Heart beat video

Hope is now fifteen weeks. We had news at the end of last week that our amazing surrogage Mum had been for a scan. She didn't actually see Hope but she heard her heart beat. Our surrogate Mum e-mailed that she had tried to make a video of the heart beat. I'm not quite sure what that means! But, anyway, apparently it didn't work properly because when our surrogate Mum tried to tranfer it to her computer the sound didn't come through. As a result, she decided not to send it to us. I thought she was properly right about that - a video of a heart beat without the sound is probably not a meaningful experience. As you may guess by the tone of the post, I'm not in the least upset about this. In fact, I'm strangely amused. Some how it seems symptomatic of this whole weird world we are in. This now-you-see-it, now-you-don't kind of world where everything is ridiculously abstract. Actually the truth is that I was pretty glad not to hear the heart beat. I've heard too many heart beats which have subsequently stopped. And, had I heard it, I would probably have spent the whole weekend in tears - and as it is I've had a lovely time at my Mum's farm in the gorgeous spring weather with my mum, my sister and my little boy.

Worries

We are up to twelve weeks and all seems to be going well. But I am beset by worries. Strangely these worries aren't about the obvious things - like will Hope die? Instead they're about the whole surrogacy process. Obviously my husband and I thought very long and hard before we chose the surrogacy route. And actually there is now no point in considering whether our decision was right or wrong. But some how the reality of the decision we've taken is only just hitting home now. My main worry is that surrogacy is just too big an ask. It's too much to expect another woman to have a baby for you. And it isn't just that woman. It's her family. Our surrogate had her own six year old daughter. I know that it has been explained fully to that six year old that the baby won't be staying. But how can you explain that to a six year old? I don't know. Of course, I should have thought more before we decided. And I did think. But I'm a woman who wants a child and I am not rational. Not at all. But equally that isn't an adequate excuse.

Our baby has a name!

We have discovered that our baby has a heart beat - always a good thing. And we've decided to give her a temporary name. This decision was not without its difficulties. Our lovely surrogate Mum suggested we should find a name and I was broadly in favour but my husband was nervous. He is, understandably, very cautious. I think he just can't bear to be disappointed again - and he can't bear to see me disappointed either. But I'm strangely full of confidence. I wasn't confident with the last two pregnancies. I knew they would fail. And I knew the IVF wouldn't work. But now I just feel sure that this will work. And so we have settled on a temporary name for our baby. She is called Hope because that's what she represents to us. I feel rather teary typing that. Of course, the Black Humour Department of my brain has pointed out that, should she die, then that will The Death Of Hope. But then that is what it will be - literally and metaphorically - so that at least satisfies the writerly part of me which exists that things must be called by their proper names. Anyway, for the moment, we have Hope. And that's just fantastic! Actually totally, completely, wonderfully amazing.

Amazing news!

Our fantastic surrogate mum is pregnant! We found out 10 days ago and I've just been in a total spin ever since. I thought I'd been on some emotional roller coasters in the past but this is the wildest ride yet. I am thrilled - but so much of the past has suddenly come rushing back and that has been a huge shock. I have also been furiously researching surrogacy. Of course, I should have done that before. But I just couldn't invest in the process because I was sure it could never work. In fact, the truth is that I only ever started the whole surrogacy thing because my husband was so, so low and I was frightened for our marriage .... And I just thought it might give him a bit of hope. And all the time I've been waiting for the Huge Great Big Obstacle that would make the whole thing impossible. And there certainly have been a few Huge Obstacles - largely because the law in this country is ridiculously dated and complicated. But now suddenly we are there and it's happened. How extra-ordinary! How totally extra-ordinary! I've had such a poor level of support from family and friends through all these difficulties - and now two ladies in America (an egg donor and surrogate) have taken my problem on and solved it. My head is just spinning.

Surrogacy - it's happening!

Suddenly I'm back to this blog again. I'm making myself type a post in order to make something which seems unreal into something real. For the last eighteen months my husband and I have been planning to do gestational surrogacy in the United States - and now it's happening. At the end of this week. Everything is sorted - finding the agency, the surrogate, the egg donor, the clinic, the lawyers. But the truth is that I never believed that any of this would actually happen. I just couldn't allow myself to believe. But now it is happening and I'm in a total panic. I realise that I have no idea what I'm meant to be saying or doing in this situation. I feel that I'm in totally uncharted terretory. Elton John has done this but not many other people in England have. I realise that I'm going to have to find some sources of support and I'm also realising that (as in the stillbirth world) the internet is more likely to be of help than those around me. In particular I just want to give our wonderful surrogate the best support I can. Very few people in my real world know what I'm doing. That's because I don't want to raise expectations but also because I just don't feel robust enough to deal with any criticism - although I now I need to get over that pretty quickly now.

Anniversary

Tomorrow is the fifth anniversary of our daughter's death. By this time five years ago I knew that she would die but I still had to go through the labour. The odd thing is that I'm not upset at all. I've just spent an hour reading posts on the SANDS (UK stillbirth charity's) website. Usually I finish up having a good cry if I do that. But no! Of course, it's stupid for me to be upset because I'm not upset. I should just make the most of it in the certain knowledge that there will be a day when - randomly - I'm really upset. I know that some people would assume that I'm not upset because five years have gone by. But actually it is only eighteen months since the last miscarriage - and the final, final knowledge that we were at the end of the road. I think that the truth is that for the last two years I've just been entirely frozen. Loss has piled up on loss and I've just ceased to have any reaction. I don't look as though I'm frozen. In fact, I look quite normal but I really don't feel anything about anything. After Laura died, I promised myself I'd write a letter to her every year on her birthday and that I'd put all the letters away in her special box. But last year I didn't write the letter because I didn't have anything to say. This year is pretty much the same. My husband is away. So I'm here on my own with my son. I keep thinking I'll call someone but I don't really feel like it. Maybe I'll just go to bed and read a book.

The cricket team

Suddenly it has all come to bits because of the cricket team (I ask you - the cricket team!) and I'm sitting here crying when I haven't cried in months. The story is that my son (age 7) isn't in the cricket team. He's nearly a year younger than most of the other boys in his class and many of them are a whole head shoulders taller than he is - so although he's really keen on sport and tries really hard he isn't in the team. And it tends to happen at his school that if you aren't in the team at the beginning then you're never going to be in the team. There's this clique of big, beefy, hearty, sporty, loud boys who are in all the teams and my son is small and quiet and thoughtful but he really wants to play sport. But I can't even bear to hear myself say all this because I've always had a total contempt for all those pushy parents who care so much about whose child is clever / sporty / top of the form in this or that. And yet here I am in tears because my son isn't in the team. But, of course, it isn't really about any of that ..... I just tried talking to a couple of other mothers and they made comforting noises about how some children are good at some things and some are good at other. But for them there are children. For me, there's a child. And I know I'm lucky there is a child. I can't explain. It's too difficult. I suppose the thing is that it's the fifth anniversary of Laura's death on the 19th May and I was talking to my husband about that the other night. I said, 'It hasn't got any better, has it?' I expected him to say something comforting about how things have got a little easier with time. But instead he said, 'No, it hasn't got any better.' And that's just it. And now I start getting upset about the stupid, stupid cricket team.