I have always been somewhat superstitious. For as many times as I have knocked over a salt shaker, I have tossed salt over my shoulder. "I don't want to jinx myself" is pretty much standard vocabulary. I'm one to say things like "knock on wood," when I am speaking about something that is going well or "God forbid," if I am talking about a potentially negative situation occurring. "Ptoo ptoo ptoo...spit on me," if you are saying something favorable, to keep the evil away, is probably my all time favorite and very common in the Greek family I grew up in.Read More
Elizabeth and I are excited to welcome a baby boy! Garrison James Garnett was born at 1:10am on Wednesday, June 18th. He weighed in at 8 pounds 13 ounces and measured 21 inches. He arrived late, just like his parents. He is named from the town in New York where we were married. The origin is English and means protection. James is a prominent name in Elizabeth's mother's family and is the Anglicized version of Dimitri in Greek.Read More
The day Stephanie came down for the embryo transfer was a day I will never forget. We woke up that morning and got ready at a leisurely pace. I wanted to take Stephanie for a fancy schmancy breakfast somewhere, like Balthazar, but instead we went to a favorite neighborhood diner of mine and Jeffrey's called Utopia.Read More
Throughout the last 18 years, I have traveled I-95 up to Massachusetts to visit Stephanie countless times. Those 4 hour Peter Pan bus rides never got old, knowing that we were going to have a few days to catch up and spend time together. One time traveling up with the most inconvenient baby shower gift, (to this day I don’t know why I just had to bring a massive baby bathtub), making her father-in-law pick me up at the bus station 40 minutes away in Providence, and only to be back on the bus within a couple of hours. But it was worth it. Stephanie was pregnant with Ethan and it was the one and only time I was seeing her during her pregnancy.
Once she had Ethan and then when Ryan came along two years later, our visits were few and far between. While she was making her own baby food, I was loving being a single 27-year-old in NYC. She would share stories about how Ethan accidentally locked himself in the bathroom and said his first swear word when he did. I would tell stories about how I locked myself in my bedroom when a date over-stayed his visit one night. Yet, somehow, we maintained a connection.
Spending a few days with her last week, and seeing her interact with her family, while carrying our child, was incredible. I have always known and admired what a wonderful wife and mother Stephanie is. I can only hope that she knows this and believes it about herself. She goes about every day as normal, working Monday through Friday as a teacher, and tending to all the duties of a full-time wife and mother on top of that. Never once did she complain that her back was hurting her, although I know that it was or that she was tired because the boys still wake up at 6am every day. She makes it appear like nothing has changed in her life.
Meanwhile, our baby is in that belly and Jeffrey and I couldn’t wait to get our hands on her! Baby G is quite active, it was incredible to see Jeffrey react as he felt our baby kick for the very first time…something I was hoping he would experience before heading back home.
We treated Stephanie (and myself) to a couple’s massage! The massage therapists did not know our story until afterwards when they congratulated Stephanie on the baby and she said “actually it’s hers!” I love surprising people with our news.
And of course hearing our baby’s heartbeat always brings me to tears. I can listen to that sound everyday for the rest of my life.
The distance is part of what allows us to understand boundaries and maintain such a healthy relationship during the pregnancy. But, visits like these make me wish we lived closer.
The drives have always been long, and now they feel even longer! But I would drive 100 hours to spend time with Stephanie and 100 more to be close to our baby.
Sometimes we find ourselves in a place in life where we know we belong. A place we feel proud to be a part of, somewhere that seems to be part of the plan. I can’t say I would’ve ever expected or dreamed I would be here 10 years ago when I was just trying to conceive my first son. Or even five years ago after I had my two sons. Certainly not 18 years ago when Libby and I met at Umass Amherst.
My friendship with Libby is one of the most lasting friendships I have had in my life. Although we have been at very different places at different times in our adulthood, our friendship has been a constant in both our lives. There were times in our early twenties when we talked every single day, visited each other monthly, and shared our funny young adult triumphs and tribulations. There were times later where the life of a busy mom and the life of a young single woman made it difficult to have the same sort of connection. But through it all, we remained true friends. Really, what brought us back together to be extremely close again was the fact that Libby chose to confide in me and me only when she and Jeff were in the ‘pre-contemplation’ stages of parenthood. Jeff and Libby are a wonderful couple who appreciate each other. They enjoy each other, share interests and experiences with happiness. After marriage they were both anxious looking forward to parenthood, but also wanted to enjoy each other. Of course their plan was perfect and I supported Libby telling her- ‘you should wait until after you travel, enjoy your time together because once baby comes everything changes’.
Once they decided to really start trying for a pregnancy, Libby asked me lots and lots of questions every time we spoke. The first few months of disappointment seems completely normal to me. As women, we all fear that something may prohibit us from having a child- the one thing many of us know for sure we want. I would light-heartedly support Libby on the very day each month that she knew for sure it wasn’t her month.
Unfortunately, the roller coaster of disappointment became too long and painful for Libby and Jeff. Libby found herself trying things she never thought she would try, consuming herself in her fertility, and her many options. It was very hard to see a friend go through these struggles, knowing that she would be a wonderful loving mother. Her losses were terrible, painful to be a part of. I encouraged her to share her wonderful news of pregnancy with her family on Christmas, only to receive the call of loss a few days later. Luckily, Libby has a wonderfully supportive family, and she needed their support more than ever.
I saw Libby and Jeff try to move on, try to make new decisions. They are so fortunate to have each other, make decisions together, looking ahead instead of behind. Of course it was devastating to hear that her IVF was unsuccessful but she also had some strange swelling. I thought maybe it was the hormones, but luckily she sought medical attention.
I can’t imagine the pain of knowing immediately that her health was in jeopardy and needed to be addressed immediately. That news put a halt on her well planned out future. Shortly after hearing that news, she confided in me yet again ‘I know you are going to think I am crazy but I am going to talk to Jeff tonight about using a surrogate. I know it could take up to a year, so I want to be prepared’. Immediately I said I had thought about being a surrogate in the past- but why?
My pregnancies were wonderful times in my life. I loved watching my body change, I had what most would call easy pregnancies. Of course the last few weeks were uncomfortable, but still wonderful. My births with both boys were great. Difficult of course, but it seemed my body easily adapted to the task at hand. Now I am immediately getting excited about the prospect of being pregnant again, because Nathan and I have already decided our family is complete. I am excited about the idea of carrying my friend’s baby- the excitement on both sides.
Our discussions over the next few weeks were exciting and complicated. Calling doctors, figuring out the details of where and when. But everything happened incredibly quickly. Doctors appointments, hormones, the transfer in NYC, the wonderful news 10 days later.
A co-worked asked me- does this pregnancy feel different to you than your own? My immediate answer was yes— and I was surprised by my answer. Very different- in this pregnancy I knew A LOT. In my own pregnancies, my first midwife appointment wasn’t until 10 weeks. By that time I had ultrasounds, a lot of labwork, and a lot of nervous days. Carrying baby G is exciting, but nerve-racking. Every feeling in my body since the transfer has been obvious- leaving me often hoping it is okay, it is normal, although my heart knows it is. The biggest stress is thinking of how much I only want to be part of their joy, never part of their loss.
I am now 15 weeks pregnant, and it is obvious to all who know me. I have gotten ‘compliments’ of how I look great with my chubby cheeks :). I have gotten many kind compliments from people once they know that I am a surrogate for my best friend, but I often respond- she deserves it. As I was laying at NYU in a reclined position after the transfer, I watched Jeff holding the rattle Libby brought back from India. He said ‘I can’t believe this is going to be our babies first toy’. I immediately felt the grief that was masked by this joy and anticipation. Unfair cannot begin to explain how we came together and got to this point. But yet Libby and Jeff look ahead with acceptance in their hearts, joy, gratitude, and excitement. I am honored to be part of this journey.