We received our surrogate profiles today!!!
And I almost had a total meltdown...
Selecting a surrogate in India is a bit different than selecting a surrogate in the United States. In the United States you essentially have 3 options for choosing a surrogate: 1) Use an agency (note that for the same price you could, in the alternative, purchase a second home ), 2) set up an online profile on a surrogate matching website (think match.com with profiles centering around menstrual cycle history-- yes, it's a bit awkward, but I did it, and it works), or 3) find someone you know who is willing to carry altruistically and promise them a middle namesake or possibly, a guaranteed spot in the godparent pool (unfortunately, these types tend to be few and far between).
In India, however, at least at our clinic, potential surrogates rotate on a monthly basis, and about 7-8 days prior to an intended mother or egg donor's egg retrieval (i.e. today for me), intended parents are sent about six surrogate profiles whose cycles are the best match. They are then asked to select one or two, or have the option of leaving it up to the doctor.
So I woke up this morning, checked my email, and as soon as I saw the subject line "surrogate profiles" I was suddenly paralyzed with fear. I couldn't understand it. I had made the enormous decision to pursue surrogacy. I had made the brave decision to pursue surrogacy in India. And I had easily made the decision as to who would provide half of our child's genetics in less than 24 hours.
What was it about making this final decision that horrified me? Why, when I attempted to click the download button to view the profiles, did my finger remain frozen in midair?
Naturally, I did what any person making a major life decision would do-- I went to a get a pedicure.
So I get to the nail salon and the first thing the nail tech says to me in typical Vietnamese nail salon fashion is: "Pick a color." I stare blankly at the rows and rows of polish bottles lined neatly up against the wall.
Suddenly, my heart starts racing.
Do I go with the half empty bottle of mauve polish? It doesn't stand out against the rest of the bottles, yet it's clear that others have liked it in the past. And while it's certainly a more serious looking color, maybe that's the look I should be going for.
Or do I take a chance on the never opened bright fuchsia polish? It's young and it's fun and it certainly stands out. But is there a reason nobody has selected it before? Should I be the first to give it a chance?
Noticing that I am about two seconds away from tears, vomiting, or both, the nail lady kindly looks at me and states in her broken English, "Not to worry. I pick for you."
And I am SO relieved. Because, sometimes, as hard as it is for me to do, I need to let go of my inner control freak.
Sometimes, a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, and having had so many pedicures in the past, it was quite possible that I could have stood analyzing the pros and cons of each color for days... and never actually come to a decision.
And then there was the other reason that is a little harder to admit. I had already made so many decisions leading up to this one. I had made the decision to get a pedicure. I had the made the decision as to what nail salon I would go to. And now, if I was the one to select the color, the outcome would be completely dependent upon decisions made solely by me.
What if, after having selected a color, the pedicure didn't turn out the way I was hoping it would? Would I beat myself up for selecting the wrong color? Would I spend hours agonizing over how it might possibly have turned out... if only I had selected a different color?
Coincidentally, the pedicure turned out beautifully.
Afterwards, I went home to call Duane, to let him know that I was forwarding him the surrogate profiles.
And as I forwarded the profiles, I recalled the nail tech's words as I was about to leave the salon. "See, so beautiful," she says to me,
Yes, indeed, sometimes it is.
And I almost had a total meltdown...
Selecting a surrogate in India is a bit different than selecting a surrogate in the United States. In the United States you essentially have 3 options for choosing a surrogate: 1) Use an agency (note that for the same price you could, in the alternative, purchase a second home ), 2) set up an online profile on a surrogate matching website (think match.com with profiles centering around menstrual cycle history-- yes, it's a bit awkward, but I did it, and it works), or 3) find someone you know who is willing to carry altruistically and promise them a middle namesake or possibly, a guaranteed spot in the godparent pool (unfortunately, these types tend to be few and far between).
In India, however, at least at our clinic, potential surrogates rotate on a monthly basis, and about 7-8 days prior to an intended mother or egg donor's egg retrieval (i.e. today for me), intended parents are sent about six surrogate profiles whose cycles are the best match. They are then asked to select one or two, or have the option of leaving it up to the doctor.
So I woke up this morning, checked my email, and as soon as I saw the subject line "surrogate profiles" I was suddenly paralyzed with fear. I couldn't understand it. I had made the enormous decision to pursue surrogacy. I had made the brave decision to pursue surrogacy in India. And I had easily made the decision as to who would provide half of our child's genetics in less than 24 hours.
What was it about making this final decision that horrified me? Why, when I attempted to click the download button to view the profiles, did my finger remain frozen in midair?
Naturally, I did what any person making a major life decision would do-- I went to a get a pedicure.
So I get to the nail salon and the first thing the nail tech says to me in typical Vietnamese nail salon fashion is: "Pick a color." I stare blankly at the rows and rows of polish bottles lined neatly up against the wall.
Suddenly, my heart starts racing.
Do I go with the half empty bottle of mauve polish? It doesn't stand out against the rest of the bottles, yet it's clear that others have liked it in the past. And while it's certainly a more serious looking color, maybe that's the look I should be going for.
Or do I take a chance on the never opened bright fuchsia polish? It's young and it's fun and it certainly stands out. But is there a reason nobody has selected it before? Should I be the first to give it a chance?
Noticing that I am about two seconds away from tears, vomiting, or both, the nail lady kindly looks at me and states in her broken English, "Not to worry. I pick for you."
And I am SO relieved. Because, sometimes, as hard as it is for me to do, I need to let go of my inner control freak.
Sometimes, I just need to allow others to make decisions for me.
And then there was the other reason that is a little harder to admit. I had already made so many decisions leading up to this one. I had made the decision to get a pedicure. I had the made the decision as to what nail salon I would go to. And now, if I was the one to select the color, the outcome would be completely dependent upon decisions made solely by me.
What if, after having selected a color, the pedicure didn't turn out the way I was hoping it would? Would I beat myself up for selecting the wrong color? Would I spend hours agonizing over how it might possibly have turned out... if only I had selected a different color?
I realized that by allowing someone else to choose, I was possibly relieving myself of the burden of some very difficult questions later on. And I realized that this was ok.
Afterwards, I went home to call Duane, to let him know that I was forwarding him the surrogate profiles.
And as I forwarded the profiles, I recalled the nail tech's words as I was about to leave the salon. "See, so beautiful," she says to me,
"sometimes better when others pick for you."
Yes, indeed, sometimes it is.
Picking the surrogate is a tough decision. We narrowed our profiles down to two women and then sent them to Dr. Shivani and basically told her to pick between them. She did, very quickly. And off we went to Delhi.
ReplyDeleteAfter meeting our surrogate and signing the contract we received an email saying she was spotting and a new surrogate is on a dumby cycle and ready to go, if needed. In the end, we transferred to the new surrogate and now we are 24 weeks pregnant. My suggestion is to take a deep breath and go with your gut feeling. Good luck!
Good luck Bernadette its a stressful time. Glad you had a pedicure before you went. I had one over there and the guy that did it enjoyed it more than me! Lets just say he massaged more than my calf, or tried to!!!!!
ReplyDeleteI have tears in my eyes. Such a sweet and completely understandable post. Your feet look gorgeous and ready to take on the world! If I could, i'd get a pedicure every morning. I hate decisions anymore...even having to choose what to eat sometimes. I'm so happy for you and can't wait to hear all about India! Sending some more love your way! Xoxo
ReplyDeleteMaria
Try not to get too caught up in the surrogate choosing process, like Skhan said, the change can happen and you need to roll with it! We ended up with a surrogate change to a 35 year old girl, tiny (40kg) , far from "ideal", yet here we are 36 weeks pregnant! Our surro has done an amazing job, as will yours.
ReplyDeleteNot to worry. When things get hairy here in India all you need to do is go to VLCC for the best mani/pedi of your life. It's what I missed most about this place while I was away.
ReplyDeleteps. The color choice is perfect! It's India's favorite color.
I laughed with tears while I read your post because I had a similar incident last Friday at the "Paint Your Pot" place. My friend wanted me to go for a fun night out and it seemed like a good idea at the time. But, when I got there and saw the bowl I thought I wanted was twice the price of everything else, I put it back and then took it again; put it back and took it again; and on and on and on. Then, once I did settle on the bowl, I was given about 8 million choices for colors, designs, stencils, etc. It was just TOO much for me. All that said, I feel your pain...truly I do. I have found myself giving things personalities and identities with fates and implications that would be considered insane to anyone outside of the infertility circle.
ReplyDeleteBest wishes to you and, if you're okay with it, I may be in touch again because my husband and I are about 2-3 months behind you on this journey and we are anxious about paperwork, visas, etc. I just don't want to miss a step and the pressure to know everything and do everything is crazy!
Best wishes..we also had chosen 3 favourite ladies who we sent for Dr S to finally decide on. At the last minute a new lady altogether was our special lady and so far, so good!
ReplyDeleteI thought I was indecisive, but now I'm not so sure...
ReplyDelete