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

...The Wait....

Erika: 

So, we pretty much just tried to keep ourselves busy between the Friday of Transfer and the first Beta test which would be ten days later. Basically at this first test, they would be checking for a rise in HCG levels, which in simple terms would indicate that our little baby blast was getting nice and comfy.

One question people asked us during those first two weeks was if we were going to have Tina take a pregnancy test before our HCG appointment. Many people like to test, but we knew that they wouldn't necessarily be super reliable and could even contrast with the results at the doctor's appointment. We went back and forth about this for a while, but ultimately we decided not to test. Although, admittedly, I'd thought about changing my mind several times especially at the 7dp5dt mark (7 days post 5 day transfer). But we held strong. We'd just have 3 more days to wait. We were fine if she'd decided to take it anyway, but we just didn't want to know one way or the other.

Going into this, we understood that there are a ton of variables at play. So while hope was leading us forward, we knew that ultimately it's all out of our control. At moments during this waiting period, when I would feel anxious or even worried, the whole idea of taking this one breath at a time really helped. Breathe in faith... breathe out fear. I'd also come back to the basic fact that it is not about if, but when. Tina reminded us of that on the day of transfer and I am super grateful for that.

The day we got the results (10dp5dt) we had spent all day at Tina's new home with her family. She'd gone in for bloodwork that morning and we brought over some amazing Tony's Chicago-style Pizza that a friend had introduced us to a couple of weeks back. It was a great meal. Luis sat with her husband talking UFC and watching "Bizarre Foods." I played with the kids for a bit and we all had a good time relaxing. Well, for the most part. Each time the phone would ring, buzz, or beep Tina and I would jump up and run in a quick circle looking to see who's phone it was. During the whole time we were there, we didn't get a call.

Eventually we decided to go and we said our goodbyes and gave some hopeful hugs. Not more than 5 minutes into our drive home, my phone rang. Luis was driving. I picked up....

I hung up the phone and Luis had been watching me, reading the result on my face. I simply shook my head softly, and calmly said, "Nope. ...It didn't work." And suddenly my voice cracked. I couldn't explain much more.

Honestly, I did not anticipate crying in that moment. The nurse told me the results, I listened, said it in my head, and then the second I said it out loud to Luis, I broke. I kept saying, "I don't know why I'm crying... I knew it wasn't a guarantee... I don't know why I'm crying...."

For the technical piece, basically the level of HCG was extremely low and only indicated that it may have started to implant, but that for some reason just didn't continue to grow. Still much too early for a heartbeat or even a sack to form, we still had to say goodbye to the possibility that we had seen in that first little baby blast. Letting go of that was hard. It is difficult to describe because it's a loss we'd never come even close to experiencing before. We 100% knew and intellectually understood that it could go either way, but it was still hard to hear and accept.

My emotions went like this:
Monday... sad and distracted.  Tuesday... frustrated and overthinking. Wednesday... positive and hopeful again... Thursday... sad. ....It pretty much continued that way for the next couple of weeks.

We sent Tina a message right away and let her know that we were thinking of her, and that we were still full of all of the same hope and gratitude.

People have questioned our choice to be so open and public about our situation during this stage of it all, especially because it can be such a rollercoaster. But the close friends and family we have told have been so loving, so thoughtful, so curious, so encouraging. Someone apologized for asking for an update, but I actually love that people ask. It's so good to know there are so many people praying for our family and willing it into existence. It's much better to talk about it than keep it in. And although we did need time to process it all on our own and it did take a while to finally write this post, I have loved getting messages from all of you. Please don't stop. It really helps. In all of this, everything is up in the air all of the time, nothing concrete... so many variables. But we keep breathing, focused on the one constant that remains in all of this, Hope.

Luis: 

It was on our drive home that we got the call about the beta test. I suppose that there is no "right time" to get a phone call like this. As Erika nodded her head over the phone I could tell it was not what we had hoped. She teared up and expressed to me her feelings. I dealt with mine kinda fast and focused on making sure Erika was going to be okay. I like that about us. I like comforting her. She does rely on me for positive thinking, which helps both of us.

I was born in Mexico. As an immigrant, my life experience was a bit different than most around me. This was especially true as I graduated high school. Most of my friends got jobs and started to make a living for themselves. As for someone who waited for the "legal" way of become a citizen like me, I did not have those options. If I wanted to work it would have to be manual labor and under the table. If I wanted to continue my education it would have to be at a community college since I would have to pay "out of state" tuition ($$$$) and would need to take the bus. This was a key part of my life. It was a situation that was out of my control and a time when my faith was tested and I was being asked to wait.

I would spend an hour each way to OCC on the bus. It was time spent alone with my thoughts. This was both good and bad. I could do my homework and listen to music. But eventually my inner demons would pop up. The one that I struggled with the most was "fairness." Going through adolescence I saw my peers and I as equals, growing up with the same opportunities and the same choices. Suddenly, this was no longer the case.

I struggled a lot with the idea of not having the same opportunities as others. I questioned God about this over and over. Why did I have to get up extra early and waste 2 hours of my day on a bus? Why did I have to spend my weekends lifting, loading and unloading merchandise from a truck at the swap meet, all for $5 an hour. I began to feel resentful. I blamed God for most of it.

It was during this time that I realized my faith would not "protect" me from the real world, and it wasn't meant to. At the time it took a lot of praying, patience, and even tears to make me realize that. Erika might say that I became a bit more guarded during this time. And although that is true, I also became someone who was able to let go of what's not in my control. I have to just be me, and trust God. I finally realized that my life was exactly as it should be, "fair" or not. What happens, happens. I basically decided to use those opportunities as a chance to grow.

I write this long story, to fully express how sad I am not to be a father. Not yet at least. When the Beta test came back negative, I had to force myself to remember what God had taught me years ago about fairness. It does not exist. Trust him and let growth happen. Remember to be a man who is positive, be a man who sees opportunities, be a man who is patient, be a man who works for what he wants and especially be a man who's faith does not wavier because of what is thrown at him. When I start to ask the "whys" I stop and start looking at my blessings. My job, friends, home, wife, family... a limitless list. Our situation with growing our family might not seem fair, but there is still a lot to be thankful for.

This is all deep stuff for me. But this is how I feel about things that happen.
Be me and trust God.

"I hope you grow up to be a person filled with hope in all that you do. Life will not always be easy or seem fair, but your life alone is reason enough to believe that Love, hope, and persistence can make anything possible." 
---excerpt from a letter to our baby

We went on a long hike a couple of weeks later....
Almost 3,000ft up in some high heat.

Thankfully there were some areas of shade to rest.

The view in the end made it all worthwhile.

Moving Right Along

After taking her goodies home,
Tina texted me after noticing what the Hallmark bag said.
"How fitting! All that we are doing to create a little bundle of joy!"

Erika:

For the last month or so, things had been moving along smoothly. The legal contract was almost finalized and we had a tentative date on the calendar for our transfer. Getting through legal wasn't as overwhelming as I'd anticipated, mainly due to our lawyer's unique perspective (except for maybe the size... it was over 60 pages... which we read through 3 times). Not only did she have experience working with Intended Parents and Surrogates, but she was an IP herself, a few years back. We felt comforted by the fact that she knew the ins and outs of this process really well and that put our minds at ease.

Seeing how things were going so well, Tina and I decided to take the kids to the beach. We packed up some snacks, brought tons of beach toys and had a really great day. The kids showed me how to dig a river for their toy boat to move down, the kids threw frisbees, we watched them chase a kite around the beach, and ate SAND-wiches. After that we stopped by their house because her daughter wanted to give me a tour and before I left she said, "Thank you!... For EVERYTHING." I think there was a lot of thankfulness being felt that day. 

A week or two later, the contracts had been reviewed and were ready to be notarized. I know that I am a grown up and should know what that is... but I don't think we'd ever had something notarized. At least I've never had to look for a notary and I didn't really know where to start. We were in a bit of a time crunch in order for our transfer date to stay the same. So, I asked Facebook if I knew anyone who could do it. I got a few responses, but the first person to get back to me was a friend I've known since Kindergarten. I sent her a message at almost midnight and explained briefly what it was for and right away she said she would do it. Problem solved! When we met up the next morning she was so excited for our news.  The notary process itself was super easy and we sent it in to our lawyer right away so that we could get the approval from our clinic. Later that day,  I received a message from my friend. Super sweet.

So now that everything was approved, the next step was to go to the clinic together for Tina's med protocol and get a finalized calendar. I had been thinking about this particular moment for a couple of years now. I'd been reading a blog (Our Misconception, which is my absolute favorite blog and source of inspiration, and helped me during the last couple of years when I started actually facing my infertility) and that's where I got this idea for a care package for Tina. I knew that if one day we got to this point, I would do all that I could to make sure that we could make the experience even just a little bit easier on our surro. We always knew this wasn't going to be an easy road, but I wanted us to help in any way we could. So I started collecting things over the last few months and was even gifted the same hanging organizer by a friend's aunt whom I've known forever. So incredibly nice!!! It was actually the same ThirtyOne Hanging Organizer that my blogger friend used and it was absolutely perfect!!! 

Here's what I included inside: bandaids, socks, a Lady Buzzy, syringes, sharps container, medications, alcohol wipes, dry erase markers, a Cycle Day calendar, See's chocolates, a heating pad for soothing the oil based shots, lavender/shea butter massage oil, Burt's Beez lip balm, prenatals, and two 3M hooks to hang up the organizer.  

Fun bandaids to keep things interesting and to distract from the pain.
It helped me with my injections and would make me less mad about being poked. 
They also serve as markers so you can remember where you did it last. 

Silly socks to keep feet warm during Dr. visits and after acupuncture.

This hilarious llama card and a Lady Buzzy to help relieve and distract from the pain of injections. 

We showed up to the clinic early that morning so we could finish setting it all up. Most of the stuff fit perfectly in here. There were some medications that didn't quite make it (there was a lot) so I put the rest in the Hallmark bag, but this was still perfect because she can hang it up and out of the way, and even use it after her surrogacy journey for other stuff.

I have really enjoyed putting this stuff together for her. It's a fun way to show our gratitude and focus on things I can do help. It keeps me looking forward so that we can keep moving right along. 

Luis:

I was anxious to meet up for this appointment at the clinic, since I had not seen Tina since our initial "interview" almost 3 months before. Erika had started to build up a relationship with her and she would keep me updated and share text conversations with me, but I felt a bit out of the loop in terms of just knowing more about her and the family and her getting to know me and us (Erika and I) together. I was the only guy there along with Erika, Tina, and our agency coordinator. 

My experience in life has taught me that no matter where or who you are with, when there is a group meeting, roles must be determined to get things done. For example, in my own life I've played the organizer, writer, speaker, questioner, transitioner, Debbie Downer, class clown, optimist, etc.... For this meeting, I had to feel my way through the conversations of babies, tattoos, parenthood, life stories to figure out how I was needed and when to chime into a conversation.

The instructions on taking the shots were long and somewhat complicated for a first timer (I wasn't at the demonstration day for Erika's shots and relied on pictures and YouTube videos). I was sitting behind Tina and I could tell by her diligent notes that she wanted to make sure she did everything right. I did my best to ask questions that might clarify possible missteps. It did not help that the nurse giving the directions was having a few issues modeling the injections herself. Our coordinator, who has been a surogate FOUR times showed Tina how to inject herself by using the edge of a table for balance. It was good to have this experienced person in the room to help calm down some of the nerves. 

I believe that if I were Tina, and had been there by myself, without anyone else in the room, I would have had some major second thoughts about this whole thing. I hope she understands and utilizes the support that is there for her. We have told her many times and there are things in place to help her and the family during this  time, and that we are all here for her when she needs it. I had the feeling that this specific meeting was the point of no return for all of us. Not in a "danger! danger!" way, but more like in a reflective "look at all that has happened to get here" type of way.

I learned long ago that life, as much as we try to get our way, is going to play out how it's supposed to. This does not mean don't prepare and pray for the positive, but believe in the bigger picture. As of right now things are still going great. Should I be afraid of that? Should I question how well things are going? I don't know how to answer that, but I figure if WE just stay positive and see the beauty, kindness and generosity of this journey any outcome is a blessing. 

"We really want you to know how many people have been praying for you and have helped out with each little step. SO many people. We get texts and calls from people who are so excited for you and wanting to help play a part in bringing you to us!" 
---excerpt from a letter to our baby

You'll Know When You Know

Erika:

The first thing people always ask after telling them about our baby plan is, "Who's going to carry for you?" For a long time, we didn't know the answer to that question.

Years ago, before we'd decided how we would try to build our family, that was the same question I would ask myself. Regardless of how we were going to proceed, the fact remained that someone else was going to be the one to carry our baby.

Ten years ago... even five years ago, the thought of leaving that responsibility in the hands of someone else was terrifying to think of. How were we going to be able to put all of our faith and trust in another person to take care of our baby for the first nine months of its existence? I had to believe that whoever we decided on was going to be someone that God had been preparing for years before that. I'd asked some people in the groups I'm a part of and they all said the same thing, "You'll know when you know."

During that first year of finding out that I couldn't get pregnant, one thing I did (the only thing I could do) was pray for the person who would eventually bring our child to us, whether through surrogacy or adoption. It's kinda surreal praying for someone you've never met before, but who you know is out there in the world somewhere, living life, and would one day be led into our lives. With surrogacy, we knew that person was going to have to feel called to do it and know in their heart that they were meant to do this.

So, last year, once Luis and I decided on a fertility clinic, we had to decide whether we would be working with an agency or "going indie." For this first time around, we decided working with an agency (although more challenging financially) would help us feel a bit more at ease about everything. They would help us with the matching process, help us maneuver through all of the mounds of paperwork and really make sure all of our bases were covered. It's been comforting to know that we have support from the agency and can go to them with all of our questions.

After deciding on an agency (we'd met with two and decided to go with the one that was local and had experience working with our clinic) the first step was to create a profile. I've never done online dating, but I suppose it's kinda similar to that. Our profile contained responses to several questions regarding our background, personality, expectations before, during and after a pregnancy, a personalized letter describing our story, and a few photos. ...I really have to say that our letter was a perfect blend of the two of us. We took about 30 minutes to each write our own. We let each other read them and then we combined them into one Super Letter that came straight from the heart. We're kinda really proud of it. 

The hardest part was finding flattering pictures to add to our profile. What do you do when all of your favorite photos together include either weird faces or weird costumes? It took a while to sort through, but we found some decent ones. I think we used one from high school, one from our wedding, one from our last trip to Europe, and one where we're awkwardly carrying Poh in our arms... kinda like a baby.

For about a month or so, during this time, we'd been looking through the profiles of potential surrogates. They'd answered similar questions, so we looked through and wrote down which ones seemed to be the best matches. We found four potential profiles. We looked for things like age, birth history, and preferences before, during, and after. None of the four hit every point we were looking for, but we were willing to at least meet with them. The very next day the agency told us that all four were no longer available and had just been interviewed by other intended parents. ...Heart sank.

However, the agency said that there was a new person who had just been cleared (medically and psychologically) and they appeared, at least on paper, to be a better match for us. Her name is Tina. They sent us her profile and, honestly, she really did match better than the others. Her responses on every single point were in line with our own. We read a letter she'd written, as well as a letter from her sister which was really heartfelt. Her sister described her compassion for others and I felt that I was really able to get a sense of who she was. ...My heart felt a bit lighter.

Towards the end of March we set up a meeting/interview.
It's kind of weird to call it an interview, but at the initial meeting we needed to ask all of our big, crucial questions, as well as ones that would give us insight into the type of person she is. We'd compiled a list, like two typed pages, front and back. Some of the questions had already been answered in her profile, but we figured they could serve as conversation starters. Many people in the surrogacy world describe this first meeting as a cross between an interview and a blind date. We knew we had to walk into that meeting, not just ready to ask a million questions, but to go in with an open heart, ready to really listen in order to get a sense of her character, her intentions, and her heart.

The initial, "Nice to meet you's," were the only awkward bits of the whole experience. Once the conversation started, we barely looked down at our list. (Although, that may have been partially due to the fact that I folded mine about 50 times out of nervousness.) The questions we started with naturally led into questions we'd written down and other topics we hadn't even thought of. There was never any awkward silence or weirdness between any of us. We seriously just let the conversation flow.

Another awesome thing was that we got to meet her husband and children. I don't think we were expecting that, but it helped show us that they had really thought this decision through as a family. Her two kids, ages five and three, were absolutely adorable. Every few minutes they would come out from the other room, where they had been playing quietly, and give their mom a hug. The youngest would find decorative sculptures and fruit from around the office and present them to her as a gift. So cute! At one point they were behind us racing on sliding chairs. Having them there really helped lighten the room and make our conversation much more comfortable. Additional topics that came up because of them were favorite Mexican desserts, kindergarten, and the tooth fairy.

Going into the meeting we were actually more concerned with her wants, needs, and expectations.  But she came into it thinking the same about us. At one point she said, "This will be your baby. I want you to experience it the way you would if you were having it yourself. I want you to be at the appointments, feel the baby kick, and be there in the room for the birth."

For me, it was really apparent that she was coming into this with the best intentions. She said that she was hoping that this would serve as an example to her kids as to how meaningful it can be to sacrifice yourself for someone else and what it means to be a blessing in someone's life.

The last question we asked was what she was most looking forward to. They said that after having spoken to other gestational surrogates about their experiences, and asking what really made it all worth it, they both agreed that they were most looking forward to the moment at the very end... "Seeing you hold your baby in your arms for the first time."

And I think that's when we knew.

Leaving the meeting I was actually worried that they would think we were crazy. Like I imagined them walking to their car saying, "Nope! I am not going to carry their weirdo baby."

But that didn't happen. Within days of each other, we'd both contacted the agency saying we'd like to move forward. And now here we are, a few months later and less than a week away from our first transfer day! During these last few months we've all gotten to know each other better and this real sense of trust and friendship has developed. We're excited to be at this point! We completely trust her and know that our lil baby blast is going to be in the best of care.

"We prayed for the person who would take care of you in your beginnings. We prayed that she would be a woman with a heart of kindness, compassion, and integrity. We prayed that she would be gentle and loving in spirit. We hoped that she was a woman of faith who would pray for you and for us and for God's many blessings." 
---excerpt from a letter to our baby