Maybe Baby

Luis:

All days are normal until they are not. The Covid Quarantine has blurred the days of the week to a repetitive Groundhog Day.  However, with all of the baby business going on, it’s definitely brought us some excitement to the routine. 

This day, towards the end of our summer, was just like any other over the last several months and began with a child begging us to get up. We were looking forward to the official blood test scheduled for the following week, but we also knew Florencia had a couple of pregnancy tests that we gave her, in case she wanted to test it out beforehand. Although we never specifically asked her to pee or not to pee, we knew she might be antsy. 

Erika and Florencia texting earlier that day.

So Florencia and the family came to our house later that night. We gathered in the kitchen and let the kids play. Florencia handed Erika a card. Inside there was a drawing of a pregnancy stick (see below). We have no experience with these so the indicator lines meant very little to us. I think initially I thought, “Yeah, that's what we want, we want the line to appear.” Erika even said, “Yup. Positive or negative. Either way! Let’s see what happens.” Our faces of confusion must have been enough for Florencia to take and she immediately handed over the prego box that we'd purchased.

via Friends on GIPHY

This was us trying to figure out what Florencia was trying to tell us.

Again we thought, “Umm, Erika’s pee is not going to tell us anything, so...” Our confused faces were clear and Florencia said, “Open it.” The confusion continued as we looked at the seemingly unopened pregnancy box. But in true Florencia fashion, she had meticulously opened, peed, and repackaged the box. She had known the results for two days. I think after the congratulations from Alan, he mentioned that this was the longest secret Florencia had kept in her life. 

I hate to compare, but I will anyway. When we were going through this process with Baby #1, my every other thought was about Baby. The possibilities, the unknowns, the next steps if the transfer worked. The outcomes were endless to think about so it was constantly something on my mind. This time has been more straightforward. No retrieval process, no agency back and forth, and I wasn’t there for the transfer either (missed out on the giggles), and so I’ve felt more distant from the process and maybe less emotional. 

Nonetheless, I think most of these distant feelings started to fade once I saw the pregnancy test. The news of a pregnancy is usually a private and personal experience. We, however, got that news in a unique way. No less special. We found out our family was growing surrounded and delivered by our friends. Have my distant feelings changed? Yes. Have the uncertainties of restarting parenthood started to hit me? Yes. But this time we have Mateo to look at for inspiration. We don’t know much about Baby #2 yet, but I hope it knows it will be loved by us as much and as if it was our only.

Erika:

So even with the amazing news of the pregnancy test, there was still another hurdle to jump. The blood test. They look for HCG levels above 100. She went in to take the test later the following week and we didn't hear from her all day. I tried not to worry or over-think and really tried to keep myself distracted. 

Mateo and I were watching Star Wars in the evening and through our partially cracked blinds, I saw someone come up to our door. I didn't really think about it and assumed it was someone dropping off a package or a flyer. So I didn't get up. 

About ten minutes later, I see someone pass by the window again. Why would someone still be out there?

So I get up to find Florencia hopping back into her truck after creating some sneaky street art on our doorstep. She got caught! Amazing numbers!

Two days later the numbers needed to have doubled.
HCG for the second test was 595!

Luis, throughout this whole process and even last time, has had the same mantra. 

“So far so good.” So I’m going to stick with that for now, 

and just be in awe of each moment we get, 

each time just one breath closer, 

and with each exhale say, “So far, so good.”

"There is so much love coming together to bring you into the world right now, and your little life is a miracle we've prayed for. Keep growing baby. You’re in good hands." 

---excerpt from a letter to our new baby

What hope looks like

So, I'd planned on writing my next post in June.

But now it's July.

It's midnight on July 2nd and I can't sleep... once again.

My last post, in November, was a declaration that Mateo wanted a sibling, and we'd decided to take a leap of faith and figure out next steps in growing our family. We just put it out there, with zero direction and zero answers, but we were ready to think about it, talk about it, and simply allow ourselves to imagine it.

Less than a month later, things started to actually take shape. 

To be more specific...

Someone had offered to carry our baby.



Whaaaaaaaa?!?!

I'll give you a minute.
Trust me. I know. It took me days to actually acknowledge and fully grasp what had been offered to us.

(It's a fun story.
I’ll tell it in the next post.)

But I'm writing here now because so much has happened since December.
2020 happened.

Initially everything actually moved really fast. December wasn't even over and we had already contacted doctors, lawyers, and made appointments with all the proper channels. Time flew, and by February we were all cleared and ready to go. Yeah. That quick. We just needed to decide on a date.

But then March happened.

It's funny, right? Just because God seemed to have flung the door of opportunity wide open, didn't mean we were going to actually walk through it, at least not right away. We have always understood that none of this, ultimately, is about our timing and so we've just been kind of standing there, patiently, holding the door open.

Collectively, the four of us decided we should wait.
There was just so much uncertainty and we wanted to make sure that when it happened we'd all feel a peace about it. In March, there was very little peace, at least not for me. There were a lot of unanswerable questions and we all agreed to just take some time, focus on our new work-from-home world and re-visit later. I am so grateful that we've all been on the same page and we know that this will happen when it's supposed to.

Which leads me to my next thought.


The world is freaking crazy.

And though that is a truth as old as time, I can't help but feel overwhelmed when I think about the future. What is the future we are ushering forward for our children? How are we going to navigate these waters in a world that seems so volatile? How will we raise these children to live, thrive, and find joy in a world filled with so much injustice, ignorance, and fear.

All I could come up with is,
We will Love them.

And we will not hide from them, these ugly truths of the world.
We will show them that they exist and give them the tools to stand up against them.

We will show them what compassion looks like.
We will show them what forgiveness looks like.
We will show them what empathy looks like.
We will show them what grace looks like.
We will show them what healing looks like.


And they, in turn, based merely on their existence in the world, will show us what hope looks like.

To find out more to our ongoing journey (and who our surrogate is...) click here: Let's go back...

This is a piece by one of my favorite creators,
Morgan Harper Nichols.
I recently purchased her book, All Along You Were Blooming 
and she just really has a way of connecting to people through her words and images. Her work has been a blessing.

Time to talk

It’s 1am.

I have a lot on my mind.

The top thing, the thing that is always there, is my awe of Mateo and the little man he is becoming. Though I could always imagine having a child, I could never have imagined in a million years that it would be this guy. He is so many things. He is silly, he is tender, he is imaginative, he's also a little wild, and maybe a tad ocd. And I adore being his mother. I'm in a constant state of surprise, shock, adoration, and exhaustion, and at this point in life I don't think I experience time the way I used to.  I've taken the last couple of years away from the blog (it got hard to do because, you know, life) and I’ve just been documenting as many small moments as possible on my Instagram account, trying to hang onto every little bit.

At the end of the hallway in our new home.
The wooden panels were gifts at Mateo's baby shower.

Seeing what a great little human Mateo is leads me to the next thing that’s been weighing on my mind, for at least the last year, maybe two.  Should we have more little humans? It’s not even really a question of should we, as it is how and when should we? And are we mentally and emotionally prepared to do it all again? 

           

Here’s the thing, first time around, there was so much uncertainty about the unknown. Anxiety over what the surrogacy process would actually be like and how we would cope with it all. Fast forward through the actual experience, it could not have gone more smoothly.  It was the most beautiful, humbling, awe-inspiring thing we’ve ever been through and we are forever grateful (actually, what’s a word beyond grateful?) for the blessings that the whole journey brought us. (We love you Tina.)

Today, we’re faced with a new set of questions and a different kind of anxiety, which I think is coming from a set of “expectations” that we didn't have before. It sometimes feels so overwhelming that I'd rather just avoid the whole thing... the questions, the conversations, even the answers. But I know I just have to let go, which is the easiest thing to say, and usually (for me) the hardest thing to do. 

We know, through our experience, that God’s plan is bigger than our own understanding and that stepping forward in faith is the only way forward, but oooh, it ain’t easy. Because even with that understanding, we still have to make actual appointments and crucial decisions and the anxiety leading up to that, no matter how prayer-filled the process, is real. Because just like becoming parents for the first time, the immense pressure over making all the “right” decisions is completely nerve wracking. All we can really do is try our best and focus on our breath in the moment. And so here I go, taking my first deep breath, letting go of all anxiety and expectation, trusting God and the process that will unfold as we go.

We don’t know who will carry our little one. 

We don’t know when we will start.

We don’t know if we’ll use an agency.

We don’t know what new surprises or hardships may come up along the way.

But,
We do know that we’re ready to start talking about it. 

We’re ready to start planning for it. 

We’re ready to start moving in a direction that will lead us to our new little human. 

And Mateo is definitely ready to be the best big brother there ever was. 

Three and a half. But if you ask him, he's "almost four."

I wrote this at 1am, back in October. Feels good to get it out.

Feel free to reach out and ask questions. Or even share your own journey.

Thank you for all of your love and continued prayers and support for our growing family.

To see the update to this post, go to "What Hope Looks Like."

Fast forward almost a year later... so much happened.

In the Mess & the Miracles

Erika:

A year ago today I climbed the pyramid of the Sun with my dad. 

We looked forward to celebrating the start of 2016.

Ensima del sol. NYE 2015

Two days later, our entire family would face one of the most painful and trying times of our life. 

Here is an excerpt from my post last January, "The Year Of..."

"2015 had taught me many things, but the biggest is how out of control we are in this life. 2016 started with an undeniable reminder... All I can do is have hope that things will be better, and understand that it's a new day every morning."

In the hospital in Mexico last January.

As angry, resentful, and helpless as I know we all felt at times
throughout this incredibly difficult and unpredictable year, I can't help but look back
and see all of the joy, hope, and healing that this year brought us. 

Only a couple of weeks old.

God was there with us in the middle of the mess and the miracles.
And I know He'll continue to be as we go into 2017. 

These little bear booties represent all the hope we held onto all year.

We've all come a long way.
NYE 2016

"Mateo, you were the light our family needed in a pretty dark time. Even while you were in Tina's belly, you were giving us hope for the future. You connect with Papa and everyone you meet in such a special way. I've seen you bring love and comfort to people in the middle of loss, just by letting them hold you. As crazy as everything got around us and in the world, we could always look at you to be reminded of God's promises, and of His unending, unconditional love. You will forever be the light of our life. Our most special gift." 

---excerpt from a letter to our baby

We all start somewhere...

It has almost been a year since we began writing this blog. For those of you who have been following, you know that sooooo much has happened in that time.... We've come a long way from where we started.

As part of our participation in National Infertility Awareness Week and their #startasking campaign, I've decided to do a re-posting of that very first entry (#tbt). It was a hard one to write because for the first time ever, I was going to be very public about something I had kept very private for so long.

When I was first diagnosed, I didn't ask a single question. I had no idea what to ask. I didn't know where to get support or who I could turn to. I had zero resources at the time and it took me 10 years to build up the courage to start asking questions.

We started this blog, inspired by other women and men, whom we'd found through blogs and support groups, who have helped us not only find answers, but find the right questions. And we haven't stopped asking questions since.

RESOLVE.ORG is an awesome resource and a great place to start asking. I found them a couple of years ago, during NIAW, through a blog I was reading at the time. They are an advocacy group for the infertility community and help bring light to a diverse range of issues. I'm happy to be posting in connection with them today.

So here is our very first entry from May of last year.

Erika: 

I wanted to start a blog before I turned 30. So I did.  I’d planned to one day use it to discuss all things baby-making. I thought when I turned 30 I could start the conversation. Then I decided to wait till I was 31, since that is how old my mom was when she had me. But we knew we were still a ways away from really moving forward, and so, we waited.

In that wait time,

...we traveled.

...I became full time at work.
    ...we did research and waited for doors to open.

...we prayed and figured out which doors we would be walking through first.

...we shared our story with close friends and family.

...we continued to breathe.

We continued the journey.

And now I’m 33. (Luis’ favorite number.) I know it’s more typical to say that we took things one day at a time or one step at a time. But there were  moments when we couldn’t step anywhere. For whatever reason, someone had called a “time-out.” And so we’d wait… and though we may not have been moving forward, we always continued to breathe.


 

Breathe in faith… breathe out fear.

And now we’re ready.  One breath closer, we’re ready to share our journey.

Here it goes…

At the age of about 20, I got news no one expects to hear.
“You’ll never be able to carry a baby.”
Never? Like, never never? The Dr. assured me. Never. In that moment, sitting in his office, holding a picture of my insides that made it very clear... that word gave me a sense of total hopelessness. In my mind he had just said, “You will never be a mother.”
Keep in mind... he just told that to a person who had breast-fed and birthed nearly ALL of her dolls growing up. I played the mommy game. And I played it well.
At the time, the shock prevented me from asking questions or seeking out support.
I remember the day… and I remember driving my ‘89 red corolla around for a really long time. A really long time. And then I found myself at Luis’ house. Out of high school, just over a year… this news was going to end it all.
The relationship was over.

I told him. He listened. I was ready to walk out and he said… with an unnatural certainty that no sophomore in college could ever have… “We’ll have a family one day.” He said more, but that’s all I heard. It was as simple as that.

It was that hope that got me through the last 13 years. Not to say it was easy… not at all. I’ve dealt with my share of major lows in this time, but I came out of it knowing “we’ll have a family one day.” It took years to grieve the loss of a belly I would never have. Once I fully accepted that, I was able to focus on the baby that I one day would have. It was the joy, in that hope that I found, that got me through it.

One other thing that has really helped in just the last year, sharing. We have finally told family and friends about the situation. For years I was terrified that we would be met with tilted, sorrow-filled heads and pity-filled hearts. I could NOT have been more wrong. Everyone has been SO crazy supportive, curious, encouraging, positive, and loving. A few tears, but all filled with joy and excitement (and some laughter) at the thought of seeing Luis and Erika become parents. Everyone thought babies were the last thing on our mind, when really… babies were always the goal. We didn’t want to necessarily discuss it till we had to.

It’s time.

This is for people to follow if they want to stay caught up on our journey.

My hope is that through this blog people will realize that road-blocks in baby-making are a lot more common than people think. We need to take the shame out of it. Just in the last year I have connected with so many others who’ve had their own struggles and it’s been great to connect and add to the collective sense of hope.

Luis:

It is only fitting that I start writing this returning from Las Vegas. It would serve as a great metaphor for what our life has been like. We have made some major gambles, double downs, stay, parlays. Winning a few here and there along with some losses. However, I hope that our biggest win is still to come. 

I suppose this might be an insight to my thoughts and feelings. They do not come out much on a regular basis. Not that I don’t have any, but more so that I try to keep busy so I don’t have to think about it. Do I feel NUMB? Not really. Just putting things that might cause pain to stay at a distance. This whole process has not brought us pain and I don’t figure it will. We have tried to keep things positive. Understanding that there are no wrong choices or bad outcomes. Things happen just as they are suppose to. With a purpose. With cause. It's tough to think that the things we have decided on doing are the way things are suppose to happen. But God has the plan.

I would hope that if you read any of this, you would get a chance to know what it’s like to be in our situation. We have all been given things to overcome in life. No one gets a free pass. Ours just happens to be one that’s not really discussed socially. Infertility is almost as taboo as sex. Only we don’t really make light of infertility. Unable to have children… yikes, it’s heavy to think about. It’s tough to swallow, the thought of not having a father daughter/son relationship. As much as we may love or hate our parents the fact remains that we have one. At some point all of us think about being parents. It’s in our nature. Our survivability. 

What drives me to be a dad? Relationships. I have this unexplained gut feeling that I HAVE to be a dad. I’m ready to be one. Some of us don’t have a choice in when we do become parents. BUT since we do, I’m happy that it’s starting now. Not for selfish reasons, but for the relationship that I want to build. A life long commitment. An accountability for more than just me. "Aren’t you married?" Ya, and I’m sure Erika would agree that we might love our child beyond the love we know for each other. I want to be part of that.

I would also add that I’m open to talk. We have held this in for more than 10 years. I guess I would like to talk. About whatever. No bad questions. There are no, “should I have not asked?” questions. And if you don’t want to talk, that’s ok too. But encouragement is always appreciated. A hug, handshake, comment, wink, smile, “like,” whatever works.


We’ll add to the story a little bit at a time. For now, we leave you with this:

“As much as we have enjoyed our travels, we have always known that there would one day be an even bigger and more exciting journey ...more rewarding than all of them combined. Our life together, thus far, has been in preparation for our next “trip.” It’s been a preparation for you.”

---excerpt from a letter to our baby

The Element of Surprise

From my amazing friend Jen.
"The Wonderful Things You Will Be" by Emily Winfield Martin

Erika:

So, in the last couple of weeks many of you have been asking me this very question....

it's a... from Erika Perales on Vimeo. I Love Lucy season 2

Whelp! That's all I can say too. Last week we had our 20 week anatomy scan and we totally could have found out what it is... but we held strong. We did not turn around to see the screen. Luis and I both looked at each other, wide-eyed... freaking out... realizing THIS was our chance... that all we had to do was give in and we'd be able to find out! All we had to do was turn our heads.... Oh MAN, we were so close to turning around. At least I was. 

All we needed to know is baby is healthy, everything looked good, it's average size right now, with fairly long arms (like the Mezas) and has a super cute nose. The best part was it looked like baby was praying at one point, with its hands cupped together. I will assume baby was praying for "Papa." 

These are the eyes I was locked into so I wouldn't turn around.

Baby waving!

Baby praying!

Baby!!!

When we told people that we weren't planning on finding out the gender, 99.9% of people said we were out of our minds. Like straight, CRAZY. But at this point, after waiting so long... I honestly don't care one way or the other. We are just so excited to be having a BABY. And I don't feel like I need to know what it is (other than a healthy baby) in order to plan and feel connected. I will say, when we were in Mexico... it was a bit challenging... and I ended up buying both little boy AND little girl stuff. And even when we went to Vietnam a few years ago, I bought a little blue AND a little pink kimono. But even once they're here... our baby boy will not always wear blue, nor will our little girl always wear pink.

Our next post will be about all of the registering and planning madness that we're in right now.... I think I will call it Baby Obsession.

And "Gender Neutral" is apparently really common now. Ducks and Frogs are no longer your only option! (Thank you God.) There are like a million colors out there and most look great for boys and girls. Also, we've already planned out how to make our "travel-themed" GN nursery. Oh... and that's actually a cool story. So, maybe a month or so into the pregnancy, I started thinking about nursery ideas. I'd shown Luis some images of blankets and wall-hangings related to travel, since we've been lots of places and since baby is our new "adventure."  Up until that point, I hadn't mentioned the idea to anyone else. Well, then like 3 weeks later Tina sent me a link to a GN travel-themed nursery! and was like, "...totally thought of you guys... It is perfect for Baby Perales." I was like NO WAY! She totally read my mind! We were thinking of the SAME thing! The link even had some baby blankets and decorations I'd already found. It's super awesome to see how in-tune Tina has been with us.

OH! one more thing... Last week Tina texted me that she ate pizza and the baby started kicking like crazy! Yay! Baby likes Pizza!!! It's definitely a Dominguez!!!

Here's a look at the video from the 20 week scan. ...by the way, if you have a good eye for telling if a baby is a boy or a girl... keep it to yourself please! It had been almost 2 months since we'd seen baby (we had been used to every 2 weeks...) so when you see this, baby is HUGE! Size of a banana here. No longer just a tiny blueberry....

 
Anatomy scan from Erika Perales on Vimeo.
(You can watch a few other Baby Perales videos from our blog here.)

#TBT  Grain of rice status! 6wk heartbeat!
(You can watch a few more Baby Perales videos from our blog here, too.)

"Baby, it was so amazing getting to hear your heartbeat again! It had been way too long since we'd seen you. I can't believe how much you've grown! But the days are going by more quickly now! And soon we'll get to meet you, face to face! Thank you for praying for Papa! It's working!" 
---excerpt from a letter to our baby

Here we go...

Erika:

We woke up early on Friday and got our Transfer Tattoos on.

I found these at a cute little store named Hello Friend. It's an adorable shop
and when I saw these... I knew I had to buy them!

We met Tina at our acupuncturist's office and then were off to the clinic! We were pumped! (Side note... the nurse almost left one of the needles in Tina's ear! Thank goodness she noticed!) When we got to the clinic we gave them some pumpkin bars that were DELICIOUS. The office has been so helpful and patient dealing with us, that we try to bring them goodies when we can. We filled out some paperwork and were sent down the hall to meet with the doctor and check out our baby blast.

OF COURSE we had to stop and take a selfie!

And here is our little baby. A little bitty Baby Blastocyst already loved.

I have to say... our doctor was absolutely HILARIOUS on this particular day. He was in such a great mood, seemed excited, and was even telling jokes about some of the tools... "And this was made by a man...." We were all cracking up in there. He was just being so great the entire time and the mood in the room was great. The doctor was pointing things out on the screen, which he hadn't really done before, and we all felt like we were really understanding the whole process even better. And our nurse described this moment on the screen like a shooting star.... Just watch.

TransferVideowords from Erika Perales on Vimeo.

And this time, by the way, we were back in the room where I'd had my retrieval done. Remember that closet with the window? ...We'd come full circle.

One thing I forgot to mention about the ride to the clinic... right after I had posted a picture of my awesome fake tattoo, a really awesome friend of mine posted this on social media. She sent this prayer out into the world for us and suddenly all the prayers multiplied. When we got home later that day, it was so uplifting to see the words of encouragement her friends had for us, total strangers. But their hearts were genuine and their prayers were definitely felt.
Thank you so, so much.

Instant tears.

Our transfer day ended with this arriving in the mail... a baby catalog from Target with a gift card on the back in case we want to register.... OH! And not ONLY this. The next day a package came in the mail. It was meant for the people who used to live here.... It was baby formula. No joke.

...Did you catch what the doctor said, right after he transferred? I hadn't until just now.

And the very next day I sent Tina a clip from "Friends"... actually, several clips. But the one I had stuck in my head, for about a week, was of Phoebe's transfer day. She's laying upside-down on the couch with her guitar and singing a song (which I told Tina to feel free to sing outloud to her belly). 

"Are you in there Little Fetus

In nine months will you come greet us?

...I will... buy you some Adidas!"

"At some point, fairly early on, someone asked me how we were feeling.... Well, with our emotions and expectations all over the place, I can only describe this time as both scary and exciting... basically, like being on a roller coaster."

---excerpt from a letter to our baby

Happy Birthday Tina! 

Thank you for riding this roller coaster with us!

Oh, the Possibilities...

Erika: 

Transfer Day-
This one is a tough one to write. I wanted to describe the feelings and all the moments of the day. But when looking back, even now, a week later... I am still overwhelmed with a HUGE sense of gratitude.  As I'm typing this, I'm trying not to cry.

The night before I couldn't even sleep. I stayed up putting Tina's gift basket together. 

In her gift basket I put a ton of things that would help her out during bedrest, like slippers, breakfast in bed tickets to give her hubby, and chocolates. I also gave her some coconut water and pomegranate juice, which we'd read were good for implantation. It was pretty awesome that we were both looking into stuff that week and texting each other with different things we'd found. I also put a grown-up coloring book (that I'm sure the kids have used by now) along with some cool colored pencils to help her pass the time.

Let me also say, I am not superstitious. But I am super-fun. Green is said to be a fertility color and so I found the perfect shade of nail polish that we could both wear called First Timer. Pretty perfect. I gave it to her a couple of days before the transfer at our counseling appointment.

Me, at 6AM that morning,
filled with excitement, gratitude, butterflies and hope.

I woke up the day of Transfer before my alarm went off.  I think we all did. As I got ready for the day, and was feeling all the feelings… I got this text message….

We went to go pick her up and take her to her very first acupuncture appointment. Funny story... I had described mine and how they used like 4 needles and then attached me to a machine, and how it felt like Pop Rocks. Well, for her they didn't use the machine, which I think is a plus. However, it wasn't just 4 needles. She said she had needles from head to toe! That was totally unexpected, but she's a trooper and said she couldn't even really feel them.

From there we went to the clinic. They took us all to the office where I'd had my retrieval done. It was actually just a few doors down. (lol... no elevator needed.) We waited for a while, and during that wait, we took our very first selfie together. The three of us. In this together.

Luis:

I try not to get too excited or anxious about many things as I have gotten older. The butterfly feeling in your stomach and the worries that go through your mind about all the possible things that can happen. Avoiding this has helped me be calm and think things through, be more rational and less reactionary. I suppose it's my own defense mechanism against getting hurt. I went into transfer day thinking I would be able to keep this up. I was wrong.

When we arrived we were placed in the waiting room that I had been in but not Tina and Erika. Two months had passed since the last time I had been in this room. I was there by myself waiting for Erika to wake from her egg retrieval.  True to myself, I tried to keep my mind occupied with positive things while keeping conversations light hearted. The doctor called us into his office after waiting 15 minutes or so and showed us a profile on the blastocyst they were going to transfer. Erika took a few pictures, and he asked if we had any questions or concerns. We all drew blanks on questions. My mind was moving in slow motion and the meeting at the speed of light. I felt like a baby trying to learn how to speak. My mind had failed me. All of this rational thinking and keeping calm went right out the window as soon as I saw this photo. It looked like a catscan of a brain, but inside I knew this was our future. A baby that could change our lives. It was the first visual evidence of Erika and I being one. Something from each of us. A part of us.

We were mesmerized... while also trying to figure out what was what, and really just in awe that this little bundle of cells was something Luis and I made. It was a perfect part of him and a perfect part of me. Luis said it looked like a Dominguez, but I see some Meza in there for sure. 

Not long after this meeting we were placed in a tiny room, smaller than the room I was in for my retrieval. It was lit by just one small lamp on a table and soft classical music playing in the background. We tried to arrange ourselves in the room like Tetris champs so that Erika could take video of the transfer from the screen. I stood against the wall and really tried to think positive. I usually don't like complete silence. When things are silent it usually means you're waiting passively for something to happen instead of trying to tackle it yourself.

My mind was in full action as we were physically limited waiting for the doctor. Here in front of Erika and I was someone who has taken a step of courage and love for us without really knowing us. I suppose in life we have friends who we hang out with, call upon every now and then, get together at social events. We also have close friends, people who we have purposefully placed our time and energy into building life long relationships. These close friends are those who really know you and are there to support you on this journey of life. Then we have family. For me growing up in a large Mexican family I would meet new cousins, aunts, uncles all of the time. I was raised to understand that even though I might have just met a family member, I loved them unconditionally. They were blood. We had a connection that went beyond our lives. We at some point shared a common past. Family gives without asking in return. Family offers without question. I remember feeling this sense of family about Tina as we were crammed in that room. I saw her as a family member I'd never met. Someone who I had not shared stories with or knew every little thing about. But someone who I would love as family. Right here in this little room, this was the beginning of our common past. Perhaps years from now I hope our children will know Tina's children as family too.

My position in that room did not allow me to see much of what was going on from the screen. The doctors spoke very softly and their eyes were glued to the black and white monitor. The silence made me fearful of making any noise or causing any disturbance. I thought about what would happen if my phone went off or if my breathing was too loud. I did not get to see Erika or Tina's reactions through out the process. However the three doctors faces were exactly like a T.V show or movie where humans have just landed on a new planet. Any movement on the radar caused an immediate twitch in their eyes to refocus. It was a bit too much for me. I have not been that serious about anything in a long time. I forgot how intense things can get.

Erika:

Picture this: Luis and I crammed in a corner of a room (not much larger, but definitely nicer than my retrieval room) behind Tina. Me, placing part of my foot to the side of Luis’ leg, balancing on the other foot in order to capture the screen with my camera, while not trying to be in her way either. Luckily, I do yoga, so that helped me hold my balance. Before the doctor arrived, we’d been waiting quite a while. We spent the time talking, laughing and trying to figure out what the best angle would be for me and how many other people might also be in the room for this.

We’d been waiting in the room for a while still and I think the longer they

made us wait, the more antsy we all got. At one point, Luis asked, “…What are some signs that you’re gonna pass out?” Tina and I started giggling and asked if he thought he was going to. He said no, but I made sure to keep an eye on him. 

The craziest part of the day… well, there were two. But the first one was when the lady came back with the baby blast on a straw. I know she’s a trained professional, but she’s carrying literally the most precious thing in our lives in her hands… in a straw. (Notice how shaky and blurry the video is... nervous much?)

The other crazy part of the day you can’t really see. It looks like static on a TV and we honestly had no idea where to look. But watch and listen to the doctor as he let’s go. "One, two, three...." I get chills just thinking about it!

The thing you didn’t get to hear, was the largest exhale I’d ever heard. I think Luis must have been holding his breath the entire time. 

Keepin' the toes nice and warm.

When it was over, they asked Tina to stay laying down for the next 30 minutes. I rolled over the doctor’s stool and Luis now had room to sit. In hindsight, we probably could have given her this half an hour to process it all on her own. It didn’t even occur to us at the time. We just wanted to stay with her as a sense of support. I think Tina said something about not wanting to laugh. So we tried to stay mellow and speak softly. But then Luis said something, out of nowhere, about siamese twins, like from Lady and the Tramp. And that made Tina laugh super hard. And you could tell she didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help bouncing from the giggles. It totally lightened the room. You can always count on Luis for comedic relief. The nurse came in a few minutes later, assured us that the baby could not be laughed out and that basically it was nice and safe in there, like a little jelly sandwich. She then went to grab a wheelchair to escort her out and Luis went to get the car.

It was honestly all a bit surreal and I don’t think I really knew how to process it. We laughed and talked a lot that morning. But I didn’t really get super emotional at any point during or right after the transfer, and that’s weird for me. I was just trying to take it all in. But as real as I knew it all was… I still felt a bit removed. I felt like maybe the true possibility of it all hadn’t yet sunk in.

In the elevator on the way out, a mother and her son stood near the buttons. He was about 3, with curly blonde hair, and wearing a bright green t-shirt. We had a few stops on our way down and the little boy kept looking up at the numbers, asking his mom if we were on the right floor yet. 

The mother overheard us all (me, Tina, and our caseworker who arrived later) talking about the transfer on the way down. When we got to the first floor she looked over and said, “If that was a Dr. Lin transfer… he is a Dr. Lin success.”

And just like that, it was real. That little boy represented all the potential that was being held in that beautiful bundle of cells. And suddenly, I felt it all.

From the book I bought her with quotes on gratitude.
This was the back part of the dust jacket.

“Having gone through all of this, we really have developed a huge understanding of how you grew to be. We now know all of the complexities of life and how you were formed. We are also able to see how much love and how many possibilities are held in something so small. A true bundle of joy.”
---expert from a letter to our baby

And afterwards we celebrated with Big Hero 6
and (even though I usually avoid fast-food like the plague...)
we got some traditional transfer Mickey D's fries.