Inconceivable

by Carolyn Savage

  Fortunately, I was able to wrap up everything that needed to be done regarding our surrogacy in time to leave it all behind, get one more ultrasound, and then retreat to my parents’ home for rest and relaxation. My mom and dad live along the shores of southern Lake Michigan, and their house is something of a vacation home for us. I was ecstatic about getting away from the monotony of my day-today life at home, and I knew the kids would love spending the days playing on the beach, going fishing, and sailing the afternoons away on Papa’s boat. Though Sean had to stay back for work and I knew I would miss seeing him daily, I really needed the escape and the extra sets of hands to help me with Mary Kate.

  The surrogacy and the possibility that we might soon have a baby in our family helped me redirect my emotions. The bitterness and resentment that had consumed me for the past five months were finally giving way to hope for the future. Surely Karma would circle back around and repay us. Could Shannon be right? Could this be God’s divine plan unfolding behind the scenes in a way that was meant to be? What if, through this event, my baby would be born from Jennifer and escape the dangers of a premature delivery due to the failure of my body? What if this Little Man carried to term because he didn’t have a genetic link to me, sparing him the autoimmune response I had with Ryan and MK? What if Shannon’s body would have failed this child? What if this child would have been doomed inside of her? Could it be that Shannon was actually right? That this was all “God’s plan”?

  Nope. Sometimes things just happen, and it is our job to pick up the pieces and take steps toward a better place. In order to do that I needed to stop stressing about God’s plan and worry about my own, which would have to include an improved attitude.

  You are turning toward hope. That is good. What next? Where do you go from here?

  I had an idea, but I still wasn’t sure I was strong enough to act on my new perspective just yet.

  You are strong enough. You can do this. This is the right thing.

  And without giving it any further thought, I grabbed my computer and frantically wrote a message to Shannon.

  Hi Shannon,

  Everything is still fine with me and the baby. I wanted to let you know that you are more than welcome to come to the ultrasound next week. As difficult as this has been for us, I think it would be okay for you to come and meet my ob/gyn and see the baby. It might take some of the mystery out of delivery day for you.

  Also, as for the delivery, Sean and I are gearing up for that day with our counselor. Our plan is to have you and Paul there so that as soon as the baby is ready to be taken to the nursery, you can see/meet him outside of the operating room. I seem to remember they took my daughter and my son very quickly from the room, so it would only be a few minutes from the time of delivery to the time you would be able to meet him. We’d also like some private time to say hello and good-bye to him in the operating room.

  As for the hospital stay, I think we can get a room arranged for you all to have with the baby in the maternity wing. This would only be overnight, or until they discharge him. It would, however, give you some privacy to bond with him as normally as this situation allows. Let me know if that is what you want, and we can start pulling the necessary strings to get this done.

  We have been told that it is psychologically advisable to have our boys meet the baby. Just to put some concrete reason behind all of the disruption in our lives. We would most likely do this the day of delivery. After that, we will move on and let you all carry on with him without disruption from us.

  Of course, all the above is subject to carrying to term. If anything should happen prematurely, we will let you know immediately. You’ll be our first phone call, I promise.

  The appt. next week is on Monday at 1:10 pm. It is an ultrasound followed by a prenatal appt. with my ob. Let me know, and I will get you directions on how to get to her office.

  Carolyn

  I finished the message and surveyed my work while I wiped the tears from my face. It was a plan, but was I really strong enough to have Shannon at an appointment with me?

  You are strong enough. This will help her.

  Was it right to ask for just a moment to say “hello and good-bye” to a child we loved so much? After all, I wanted for so much more.

  Perhaps they’ll understand and honor your bond with this child. Maybe they will have mercy on you and you’ll all move forward together.

  I knew deep inside that inviting Shannon to be present at the next appointment was the right move. Before I could give it much more thought, I pressed Send, turned out the light, and drifted off to sleep, satisfied in my decision to move forward, hoping it was a sign of grace.

  The Third Trimester

  CHAPTER 14

  Reaching Out

  CAROLYN

  THE MONTH OF JULY had given me time to think. I needed to make peace with this situation, which meant making peace with Shannon. To make this turn of mind, I relied on the feedback of my friends. My closest friends, JoAnn, Linda, Tracy, and Ann, helped me reflect on how I could escape from my pity party. In addition to those women, I also had the help of an amazing group of women from around the United States and Canada.

  Originally we’d met on an IVF message board. When the pregnancy was certain, I told them first because they all had undergone IVF in order to have their families, so they had a better understanding than most of my friends of what I was going through. The news shocked them, but they rallied quickly and consistently. Most of them I had never met in person, but they became my sanity check. Many times a day we’d convene in a private Facebook group where at least one of them was always available to help me sort through my emotions and reactions. I called them my “Reliable Girls,” and their support was priceless.

  Suzanne, my Atlanta Reliable Girl, was the one who organized the Facebook group. She also helped us find our new fertility clinic in Atlanta and made the introduction for us so that we didn’t have to cold-call and tell the story to the receptionist and everyone else who answered the phone along the way. I even stayed with her when I had to go to Atlanta for tests prior to Jennifer’s transfer. The Reliable Girls counseled me through every prenatal scare and every anxiety-filled moment. Part of their value was not only their incredible ability to empathize with me but also the way they understood Shannon. Having undergone IVF themselves, they could see the challenges of both of our paths. Their advice helped me understand her, and I started to gain the perspective I needed to move forward.

  After careful reflection with those closest to me, and especially the Reliable Girls, I realized I wasn’t sure that I should trust my first impressions of Shannon. Although everyone agreed that some of Shannon’s communication had been insensitive, they also appreciated that she too was just trying to do her best in a bad situation. I had judged her so harshly for saying how hard this was on herself, but what was happening to her was unreal too. Every day I woke up unable to believe this was my life. She must have been having those mornings too, which could explain some of her statements.

  In one of Shannon’s e-mails, she complained that she felt like a spectator.

  Really? I’d thought. Wait until I get to watch them take a baby out of me and give it to someone else.

  I assumed she didn’t mean me any harm. Despite the counsel of some to keep Shannon at arm’s length, I thought that if I did so I wouldn’t be giving her a chance to understand my despair. We had met each other in a conference room surrounded by lawyers who had advised us on what to say and what not to say. If she came with me to one of my doctor’s appointments, she might see how much I cared about this baby and have more empathy. Also, at Dr. Read’s I routinely had an ultrasound. If Shannon came with me, she’d have a chance to see the baby alive on the screen. This might help her prepare mentally for what was going to happen in just a few months, and it might help me feel more empathy for her. Shannon agreed to my invitation eagerly.

  While my local friends were so impressed that I had extended this generous invitati
on to Shannon, the Reliable Girls were very wary. They cited some of the e-mail exchanges I’d had with Shannon as evidence that my magnanimous gesture might not be appreciated in the way I wanted it to be. I hoped they were wrong.

  The day of the appointment was warm, so I chose a pink maternity blouse and white capri pants. I thought I looked pretty good considering how I had been feeling. I was exhausted. I couldn’t eat past 4:00 P.M., and I had to sleep sitting up with pillows propped around me because of acid reflux. If I turned on my side, I felt terrible. On the bright side, though, my blood pressure had remained normal. After I’d dressed and gotten MK ready, I called Dr. Read’s office to alert Linda that Shannon would attend the ultrasound.

  As I pulled into the doctor’s office parking lot, I found Shannon waving excitedly when she recognized me. By the time I grabbed my purse, she was at my car door with a big smile on her face.

  “Carolyn! I’m so happy that you invited me to come,” she said.

  “Hi, Shannon,” I said. “I haven’t got a sitter for Mary Kate, so I brought her along. Mary Kate, this is Mrs. Morell.”

  “Oh, what a little doll!” Shannon said. “Look at her in her cute little outfit.”

  I walked to the back of the car to pull out the stroller.

  “Look! We have the same car seats,” Shannon said. “Do you want me to get her out for you?”

  “Yes, thank you,” I said.

  Shannon unbuckled MK and put her in the stroller for me. As we walked toward the medical building, I was worried that we had twenty minutes before the appointment. We waited on a bench outside the building. Thankfully, Shannon has the gift of gab, so I didn’t have to say much at all.

  I learned that Paul was an electrical engineer. Shannon’s parents lived in the thumb of Michigan, close to a port that my family often visited on our sailboat. Shannon’s only sister worked in a kindergarten classroom, and her brother-in-law was a principal. Her mom also worked in a school. A family of educators is a good thing in my book, as I was sure they all loved children. Eventually we got around to the subject that had brought us together.

  “Well, we finally told our parents and Paul’s mom, just the immediate family. That’s it, though. The baby will surprise everyone else,” she said. “Some people we hope never to tell. Ever. My counselor at school says that sometimes it is just better to say as little as possible.

  “It’s hard telling people, anyways. The few we have told always end up expressing their congratulations,” Shannon continued. “It feels so weird to be congratulated on something that has been so upsetting to us. No one gets how hard this is for us. Like, we just get to show up at the hospital and bring home a baby. I wanted to be pregnant. I wanted to experience this with my girls. I have a colleague who is due a few weeks after you are. I gave her all of my maternity clothes, and I didn’t anticipate how emotional it was going to be for me to give those away. I wanted to be wearing them. You know?”

  “I can only imagine,” I said. She and I had discussed how difficult this was for her on the phone a few months earlier, but now, listening as she brought it up again, I began to realize how much she was struggling. I was grateful that she was so comfortable opening up, but at the same time I still hesitated to tell her how often I cried or how scared I was.

  She’s trying, Carolyn. She’s trying. You could open up.

  No. I can’t. I would only hurt her more.

  A few minutes before my appointment, we entered the building and took our seats in Dr. Read’s waiting room. Sean walked in just as we rose to go back for my ultrasound.

  I lay down on the table, took a deep breath, and pulled up my shirt, revealing my pregnant belly to everyone in the room. Linda squirted the gel on my stomach, and I turned my head to watch Little Man pop up on the screen. In an instant, he was there. I glanced at Shannon, who beamed at the first live image of her son she had seen.

  “Okay, little guy. Let’s cooperate today and put on a good show for our guest!” Linda said.

  Linda completed the basic measurements of fetal growth and amniotic fluid. She put the sensor right next to his heart, and the rhythm of his heartbeat filled the whole room. Linda then gave us a good look at the baby.

  “Here are his feet. He has ten toes. This is the top of his brain. We can see all four chambers of his heart. Let me see if we can get a good look at his face.”

  And as if Little Man had heard her, he looked right at us, providing a perfect image of his face.

  “Oh, good boy. See that? His nose, eyes, lips. We can even see his teeth in his mouth! Now, do you want a picture of his man parts?”

  I started to answer, but before I could, Shannon declined. That was when I realized that Linda was talking to Shannon. The extra time looking, the commentary on what we were seeing, were all for Shannon. I turned my stare to the ceiling, beginning to feel like the third wheel, a spectator for sure.

  Breathe, Carolyn. Breathe. This was the kind thing to do. Shannon needed to see this child. She needed to see that he is inside your body. This is a good thing. She will bond with her son and understand that he is bonded to you. This will help. Just breathe.

  “Okay. All done,” Linda said.

  She handed me a towel to wipe off the ultrasound gel, and I sat up. She printed out the ultrasound pictures, and I turned to take them, but she handed them to Shannon.

  We exited the room, and I went to the bathroom, shut the door, and pressed my hands to my eyes.

  Get a grip, Carolyn. You invited her. It was the right thing to do. Now stop it!

  I took a deep breath and went about the routines of a normal prenatal visit. I peed in a cup, stood on the scale, and sat for my blood pressure.

  “Hmmmm…138/80. That is the highest you’ve been to date.”

  Given the circumstances of this visit, I thought an elevated blood pressure was understandable.

  Sean, Shannon, and MK were in the examining room when I entered, and MK already had her toys strewn all over the floor. Dr. Read arrived and started my routine exam. I checked out fine. Shannon remarked that my ankles looked swollen. We all studied my ankles.

  “If that is as swollen as they get, you are in good shape,” Dr. Read remarked.

  “I’m used to being a lot more swollen by now.”

  “Yes, but if swelling is starting, we just want to make sure your health is protected,” Shannon said. “You have this baby whenever they think it is right. We’ll manage with an early delivery if we have to. That would be just fine with us.”

  “Well, I’m only twenty-nine weeks. A delivery right now would be a big deal, and I feel pretty good. I think we may make it with this little guy.”

  “I just want you to know that a premature delivery is okay with us. If we have to spend some time in the NICU, we’ll deal,” Shannon said.

  I appreciated Shannon’s sentiment. She wanted me to know that she was concerned for my health, but at the same time I don’t think she understood the invasiveness of treatment in a NICU. She had taken her twins home after only three days in the hospital.

  “Just to be on the safe side, I think we’ll start seeing you once a week from now on,” Dr. Read said.

  “Sounds reasonable.”

  We finished the appointment and left the office.

  “Thanks for coming, Shannon.”

  “You’re welcome. It was nice to meet your doctor. Just keep me up to date on what’s going on.”

  “Okay. Drive safely.”

  With that, we parted. It was all so polite, so genial, as if we were two girlfriends who had decided to share a special moment in my pregnancy. I honestly don’t know how I just popped up off of the table and went on with the appointment after that confusing exchange during the ultrasound. But I did.

  There were moments during this experience when I wasn’t sure what I thought, and this was one of them. Yes, I had compassion for Shannon, and I could hold that feeling at the same time I experienced fear and anger and dread of what was coming. One thing was certa
in: I wanted to get away from all of it and try to clear my head. I wanted to rest and just concentrate on bringing this baby to term healthy and safe, nurtured by all the love I could muster. I could barely wait to get the kids packed up in the minivan so we could be on the road to my parents’ Lake Michigan house.

  SEAN

  By the third day of coming home to an empty house, I felt melancholy. When I pulled my car into the driveway, I glanced at the basketball hoop I’d put up when we moved here. On summer evenings around this time the boys would be playing one-on-one. Most times I’d put down my work bag and shoot a few baskets with them before going into the house. Then I’d talk to Carolyn about the day while she and Mary Kate played in the backyard. Carolyn would fix dinner when I went for a run or a bike ride. I’d get home in time to spend time with the family. That was all gone for now. The silence in the house amplified my steps across the wood floor.

  I changed my clothes, laced up my shoes, secured my helmet, and threw on sunglasses. With everyone gone, I had decided to step up my training for the Sylvania Triathlon/Duathlon by increasing my workouts to one and a half to two hours. That night I planned to do a twenty-five-mile bike ride and a three-mile run. Soon I was riding past cornfields dotted with farmhouses. The corn was nearing its peak height, which meant the race was just a few weeks away. On this hot summer day, the air was thick and the corn silk tassels on top of the stalks shifted with the breeze. The aroma was sweet, and the only sound was the wind passing through my bike helmet and the occasional splat of a bug meeting its demise as it collided with the front of my helmet. In early August, when the leaves of the cornstalks started to brown, I would know that the race was upon me.