I got a call this afternoon from a nice lady named Cheryl. Her mother-in-law gets her hair cut by Bob. Cheryl is considering being a surrogate for her dear friend and she had a few questions for me. My phone rang just as I was mentally cursing Max and Bob's names, for my daily dose of heartburn was kicking in at that moment, which makes me irritable to say the least. "Can you tell me about your experiences being a surrogate for Max and Bob?" she asked. What a sour time for me to be answering this question. My reply went something like this...
Well, I can start by telling you it's NOT what you think it's going to be. It sounds like a wonderful gift to give to your friend, which it most definitely is, but it's not like you just lie down on the doctor's table, they gentle glide the embryos in and you calmly wait to take that positive pregnancy test. Oh no. It's NOTHING like that.
The drug regimen is enough to make you want to hurl yourself off a bridge. You start with the little, bitty injections of Lupron in your stomach. I remember thinking that they were awful! The needle was a half an inch long and they stung like a bee sting. Your stomach is covered with black and blue bruises from the injection sites and sometimes, if you hit a vein, they might bleed a little bit. But, let me tell you, I'd inject my belly with Lupron for years without flinching, had I known about the progesterone nightmare that was coming.
After about 10 days of Lupron, there's the ultrasound to check to see if it's doing the job of "calming your ovaries." Apparently, I have high strung ovaries, because at each initial ultrasound (I had two since I went through two rounds of in-vitro) my ovaries were growing cysts, which meant staying in a Lupron holding pattern until the following week to see if I could graduate to estrogen patches.
Once I got the green light for estrogen, I learned exactly what estrogen does to one's body (view attached picture - the fertility goddess). Estrogen "puffs" your boobs, thighs, and belly EXACTLY like the picture here and aids in the building of the lining of the uterus. In addition to the patches, they prescribe estrogen pills. I took one in the morning, one in the evening and then at night, I had to stick one up my "hoo hah." The estrogen patches on your belly are itchy and irritating and I had a line of red rashes just below my Lupron bruise line, but you don't even know itch and irrutation until you feel the estro-ooze from the pills placed in your vagina nightly. Though I know it's not PC to throw your hands down your pants and scratch violently, there were plenty of times when I did just that. Oh the itch!
With all of this, my uterine lining still wasn't responding; it wasn't building like it should according to the ultrasound, so we added more. We added so much that I ended up checking myself into the hospital with what I thought was a stroke. Turns out, it was an estrogen overdose. See, estrogen can cause dizziness and headaches and I ended up having an a-typical migraine that caused me to lose my ability to speak. It was terrifying, but after two CT scans, it was determined that I was going to live. That's why, on round two of in-vitro fertilization, after I had miscarried the first baby, I broke down sobbing as they were drawing my blood because I had just left yet another ultrasound where my lining was only five milimeters and I knew they were going to say, "We'll need to add more estrogen." I can't tell you how I loathe estrogen.
But, if you hold out and take enough drugs, you get the happy news. "You don't have any cysts currently, your lining looks good, you can start your progesterone injections." Progesterone needs to be injected into your bum. You use a 22 gauge needle that is about two inches long. The progesterone is in a thick cottonseed oil, the consistency of maple syrup. My boyfriend, Tim, has the honors of spearing me every night right around 7:00pm. If he's out of town, my dad comes over to administer my shots, which feel like punishment. I used to be runner. Now, it hurts to walk because any jiggling of my pierced ass reminds me that it's taken 70 stabbings over the last year. The injection sites swell and bleed and ooze and harden. They itch and burn and ache and eventually, you're injecting into old injection sites because your butt has been so brutalized that there are no more places to puncture. "Are you OK with needles?" I ask. Cheryl has been silent, but for a few, "Oh my Gods."
Well, what about this...are you OK with not having sex? Because, once you start your drug regimen, forget about having sex with your husband. This was a tough one for me because after I got divorced, I realized that I really like sex. And I have a great Best Guy that has been with me for years and this was a BIG part of our relationship. I signed a contract saying that I wouldn't have sex while attempting in-vitro for Max and Bob. I basically gave my body to Max and Bob for a year while we tried getting pregnant for them. This doesn't go over well with your partner, nor was it any fun for me.
Truthfully, I had no idea what I was agreeing to when I said I'd be their surrogate. I am on so many hormones, I look in the mirror sometimes and wonder if the real me is still in here. My ass hurts when I sit, stand, lie down, walk - it hurts all the time. I've dedicated hours upon hours to blood draws, ultrasounds, doctor's appointments, ER visits, and the like. I've taken vacation days from work to attend appointments in Seattle. I've had more things shoved up inside my body this year than I care to recall. It's like a nightmare. I have a calendar that outlines which drugs I take at what times and how much AND while traveling for work, I have to find people willing to give me my shots. Let's just say that there are colleagues of mine that know more about me than they really should.
It's by far, the hardest thing I've ever done. I've lost my mind, my independence, my spontaneity, my body, my figure, my ability to exercise and run. It's been one of the hardest years of my whole life and NOW, I'm finally pregnant and I have another eight months to go!
"Oh my God," said Cheryl. "That sounds so horrible!"
"It is," I said. "It's awful."
"Can I ask you, if you had known all this before, would you have even done it?"
"Uuuumm," I say, as I swallow down the acid in the back of my throat that feels like it's burning a hole through my esophagus. This again conjures up the curses for Max and Bob. And then, I soften a little as I recall the looks of awe on their faces as they watched their baby wiggle back and forth on the ultrasound screen last week. Its little arms and legs were visible and its healthy heart was beating for his/her parents to see. I get to hand them their baby in a few months; these first time fathers - one of my oldest and dearest friends. I get to carry this baby safely in my body until he/she joins us on this planet.
Would I do this again, knowing what I know now?
"Of course," I say without any hesitation. "Of course I'd do it again."
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