transfers & tattoos

It still blows my mind that Florencia is doing all this. And to add to the fact that we've done all this independently this time around is pretty empowering. From the early stages of planning, appointments, looking through contracts, discussing possibilities on the couch... we've come so far. And her giddiness has been contagious. 

Pictured above: Our first appointment at the clinic in the winter, the boys discussing non-baby stuff, Florencia and Alan checking off boxes, Florencia jokingly putting chocolates into the contract, and another late night at the house making plans and discussing possibilities.

Though we were on quite a roll, we'd decided to take a pause for the last four months, waiting for more clarity from our clinic and a general peace about a timeline. 

Over time, and after conversations with the doctor and each other, we all slowly began to feel good about the possibility and decided on a date. Also, we speak in mostly gifs.

Leading up to transfer there was so much to prep for. Florencia would soon be starting the med protocol and I began putting together a care package for her. Though I know it's not expected, putting stuff like this together is fun for me and I feel a little more productive when it comes to the process. 

Opening the prep package.

The intention of the care package is to help ease the experience for her in any way we can. To be honest, it was mostly bandaids, that were more just cute than practical. I remember Tina had said that the heating pad helped, so I found a lavender scented one that she would use to ease injection spots.   

             

A few days before transfer, and after some research, Florencia took the initiative of buying a pineapple. They say the bromelain in the core helps make baby stick. Not sure about the science, but it's something we did before. So, it couldn't hurt!

Generosity and adoration from a close friend provided this "last meal" the night before transfer.

Once the prep was underway, transfer day arrived. One difference this time around, is they limited the number of people in the room. To be fair, it's a tiny room, so I totally understand. I really don't even know how we managed last time. Luis and I decided I would be the one to go with. I picked her up that morning and gave her some "lucky" green nail polish to put on. It was cute and she put it on with a steady hand in the car.

 

I also gave her a temporary tattoo.

 

You may remember this tattoo from Mateo's transfer. I happened to have one more left, so I set it aside a few months ago for this very day. Florencia admitted it'd been a few years since she'd worn a fake tattoo. While I drove, she used a baby wipe to adhere it to her arm. After about a minute or two she lifted her hand from her arm to reveal the words, but instead immediately threw her head into her hands and let out a loud groan. She'd forgotten to remove the plastic protector from the tattoo and permanently adhered it to the clear sheet! We both burst into laughter, and after a few minutes, she said, "Don't worry. We only need one ONE transfer to work today."

         

That pretty much set the tone for the rest of the day, which was filled with laughter. 

From the elevator ride, to the transfer room... non-stop giggles. 

It all happened quickly. Once we got into the tiny little transfer room, Florencia slipped on her green shamrock socks, and within a few short minutes, our RE arrived and was ready to go. She was accompanied by two nurses. I crammed myself into the back corner behind her head, trying to get a good look at the screen. 

As the doctor prepared for the transfer, the giggles set in. Hard. If you've ever had an ultrasound, you know they ask you to drink a lot of water beforehand, so all this laughing did not help that situation. I tried to shield my laughter, but she could see me convulsing in the corner, trying to keep it in. We even made one of the nurses giggle. At one point the RE said, "Wow. I've never had this much laughter during a transfer... It's good though. It gets rid of all the stress hormones and brings out all the happy ones."

Right before the transfer, the doctor made sure to point out exactly where we should be looking on the screen. Suddenly the door opened and there was the magic straw, the one I remember once held the tiniest speck of dust that would be Mateo. So many possibilities in that straw. Then all at once --poof. It happened. 

                                                        

Beautiful blastocyst and a “beautiful” transfer.

Click here to see the video of the moment!

Our eyes widened. The giggles stopped. Yeah, that just happened. All these moments of talking, planning, and prepping and it suddenly all got REAL. That baby bundle of cells was on its way to make itself nice and comfy for the next several months. 

Our doctor assured us that though rest is important, bedrest wasn't totally necessary. She said it was more crucial to avoid stress and simply be happy. So that's what we did. We stayed in the room for about the next 30 minutes, talking and hanging out and we actually thought they'd forgotten about us. But soon they came by to roll her out and we were on our way. We stopped to pick up some MacDonald's fries (as is tradition) and when we got back to our place, Luis had prepared a Dutch Baby (Florencia's favorite breakfast) 

and then we gave her a giant care package.

This was the plan we'd made back in the winter.
                                           

                       

      

Transfer essentials: jumbo tote bag, coloring book, colored pencils, Brownie Brittle, Pom juice, Power Berries, another pineapple (more so for symbolism), the transfer tattoo, Honey & Butter macrons, Essie nail polish, Amborella lollipop (you can plant the stick in the ground and it will grow flowers or herbs), a hand-made card my students designed to raise money for providing masks to frontline workers, a pack of seeds to grow some flowers, and a couple of pregnancy tests, in case she felt antsy. 

We continued the day relaxing and laughing, watching Baby Mama and Friends 

("The One with the Embryos"), keeping the happy hormones going. 

The plus side to the tattoo fiasco is I'll be able to permanently keep this temporary tattoo in the baby book.

Since then, we've honestly just been waiting & hoping & praying.  

We'll have another update soon.

Right now we're just trying to let the possibility and the hope settle in.

"Dear baby, 

This is our first letter to you, and we are in awe all over again. The prayers of hope that we breathe each day are for you."  

---excerpt from a letter to our new baby

Let's go back

If you haven't had a chance 

to read my last blog post from earlier this month,
I'd start with "What Hope Looks Like" 
before reading this post.

Erika:

 

When I first met Florencia it was 2006. 

I believe it was at one of Luis' work parties. 

They'd just started working at the same school that year 

(it was their first teaching job and they've both been there for the last 14 years). 

We were all engaged at the time and had weddings coming up in 2007. 

Needless to say we became instant friends.

Pre-baby hikes we'd take with the hubbies and puppies.

If my memory serves me, the very first time we'd met, 

Florencia and I bonded right away, 

sharing thoughts about weddings and plans for the future. 

This lead to the most sincere and eager tone in which she asked me, 

"Do you want to have our babies together?!" 

My response, I believe, was something along the lines of, 

"We're on a five year plan. Not sure if you want to wait?" 

At that point no one knew about our situation 

and I'd become really good at deflecting baby talk. 

It would be about 8 years before I'd tell her the reality of my infertility. 

During the first year of marriage, we started an "XBox Widow's Club" 

where we'd get together each week to hang out while our husbands attacked each other via their video games.

During those 8 years we'd gone on many adventures together... 

attended each other's weddings, traveled to Argentina together, went on road trips, 

Vegas trips, and countless gatherings, game nights, and spa dates. 

 

One of our first nights in Argentina in 2009.

 

Solvang trip in 2010. Luis is such a creeper.

In late 2014, Luis and I had started researching options 

and looking more deeply into surrogacy. 

By that point, we were also starting to tell family 

and close friends about our situation. 

The nerves I felt when preparing to explain 

not only my infertility, but surrogacy, and why we'd chosen to hide it for so long, 

were always way more intense and exaggerated than they needed to be. 

I don't know how I expected people to react, but in each case, 

it was always so gentle, understanding, and gracious. 

I will never forget Florencia's reaction.

We were at the spa, some time around 2014, 

enjoying all the amenities and just hanging out in the jacuzzi. 

I mustered the courage and told her I'd been 

keeping something a secret for a while. 

Though I don't remember my exact words, 

I do believe I wasn't even at the end of my story 

when she swam right up to me, having heard all she needed, 

and with a huge grin said something along the lines of, 

"Do you want me to have your baby?"

One of our many spa trips.

 Needless to say, that was a brand new response 

that was completely unexpected 

and I think I simply laughed it off nervously. 

I explained (while absolutely both floored and flattered) 

that we'd already been looking into an agency. 

And really, ultimately, it wasn't the right timing for her, 

as she still had plans for growing her own family 

and also hadn't ever discussed the idea with her husband, Alan. 

Which might be kind of important.

Though I can tell you, I'm pretty sure 

that's exactly what she went home and did that night.

But how much does this say about her heart?

Seriously. 

Without hesitation, her very first inclination 

was to offer me her womb. 

One thing I can say about Florencia, 

without a doubt, is she is passionate about 

everything pregnancy, 

everything birth, 

everything motherhood. 

Not only that but she lives for sharing that passion with others, 

through advocacy, empowerment, and education. 

It's her calling and something I've always admired.

Yup. She is brushing my hair while in labor in 2015. 

She is one of a handful of people I let brush my hair.

Fast forward to December 6, 2019. 

By this point she had three beautiful children.

I'd witnessed and photographed her last two births. 

(Those are stories that I love to tell, but I will save it for another time.)

It was the day after my birthday 

and about 2 weeks after I'd written my first blog entry 

(after a 2 year hiatus), "Time to Talk."

We found ourselves once again, at the spa. 

Us in the lobby that day, not wanting to leave.

As usual, we'd spent time wandering through 

from sauna to steam room, to jacuzzi to quiet room. 

Though usually the quiet room doesn't stay very quiet. 

After our massages, we decided to hang out in the waiting area, 

where we could be a little louder while sipping tea and eating free grapes. 

That's when things got real.

She brought up that she'd just read the latest blog update 

and started asking me questions.

This is vaguely what I remember. 

Keep in mind, I may have blacked out at some point, 

so I'm not quite sure how accurate this is. 

Maybe I'll have Florencia chime in in the next post. 

Flor: "So, have you started thinking about when you'd like to get started?"

Me: "Not really. We need to do more research on the different options. 

But I guess ideally some time in the next year or so."

Flor: "And do you have anyone in mind?"

Me: "Well, not really. It depends which way we'd like to go. 

We need to decide if we want to go with an agency or go indy 

or pursue other alternatives. But we really aren't sure. 

Just starting to do that research."

I think these questions went on for a while before 

she finally just got down to it and said something like, 

"Well, I could have your baby...."

This is basically the point in the conversation 

where I curl up into a ball, wrapped up in my spa robe and hair, 

and repeatedly say, "Wh a a a a a a a a a a a t?" 

Like non-stop. 

For the next, oh I don't know, 3 and a half hours.

What made it more real is that this time, 

unlike the first time she'd made the offer, 

she'd already done her research.

She knew what meds, shots, and procedures it would require.

She had a rough timeline of how long it would take to prepare. 

She even knew the lingo like GS, RE, and IP. 

She said that she and Alan had already discussed it 

and even though they still had some lingering questions, 

they were pretty much on board 

if we decided to accept this incredibly selfless and gracious offer.

Meanwhile, still in a ball on the couch, I basically remained speechless.

Just two weeks prior, everything was still unknown. 

I basically knew nothing, except that we wanted to start thinking about what to do. 

Suddenly a door had been opened that we didn't know was there 

and we had the possibility of an actual path we could follow. 

Wh a a a a a a a a a a a t???

After the spa, we went to BJ's, where I just remained speechless some more. 

We enjoyed a birthday pizookie.

In shock the entire time.

Making wishes even though

one had just come true.

Then we realized we'd have to figure out how to tell Luis. 

We had no idea how he would feel about it.

They'd been co-workers and friends for so long 

and we weren't sure if he'd welcome the idea 

or be freaked out by it.

To be honest, I didn't know how to feel about it. 

My emotions were a big jumble of mush 

and I could barely process what had happened.

Texting later that night. Still processing.

The next morning I decided to have Mateo deliver the news. 

It was a simple message.

"Florencia wants you to use her oven."

This is Mateo on a mission. 

Trying to relay the very important message.

Luis had no clue. I had Mateo do this several times before he got it.

I'll let him take it from here.

Luis:

Somewhere in this blog I think I mention that I don't believe in coincidences. 

I've always tried to look at the big picture and not dwell on the small stuff. 

I think it has been my way of going with the flow 

and not thinking I have control of what life has thrown at me. 

For the last 14 years, I have come to know Florencia as co-worker and friend. 

We have traveled, seen her and Alan raise a family, 

heck my mom even took care of their first born for a year (grandkid practice). 

She often mentions that her husband, Alan, and I were made from the same cloth.

In Oregon in 2016. 

CSULB grads, social studies majors, up for adventures 

and one of the easiest people to have  a conversation about anything with. 

Our friendship, just like many things, almost did not happen. 

I was not offered a position to teach at our jr. high until 2 weeks before the start of school. 

It was my last interview and I was ready to accept an offer to work in Riverside 

as a English/Spanish liaison. Yeah. That Luis is living a completely different life.

The four of us in Mendoza in 2009.

 I give you a little bit of context and history because NEVER did it cross my mind 

that this relationship that my wife and I bloomed 

with Florencia and Alan would put us were we are today. 

At one of their first appointments during the clearing process in early February.

Having gone through the process of surrogacy with Mateo, 

I knew the struggles, challenges and effort it can take 

to give a year of our lives for another family. 

Yes, it takes the whole family to commit to something like this (Shout-out to the Lomeli's). 

So when I finally deciphered the message Mateo was sent to give me, I hesitated.

Not about whether they could do it or not, but out of concern for Florencia, her well-being, her family and our friendship. I worried if it would be awkward at work, what others would think and in particular if it would change the dynamic of friendship. Would I treat her different? Could I still make fun of things she does? What would our relationship be after baby is born. I think I started to sweat the small stuff for a bit. But in the bigger picture...

I wasn't sure if I was ready to receive their gift of grace to us.

This was the night we all got together to discuss.

We do not deserve this kind of generosity. An offer of love that goes beyond friendship.

It is a lesson that we work to instill in Mateo and one that we work to do ourselves. 

When we have friends that lift you up and give unconditionally

it gives everyone else a little hope and encouragement to also give. 

During one of our FaceTime calls this spring.

We are in the early stages of the whole process

and there is much more to this story that has yet to be written, 

however what I know so far is that the journey of the Sheperales has lead us to be family. 

So, yeah, I think we have some baking to do. 

Florencia,

Months later and I still

have no words,

except for the infinite

"thank you"

for your mothering heart

and the desire

that's been placed there

to help us grow our family.

Ready for a new adventure.

Love you forever boof.

Eating the best rice crispy treats ever at Mateo's shower in 2016.

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.