As I sit here staring at my pregnant belly, I’m contemplating the reasons why I would tell this story. It’s not only mine to tell. The truth is that I’m only playing a part in the miracle that is unfolding. The journey I am on is entwined with that of another person whom I love deeply – my sister Valerie.
As a kid, one thing my sister always knew with absolute certainty was that she wanted to be a mom. She’s always had the heart of a mom. I understand that drive toward motherhood. I was the same. Neither of us could have imagined that having children would turn out to be a struggle. Infertility is not something on your mind when you are busy saying “I do” and planning a future complete with a family. I think most people naturally assume that it will happen in due time, if not on command. It’s simply not that, well, simple.
I was married in 1999 with no immediate plans to try and have children. We knew eventually we would have a family and were in no hurry. It turned out that God had other plans and we were pregnant six weeks later. I was stunned to be pregnant considering my historical lack of ovulation. In fact, I hadn’t had a period for seven months prior to becoming pregnant. It was definitely meant to be.
When our son was born, we knew we didn’t want to become pregnant again until after I finished college. Fast forward 2.5 years – I graduated, we moved half-way around the world, then began trying to conceive. Year after heart-breaking year we waited. It was agonizing, especially seeing friends around me becoming pregnant. I was sad, frustrated, envious, and confused about why we were having such a hard time having a second child. We wanted desperately for our son to have a sibling as well. After more than five years of infertility we finally decided to see a specialist. Until then I’d never heard of secondary infertility. Since I wasn’t ovulating at all, and hadn’t cycled in roughly nine months, the doctor recommended we use the fertility drug Clomid. After one cycle on Clomid, I became pregnant. We were elated that we’d conceived so quickly. Unfortunately, our joy lasted only three months before I learned I’d had a “missed miscarriage.” One day the baby was there with a heartbeat, arms, and legs. A week or so later, the heart had stopped and the arms and legs had already begun to disintegrate. I was devastated! I eventually had to undergo surgery to remove what my body would not miscarry on its own. I knew at the time that there was a reason for my loss, horrific as it was, and I was determined to find a positive.
One year later, my husband and I decided to try one last time to conceive. We would use one more cycle of Clomid and prepared ourselves to except the results, no matter what they were. It was our last hurrah. Once again, using one dose of Clomid, we conceived. At seven weeks we learned we were having twins! I was able to carry nearly to full-term two beautiful, healthy babies – a boy and a girl. My children were nearly ten years apart. They are miracles to me considering my history.
During all the time I was having fertility issues my sister was having a fertility crisis of her own. Unlike me, she has always been able to naturally mark her cycles on a calendar. She could tell you nearly within hours when she would start her period. I thought she was tremendously blessed in that regard. Unfortunately, though she was able to conceive with no assistance, she had recurrent miscarriages. Around the time she had her 6th or 7th miscarriage, I made a comment to her that if it came down to it that I would carry a baby for her. I know for certain that she would do the same for me. That first conversation was sometime around 2007. She thanked me, but quickly dismissed it as a possibility. As she continued having one miscarriage after another, she gradually began to think that perhaps she would never be able to carry a baby to full-term. Sometime around her tenth loss, she and my brother-in-law began to think seriously about my offer. Perhaps surrogacy might be their only chance to have children.
After delivering my own twins, moving again half-way around the world, and undergoing a double mastectomy and reconstruction, we decided to pursue IVF using my sister’s egg and her husband’s sperm. We were incredibly blessed to become pregnant on the first attempt. Now at 13+ weeks, I stare at my pregnant belly thinking about what we’ve done and what’s to come. People ask me if it was a difficult decision to make, being a surrogate for my sister. They wonder aloud if I will have a hard time giving the baby to my sister and brother-in-law. Some have put me on a pedestal for doing this for my sister. All I can say to these things is that it would have been infinitely more painful to watch my sister miss out on motherhood – to see the loss in her eyes as she plays with my children would be heart-wrenching for me. The day we deliver will be a day full of emotion. I have to say though that this is something Valerie and I are doing for each other. She is giving me just as great of a gift. She is allowing me to be an aunt for the first time, to give my children a cousin to walk through their lives with them. She’s also giving my own infertility struggles and miscarriage meaning. I truly believe I went through these things in order to prepare my heart for the moment my sister would need me…to relate to her…to grieve with her…and ultimately, to play a role in making her the mom she was always meant to be.
A large number of people have told me they've contemplated being a surrogate. The thought honestly never crossed my mind until my sister had this need. Now that we're walking this path together I can't imagine not being here with her. It's been an amazing experience that's brought new closeness to already tight relationships between my sister, brother-in-law, me, and my husband. We are all excited about what the future holds and looking forward to someday in August when we can count ten fingers and ten toes!
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