to confirm the embryo was not in the tube.
Felt like forever.
She confirmed the embryo had been transferred successfully and the doctor told me I was allowed to pee now. He said “Don’t worry, it won’t fall out.” I got up and finally went pee. Best. Pee. Ever.
After that satisfying moment, I went into the resting area where I chilled out in a bed for a half hour while eating yummy snacks provided by nurses. The intended mother sat with me and we talked about what had just happened and what the next steps were.
Once the time was up we all went out to eat to celebrate. We had to wait about a week or two to confirm if we were officially pregnant. I remember this was the fun part. I asked the parents if they wanted me to pee on a stick and tell them or if they only wanted the blood test results. They were fine with the peeing on a stick reveal.
I had blood tests very often for that week or two to determine the hcg levels in my blood. They were increasing at a good rate meaning the baby was thriving. I peed on a stick and it was a very, very light line. Everyday I peed on one or two sticks. By day four or five, I think, I peed on a stick and the line was very dark so I decided I should invest in a fancy digital pregnancy test.
I peed on the digital pregnancy stick and it, of course, came up “Pregnant.” The parents were so happy and worried of course. They checked on me a lot to make sure I was feeling okay and to see how the doctor appointments were going.
This was only a peek into the beginning of the journey. There are so many little details that go into an IVF pregnancy and surrogacy. I am so happy these people chose me and trusted me with helping complete their family.