I knew this post was coming. In all reality, I thought it was going to come much sooner.
If you are at all familiar with my personal story, you know I lead a very busy life. Five children. One in college, one heading to college this summer, one getting ready to drive, one busy year-round with sports, and one just learning to walk and talk. I also work full time. And go to school full time. And run a household.
So while I am elated to be a part of the world of embryo adoption as a donor mother, it is not something that I have a tremendous amount of time to spend thinking about. To be honest, while I think of my snow sister on a regular basis, I often just think of her as a dear friend expecting a baby later this summer. Which she is. But I don't much dwell on the fact that my fiance and I directly contributed to the actual child she is carrying. This baby belongs to her and her husband.
However, in an effort to be completely honest both with myself as well as with anyone else who may be contemplating this choice, I will admit that last week I had my first "moment". It hit me like a wave, and passed almost as quickly, but there it was. I was sad.
We are so incredibly blessed to have a wonderfully amazing open relationship with our "extended family". We receive updates, see ultrasound pics, and celebrate each and every milestone. Last Monday, they discovered they were expecting a boy. A son.
As you know from my history, I had four children prior to meeting my fiance. Three daughters and one son. What can I say? My cup runneth over. When we were at the final stage of our IVF journey, and the day arrived for our embryo transfer, we were told we had seven total embryos that had made it to the blastocyst stage, two of which were the "strongest" of the bunch. If I remember correctly, "F" and "G". One of those turned out to be our beautiful daughter. The other, I can safely assume, is their son.
I remember feeling a tremendous sense of pressure the day we went for our ultrasound that would reveal our baby's gender. Pressure put on from noone but myself. Knowing this was going to be our only child, I felt my fiance would be thrilled with a son. Not that he wouldn't adore a little girl, but just the same, I couldn't shake the notion that he was hoping for a boy.
I will never forget the look on his face as he watched his daughter being born. Will never forget the love in his eyes, in his smile, the first time he held her. There was no doubt that this was indeed God's plan. She was perfect. Our family was perfect.
Daddy with his princess. Love at first sight.
Yet there it was. A moment of sadness. A tugging at my heart that I couldn't deny, and didn't feel as though I should. I felt it. I experienced it. I lived it. And then? It was gone. Replaced by joy and peace, knowing how much this little boy is already loved. Knowing how elated his parents are to meet him. Knowing he is with his forever family.
I can't wait to see pictures. Can't wait to see his proud mama and daddy showing him off to anyone who will give them a moment's pause. And I expect there may be more tugs and pulls to come. But I'm ready for them. I knew going into this process there would be bumps in the road. And every one of them is well worth it.
There's no denying this is the path I was meant to take. Destined.
I love my life. I love my family.
And I celebrate another family in the making. What a very lucky little boy indeed.