The Mom Crowd

A reader asks The Mom Crowd:

Hi, My husband (although he doesn’t know) and I have talked about having wanting another little one. I would like to have it myself, but can’t, because after my 2nd daughter was born, I had my tubes tied. I know I could have it reversed, but there was also the option of a surrogate mom. Can anyone shed some light on that subject, or know of anyone who has used a surrogate mom. Any advice would be great. Oh, I am 35, do my risks increase as my age does? Thanks Moms.

I personally do not have any experience with surrogacy, but I found these great sites that will give you more information. As I was going through the sites, I tried to find information that was not given by a Surrogacy Agency. I felt the information provided on Surrogacy Agency’s websites might be helpful, but may be partial to promote their business.

EverythingSurrogacy.com has many articles with good questions to help you decide if surrogacy is right for you, the different types of surrogacy, and the cost. One of the articles mentioned that a lot of information might be outdated. Be sure to get the newest information.

Surromomsonline.com has some general information and personal stories.

Surrogacy.com’s articles cover many topics such as medical, legal, psychology, and personal stories.

It’s easy to take being a mom for granted. For some women, the act of becoming a mother is not very easy and requires unconventional routes. I am friends with an amazing person who is trying to become pregnant through an egg donor. Her amazing spirit, positive attitude, and HUGE HEART has always been so encouraging to me. Everyone who meets this woman is instantly in love with her because she is one of the most selfless people I know. Due to the sensitivity of this topic, we are not disclosing her name, but please be inspired by the journey she is on right now to become a mom. Here is her ongoing story:

I was so excited on the day I threw away my last empty package of Birth Control pills…we were going to try get pregnant! That was over two years ago.

The first two months went by with no period. After several negative pregnancy tests I visited an OBGYN. Her nurse practitioner told me I needed to go home and draw a bath, light a candle, and read a good book in order to relax. Apparently that was going to do the trick. I left in tears. I knew my body – I had already been through one surgery to remove endometriosis – this was NOT normal. I think she must have somewhat convinced me that I was over-reacting because it was a few months before I went to another doctor. He ran tests, tried out a few drugs on me and made me take my temperature every day for about 3 months. He could never figure out when I was ovulating, and then he prescribed Clomid. When a couple of friends were mortified to hear that he wasn’t monitoring me via ultrasounds, I decided to move on to yet another doctor. He was a “Reproductive Endocrinologist.” I can’t believe I am actually here – only women who can’t get pregnant come here. Oh wait…that is ME! It sank in so quickly that I was actually “Infertile.”

The new doctor reviewed my records and decided to try the Clomid again, but assured me we would be monitoring the progress with regular ultrasounds. I took the maximum dosage of Clomid and went in about every three or four days for vaginal ultrasounds. As bizarre as it seems…you get used to the humiliation and vulnerability of the process. I was so hopeful every time I went in, but I only produced one very small follicle and it just disappeared by the next ultrasound. After a total of three unsuccessful rounds of Clomid, it was time to re-assess the situation. My husband and I went in for a long discussion which resulted in a very scary realization that I was having neurological side effects to the Clomid. OK…so no more Clomid. We were pulling out the “big guns”…injectables. But first, the doctor wanted to do another surgery to remove any new endometriosis and clean out my tubes. Six weeks after the surgery I started the injectables which run about $1300.00 for a cycle which lasts about 12 days. I was taking triple the amount of a normal cycle…you do the math. At one point I was injecting a total of 6 vials of FSH hormone injectables per day. I was a human pin cushion. We did five unsuccessful cycles, or months, of the injectables and I had officially baffled my doctor. He said my ovaries were “laughing” at the drugs.

“I believe you may have Premature Ovarian Failure, or POF. You can expect to start menopause in the next few years.” Although my husband and the doctor were both in the room with me, I felt completely alone and as though I had just been kicked in the stomach. How can this be happening to me? I’m only 34 years old! I had a burning feeling rising up through my chest and throat, but fought back the tears as I still had to pay, yes – I had to PAY to hear this news and I also had to still walk through the lobby of the fertility clinic that had become an all too familiar scene in the last year. The doctor went on to tell me about my options, but it was all just muffled sound as I sat there trying to understand what I had done to deserve this fate.

This was about the middle (so far) of our journey to becoming parents. It is difficult to explain the feelings that come along with the label “Infertile.” Isn’t it my job as a woman to carry a baby? Is my husband going to be disappointed that we may never have the opportunity to produce a baby combined from the two of us? Am I going to be forever resentful of my friends and family who easily became pregnant and now lead their busy “soccer mom” lives? Ugh – this is unacceptable. I am not going down without a fight! I have been successful at everything I have ever put my mind to. I put myself through college, landed great jobs, and married a wonderful man…why should this be any different? There are two very prominent things I have learned throughout this process – 1. I am NOT in control, and 2. People say the most amazing things. Along the way I have heard just about every anecdote from strangers, family and friends that you could imagine. “Just relax, it will happen”, “Everything happens for a reason”, and my favorite “Are you sure God wants you to have children?” A friend and I have joked about writing a book about what NOT to say to a woman when she is going through fertility issues, had a miscarriage, or had a child with a disability. Sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all.

Once the reality set in that the only way I was going to become a mother was through egg donation, I hit the ground running. I guess I could sit around having a pity party, but I am not getting any younger and the situation is not going to change no matter how many tears I shed. Funny thing is, I now cry at the strangest times, especially when I walk by the two “guest bedrooms” upstairs in my house. I feel like I have let everybody down. It is a feeling full of shame and guilt that I cannot provide the joy a child would bring to the people around me.

One of my dearest and most up-beat friends agreed to meet me in Dallas at the agency that would provide the egg donor. As we sit at a large round table and I flip through big white plastic binders, my friend puts her hand on one of the pages as if to distract me and asks “What are you thinking at this very moment?” I tell her I cannot believe I am doing this. I am actually “shopping” for an egg. It is the most surreal moment of my life so far. There is no denying what is happening.

I picked out 11 girls, and the agency also gave me a picture of a girl that had just applied, but they did not have her written profile ready yet. I paid the agency a fee and they gave me copies of all the profiles I had chosen. On the ride back home, I read the profiles to my husband and I used a highlighter to note any “strikes” against her. Besides physical appearance, we were looking at family health history, education, and her answers to questions about the reasons for becoming an egg donor. We had narrowed the list to three girls, and I was still waiting on the profile that went with the picture the agency had given me. I emailed the agency requesting additional photos of the narrowed list of donors and also to request the written profile that went with the photos they had provided.

The following day was my birthday. I opened my email and the agency had sent my requests. I read the previously missing profile and then printed it out for my husband to read. I gave it to him and stood anxiously over him as he read it. He closed the profile, handed it back to me and said “Call the agency and tell them we have made our choice. This is her. ” I can’t believe it – that was my thought exactly! Happy Birthday to me! God had sent us this angel for my birthday. We were on our way.

We forked over a small fortune to the agency and had to sign many papers that would protect both party’s anonymity and also promise legal custody of any resulting embryos. Many people do not realize the financial expenses that come along with this process. The donor receives a fee, the agency receives a fee, we pay all of the donor’s doctor visits, medication, and since I chose a donor that lives in another city, we pay all of her travel expenses as well. I found myself separating emotions from business. Every time I stopped to think about it I broke down in tears. Some happy tears, and some tears of sheer terror. To this day I still wonder what the heck I am doing and wondering if this is the right thing to do.

All we had to do now was wait to see if the donor was available and then start syncing our cycles. She agreed and we both were prescribed several different drugs that would prepare us for the egg transfer. We were both suppressed (our ovaries were basically shut down so that they could be manipulated with drugs) and after both of us had an ultrasound, she would start on the injections that would produce follicles that would hopefully contain the eggs we needed…so we thought. That very day my husband went to the doctor for some pain in his lower abdomen. He had an inguinal hernia and we could not move forward until it was repaired. We had to start all over.

About two months later we arrived at the same point we left off with when my husband had the hernia. I went in for my ultrasound and everything looked great. My donor went in for her ultrasound and everything did NOT look great…she had a cyst on her right ovary. They could not start the stimulating hormones until it was gone. Another week went by and the cyst was still there. I felt like I was climbing to the top of a mountain only to be sent back to the bottom by an avalanche. Yet another week went by and she still had the cyst. My doctor called me and very gently told me the news. He said that if she did not agree to have the cyst drained then we should consider finding another donor. You have got to be kidding me. I refused to do this again – I knew I could not handle it. Luckily she agreed to have the cyst drained and we started everything back up again.

That is where we are as I sit here writing this story for my friend’s website. I am full on anxiousness, hope, and fear all at the same time. It has been the most emotionally, physically, and financially draining experience of my life. It has brought me closer to God and also brought my husband and me closer as well. There truly is a reason all of this is happening to me.

A reader asks The Mom Crowd:

“Mark and I are talking seriously about trying for our first baby and the thought of it is so overwhelming. I would love to know what other moms have been through, great resources to check out, etc. Another thing we are dealing with is different opinions on some parenting questions. I know every marriage is different, but it would be great to hear how other couples deal with differing opinions.”

My husband and I did not agree on the timing of our first child. He wanted to wait longer and I was thinking, “I’m not getting any younger.” Timing was the one thing we did not agree on. I remember praying that we would get on the same page and I just waited. About year and a half after we got married, we were at a fancy birthday/Valentines Day dinner we were talking about when to have kids. We miraculously agreed on a year and a half from that date.

Fast forward a year and a half and we still weren’t sure if we were ready. We had some concerns about not being out of debt by the time the baby came so I could quit my job to be a stay-at-home mom. There was also the larger question of “are we ready for this?” Circumstances arose that helped calm our fears. While talking with his friend who had just become a father my husband realized, “He did it and he’s still alive.” Also, our best friends were about to try to start a family. So we took the leap and started trying. Honestly, that part was super fun. Two months later we were pregnant. I was vomiting all the time and the fun stopped, but we were excited about being parents. We weren’t going to be completely out of debt by the time the baby came, but we trusted God that He would work everything out and He has!

We didn’t know how to address parenting questions until we were actually parents. We talked about parenting in our pre-marriage counseling, but had no clue about the feelings and emotions involved in these types of decisions. Each day together we are still learning how to parent Ace. The pre-marriage curriculum that we went through was called Marriage Savers. The couple that counseled us is still around and has three amazing grown children. We know that we can call them anytime we have questions about parenting. We often ask other parents what worked for them.

The decision for me to stay home came naturally for us, but I know it does not for other couples. Each couple has different opinions about staying home or working based on what their parents did. One spouse’s mom may have worked and took care of the kids, so they set that expectation on their spouse. I believe some moms are meant to work and it does not take away from their role as a mother. Ultimately, it is about trusting what God wants for your family. If God called me to go back to work I would be there and I would trust that He would work everything out. We were able to have an open dialogue about the decision and eventually came to a mutual agreement.

We did have some financial concerns, but we got lots of advice to not let finances control our decision about when to start a family. I am glad I listened to that advice. I wouldn’t trade our decision to start a family for anything.

How would you answer the reader’s questions? How did you decide to start your family? Did you and your spouse disagree on any parenting issues and how did you resolve them? Do you have any resource recommendations?

Additional Resources:

Marriage Builders on How to Resolve Conflicts
Stay at Home Calculator on Parents.com
Articles relating to staying home on Babycenter.com
Chapter 6 of Financial Peace Revisted by Dave Ramsey. This chapter talks about the finances of a second income.

My journey with Gestational Diabetes (GD) began during my 24th week of pregnancy when I failed my first one hour blood sugar test. I then had to take a three hour test where I fasted, drank some very sweet orange soda, and got my blood drawn four times to test my blood sugar levels every hour. I was not very concerned about failing the second test, because I had many friends who told me that they failed the first test, but passed the second one. Even though I knew that I had a family history of diabetes, I believed that I was in shape and eating a reasonably healthy diet, so this wouldn’t affect me.

My results came a few days later and I was shocked to learn that I had Gestational Diabetes. The news brought both disappointment and fear because I didn’t really know what this meant for my baby and me. I knew I was not looking forward to the hassle of extra doctor visits and learning about a whole new issue when I was already a naturally tired pregnant lady. Also, I knew that my diet and lifestyle would have to completely change. This now meant that I would have to see a Specialist and attend a class.

I went to the class where they taught me about the condition, testing my blood sugar, and my diet. Unfortunately, after the class, I was still unclear about what exactly GD was and how it affected my baby, my delivery, and me. All I really knew was that I could have a very big baby. I didn’t understand the diabetic diet that they had given me. What is one bread serving anyway? Diabetic measurements were a whole new encrypted code that I had to figure out. I was also instructed to test my blood sugar by pricking my finger seven times a day. All of this information was confusing and I was feeling overwhelmed. After my extended period of morning sickness, this was the worst week of my pregnancy.

That night before I had to start testing myself, I went out for my last meal – French toast. During dinner, my husband helped me plan out a schedule of when to test, when to eat, and what to eat. The first two weeks were hard, but eventually everything turned into a habit.

I had a lot of motivation to stay on track with the my GD diet:

• I really wanted to have a natural birth and to not be induced or have a C-section. I knew that if I was going to have a big baby, the chances of having a natural birth became less.
• I thought that if I was eating healthy, then I was teaching my child how to eat healthy too. I liked the idea that I could teach my child something in the womb. I was hoping that I could teach him/her to like all kinds of foods.
• I had to turn in my blood sugar meter readings every two weeks. I lived for the nurse and doctor to tell me what a great job I was doing. I wanted/needed that pat on the back to keep going.
• I knew that this diet was not forever. I had huge plans for desserts to be delivered to my hospital room. My friend even came over the Saturday after I had given birth and made me Stuffed French Toast in freshly baked cinnamon chip bread with pure Maple syrup – the best French Toast I ever had in my life.

Towards the end of my pregnancy my doctor wanted to schedule an induction date. It was scheduled six days before my due date. I told my very-knowledgeable-about-birth friend about my inducement date and she questioned me closer about the reasoning behind the induction. She also pointed out that a lot of inductions end up in cesareans. I realized that I was not sure why I had to be induced. All I knew was that I had a chance of having a large baby.

(more…)

I wish I could tell you in a five step article what happens when you find out your baby has Down syndrome, but every situation and every person is so different that the best I can do is tell you my experience.

On the day of our sonogram to find out the sex of our very first child, my husband, the two first-time grandmas-to-be and I anxiously waited in the waiting room for my sonogram. We first had the obligatory weigh-in, blood pressure check, and “how have you been feeling” with the nurse. Then the doctor came in. She asked me how I was feeling and I explained to her my eagerness to find out the sex of our baby. She first wanted to share with me the results of my quad screen. I’ll never forget her words, “It looks like your baby has an elevated chance of having Down syndrome.” Everyone in the room was shocked, except for me. I knew how unreliable those screening tests were, besides I was only 21 years old! I kept reassuring my husband that those tests meant nothing. We went back to the waiting room, and I was still my upbeat perky self waiting for the sonogram tech to call us back. I wanted my mini-McKenna…I wanted a girl so badly!!

Finally, the sonogram! The technician was conducting the sonogram and measuring all kinds of things on the baby. I kept thinking to myself, “come on already, look between the legs!” The technician then told us she wanted the doctor to look at some things. The OB walked in, looked at the screen, and said, “I have to be honest. This concerns me” as she gently touched my leg. Not only did my quad screen point to the baby having Down syndrome, but there were many physical findings on the sonogram as well. Through a cloud of tears and emotion, we found out we were having a girl, but no longer was she going to be a mini-McKenna. She was going to be different than me. She wasn’t going to look like me. She wasn’t going to act like me. Along with my picture with the arrow pointing between her legs, I was given sonogram pictures with measurements of the back of her neck, her femur, her nasal bridge…all measurements that said my baby wasn’t going to be normal. We followed up with a series of level II sonograms. Although we never had the amnio which would have confirmed Down syndrome, the doctors were sure my baby had Down syndrome when they later found a heart defect that is almost exclusive to babies with Down syndrome. My husband and I held on to the small chance that she didn’t have Down syndrome, but tried to prepare for that possibility.

My 6 hour labor and delivery went off without a hitch. As soon as I saw her, I knew she had Down syndrome because I had studied every picture of a newborn with Down syndrome that I could find. Google and I became very close, almost too close, during the remainder of my pregnancy.

For a mother, it is the worst thing in the world to hear that something may be wrong with your baby. The guilt, the tears, and the “why me’s” flood every part of you. Then the compassion for your child takes over. The “why me’s” turns into “why her” and the tears become tears for your baby, but the guilt seems to remain. “What if I didn’t have that margarita before I knew I was pregnant.” “When anyone asked if I wanted a boy or a girl, I immediately said I wanted a girl-I should have said I didn’t care as long as the baby was healthy!” “I slept on my right side instead of my left.” “If only I would have eaten better and not gained those forty pounds.” “If only I would have remembered to take my prenatal vitamin every day.” “Everyone must think there’s something wrong with my husband and I.” “Does my husband think this is my fault?” “Is it his fault?”

My daughter has Down syndrome, but that is a very small part of who she is. My daughter is a very unique, original little girl with her own personality. She has the persistence of a mule (and of her mother), my blonde hair and my father’s hazel eyes. She has short stubby toes like my sister and mother and has very straight fine hair like my husband and his family. She loves music almost more than Barney and prefers chocolate milk over apple juice. She is the best big sister in the world, until her baby brother takes a toy that she wants.

Are there things I go through that other mothers don’t have to – yes. Are there things my daughter goes through that other little girls don’t have to go through – yes. Do I worry about my little girl- what mother doesn’t? But at the end of the day, I got more than a mini-McKenna and I wouldn’t change anything about my precious little girl – not even her extra 21st chromosome!  For an exciting update on Down syndrome in our family, click here!!