5) Cat's Out of the Bag

Prior to publicly posting the blog, I talked to all of my close friends and family.  Many of them already knew I was planning on a second surrogacy, but not the details.  On one hand, it’s really none of their business what I choose to do with my time and family, and it’s certainly not like they were going to convince me otherwise.  On the other hand, I felt it was important to tell them personally before they heard it from someone else.  

I have a shirt from HRC that reads “Legalize Gay.”  I don’t wear it often because of the feeling I have when I do.  I’m self conscious enough as it is—genuinely thinking that overall I’m a pretty awesome person while at the same time consistently believing that the majority of people don’t agree.  Whenever I wear that shirt though, I feel like people are judging me even more.  Maybe they assume I’m gay.  Maybe they assume I’m a gay-lover.  Maybe they assume I’m going to hell.  Of course, I’m not gay, I am a gay-lover, and it’s up to no human being where I end up for all of eternity after I die.  For the most part, I couldn’t care less what people think about me.  But still, I hate the feeling of being judged and am thus uncomfortable every time I wear that shirt. 

Take that feeling and multiple it by one thousand and maybe I can relate just a tiny bit to how my gay friends feel every day of their lives.  Regardless of how much they don’t care about others’ opinions, having the feeling of judgment all the time.  The same, I imagine, is true of someone infected with HIV—a consistent sense of judgment from everyone who finds out. But of course, as a straight white woman, what do I know?

Looking back at out when I first reached out to J & A, I can see why it took so long for them to respond.  First of all, engaging in the surrogacy process is no joke.  It is a serious commitment from all sides, and even when you’ve decided that you want to pursue it, it takes time to process what that means and what the steps are to make it happen, and then to actually begin on each of those steps.  I knew that.  And I knew I reached out to them quite a bit before they were actually ready and would have started pursuing surrogacy, which has resulted in a slower than average process.   As much as I’m anxious to just get started (because who doesn’t want to start sticking themselves with needles, injecting all sorts of hormones into their system, and then become pregnant and once again start her mornings by throwing up?), I can be patient and was expecting for it to move at a leisurely pace. 

Now add in the aspect of being HIV positive.  We talked for quite a long time before J brought that up.  I imagine they were feeling out the situation, trying to get an idea of if I would be receptive to working with them, and if not what my reaction might be otherwise.  Had they gone directly through an agency, the agency would have that uncomfortable conversation for them.  When considering matching, the agency would do their best to find a potential surrogate whom they thought would be open to the idea, often someone who works in a profession that would lend itself to the idea, perhaps someone in the medical community who would have an easier time understanding and being comfortable with the science behind the process, or say special education who is used to working with different populations and researching individual circumstances and needs. 

If they thought I was that person, my coordinator would have called me to tell me she had a couple in mind that she thought I’d work well with and she’d tell me all the amazing and wonderful things about them and I’d see pictures of their ever-so-handsome selves and read their compelling profile and start to fall in love with them.  Then she’d say, now that you know how great they are, are you willing to work with a couple where one of the guys is HIV-positive?  And I’d say, well, I just don’t know.  She might be able to convince me to consider it, and if so, she’d arrange a phone conference with the doctor at the SPAR program.  Regardless, I’d respond that they sound great, but it’s just really too much of a risk for me to take.  I have a husband and three kids and I just can’t put my family through that kind of additional stress and worry and take the very very very slight chance that I might contract it.  At least that ‘s how about half of the women whom agencies approach generally responded.  By having met and discussed a match prior, J & A had the chance to feel me out first, and they had the advantage of my already deciding that I really really liked them before telling me about their specific circumstance.   

Having been through a surrogacy before, I’m experienced with the responses, and am thankful to say that the majority of people I know responded positively.  I wasn’t sure, however, how those same people would feel with this new added element.  And more, so, I wasn’t sure how their own friends would react, friends who would doubtless find out about it and subsequently feel compelled to voice their opinions about how I choose to live my ife.  I wanted my close friends and family to be prepared. 

One person in particular I wanted to talk to was my dad.  I was fairly certain that my mom had already told to him about it.  Like me with Evan, secrets don’t last long between those two—perhaps one of many reasons they’ve been married for over fifty years.  I gave him a call and, after our usual catch-up on how school’s going, I told him that I was going to be doing another surrogacy journey and that one of the guys was HIV-positive.  “Yeah, I heard that,” he replied. 

“Well, I just wanted you to know.  I know how people talk and I wanted you to be aware before.”

“You know I don’t usually pay very much attention when people talk.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

My dad and me, circa 1987

I have inherited the “I don’t give a flip what people think about what I do” gene from my father, along with a large majority of my other personality traits.  I love my mom and she is my go-to support person.  But my dad is whom I have shaped my life after.  My religious, social, and political foundations are rooted in what I’ve been taught by my dad.  I went into education because of my dad.  And on the days (weeks...months…) it’s just too much and I want to quit, I think about his perseverance in the field and I keep going.  I worry about what he’ll think about my actions—one of only a handful of people whose response I do actually care about—and I strive to make him proud.  I was worried less about him having a negative perception of the action itself, and more about his reaction to his daughter’s safety.  On my first surrogacy journey, my dad and I had numerous long talks about the process, particularly in regards to the legal precautions and my own protections.  He might come off as stern and grouchy, a bit of an ass (okay, not might—he definitely always gives that first impression), but he’s my dad and like any dad he worries about his children’s wellbeing.  Especially his favorite youngest daughter.  Thankfully, as I expected he would be, he was completely supportive. 

Like my husband was, and like they all were about my first surrogacy, I had incredibly positive feedback from almost everyone I spoke with.  I had already talked with my mom, and she was fine.  I called my sisters and let them know.  They were supportive but had lots of questions.  I texted my best friend, my sister-in-law, and my niece.

The exception to all of this was, as anticipated, my mother-in-law.  I love Sandy dearly, and when it comes to in-laws, I basically won the jackpot with Evan’s parents and sister.  But Sandy is a worrywart, and has a tendency to hone in on the most negative aspect of any situation.  In some regards this is a good quality—it’s important to look at all aspects of things, and occasionally us optimists like to just gloss over those parts. But often it’s a hindrance.  I gave her the facts, once again stating that this particular clinic has provided the service to over 173 surrogates, all of who remained uninfected and who bore uninfected babies.  That there are over 4,000 cases of HIV-positive males contributing to third-party reproduction through one way or another and all of those have had the same uneventful results.  Etc, etc, etc.  “I don’t know, Michelle,” she said.  “That’s scary.  That really scares me.”  She was hesitant and anxious through all of my first surrogacy, and this merely adds another layer of complication and concern for her.  Hopefully reading this and my continued teaching on the subject will put her mind at ease.  But I doubt it. 

One last person to explain all of this to was my son.  My son is nine, and quite simply an amazing child.  He is smart and funny and so incredibly thoughtful and caring.  He loves to learn and wants to be a geologist and a judge and maybe the president when he grows up. And I’ve no doubt that he will be absolutely fantastic at all of those things.  But he has his dad’s anxiety and I wanted to be the one to explain everything and put his mind to ease.  We sat down and started talking about my upcoming surrogacy, of which he was already aware of, and more about J & A.  After my basic explanation of HIV/AIDS—what it is and how it’s transferred—Clem remembered that he had read about the immune system and T-cells and white blood cells in his biology and anatomy book.  

So this happened.

Clem, reading up on viruses and white blood cells

When we finished our conversation, Clem pulled out his biology book and reread those sections, then got out his anatomy book and looked at pictures of the immune system.

This right here.  This is a huge reason for my deciding to do this particular journey.  My son is engaged in learning more about the human body, viruses, and HIV/AIDS, with genuine interest and buy-in.  His understanding of it is increased as he can make real-world connections to what he’s reading.  When my son learns this in his health class, he’ll be able to say to his friends—some of whom will likely make uninformed and possibly hurtful comments about the HIV-positive community—“I have a friend with HIV; let me explain.”  Through this journey, even more so than our first, my son—and my two daughters—are learning about empathy.  About researching and fully understanding a topic before you make assumptions about it.  About giving back to humanity in whatever ways your talents allow.  While I am honored to hopefully be able to give the gift of family to J & A, I’m equally honored to be teaching these values to my own children along the way. 

4) Hurry Up and Wait

I understand that the details of every surrogacy journey are varied, but the process thus far has been completely different than my first experience.  Before my first journey, I had thought about doing surrogacy for years, so when Evan and I determined that three was it for us, I started looking into it more seriously.  I applied with NWSC in late December, knowing that I wouldn’t want to get pregnant until the fall.  I was still nursing my baby, and I had envisioned a fall transfer to make for a summer baby so I would reduce the likelihood of having to take time off work.  My initial application with NWSC was approved, but I took my time with the following steps—getting my medical records, scheduling psychological evaluations.  In May I was officially approved and in June I was matched.  My IFs had difficulty choosing an egg donor, so our transfer was postponed until late January.  But overall, it followed the typical surrogacy timeline.

This time, I’m working somewhat backwards.  I have a match, but no agency, no clinic, no contract yet.  In one respect, I really enjoy the authenticity of the match—knowing that we really chose each other and that there’s some level of fate involved in bringing us together.  On the other hand, I am anxious to make this “real” by officially signing with the agency and getting contracts underway.  The commitment to become a surrogate puts your entire life on hold.  I’m already taking considerations with my health—adding back my prenatal  and other vitamins, and being thoughtful about what I eat, drinking alcohol and caffeine, and how I exercise.  I’ve turned down travel plans for the fall because I don’t know where we’ll be in the process and if I’ll be pregnant or not.  I’ve already started to make plans for the following school year, both around my own teaching job and my children’s needs in expectation of being pregnant and also needing to travel to Portland periodically.  From the moment you decide to do it, surrogacy is a full-time commitment.  Plus, I can't shake this feeling that any day now they're going to call and say they've decided not to be parents or that they want to postpone a couple years or that after watching me via Facebook for two months they've decided I'm not really the right fit after all.  I'm fairly confident that's not the case, but even so I'm still anxious to make it official.

In the meantime, I’m enjoying getting to know J & A better and educating myself on our unique circumstance.  One of my reasons for doing surrogacy, aside from loving being pregnant and from helping to create a family, is expanding my family’s horizons.  When given the opportunity to work with an international couple on our first journey, our main reason for saying yes was to introduce our family to a new culture. For that year, we immersed ourselves in Israeli culture. We tracked Jewish holidays, reading about them and the selections from the Bible that corresponded.  I followed Israeli politics, including the elections my IF was a part of.  They are both members of the Likud, a political party that aligns with the opposite of my US political affiliation.  Reading up on their perspective forced me to look at things from a different angle—a challenge I welcome.  Even though our journey with them is over, our interest in the culture has continued, including my visiting in March and us planning a family trip there in a few years.  

Although I was ready to work with J & A before knowing, J’s HIV+ status is actually something of a selling point for me.  I look at it as an opportunity to learn and to educate.  In researching the SPAR program, I find myself researching more and more about the disease in general.  Although I was aware that there have been great advances in the past two decades, the majority of my understanding comes from my eighth grade health class, where I distinctly remember Ms. Spence teaching about it, a huge part of the curriculum—at least what I paid attention to—having something to do with Magic Johnson being positive and numerous references to the number of women he slept with.  But that was twenty-five years ago and, although I’ve seen news articles and clips periodically since then, I haven’t paid too much attention.  I look at this as an opportunity for myself and my children to become more educated and understanding, and to perhaps be able to educate others and minimize the stigma surrounding HIV and AIDS.  I’ve been reading articles and blogs and searching for opportunities to fundraise and educate.  When Janae asked me to blog for ATS, I jumped at the chance, and am thankful that J agreed, knowing that this is a deeply personal issue to have someone else write about.  There continues to be misconception and stigma around HIV/AIDS, and I appriciate his willingness to be open about his status and take a chance on my sharing this experience with the world.  So while I sit here and wait (and wait and wait and wait) for the good stuff to start happening, I’ll do my best to stay occupied with learning and educating through writing and with preparing my body for one last pregnancy. 

3) Unexpected Proposal

It was almost two weeks between our first FaceTime meeting and when they contacted me again.  J messaged me that they’d like to talk, and we were all available that night, so we set it up for after kids’ bedtime.  They started out by saying that they would like to move forward with me as their surrogate.  I was excited to oblige.  They continued that they had talked with Sandy at NWSC and were pretty sure they would use them for their agency, but still wanted to check out some others.  Then J continued that they had something else to talk to me about before moving forward. 

“I’m HIV positive.”  J continued to explain that he had been positive for sixteen years.  That he and A had been together for ten and it hadn’t been transferred.  That he has been taking a serious medical regimen and has been undetectable for seven years.  They explained the SPAR program to me, which I had previously researched when a surrogate acquaintance asked about it in one of my FB groups. 

There is nothing that can prepare you for making that decision.  I’d researched it before, and although it was at least a year previous, I remembered that what I found was encouraging.    But it’s one thing to provide support and encouragement to someone else who is considering it and quite another to actually agree to do it with your own body. 

After we hung up, I spent over an hour researching online.  The SPAR program is operated through the Bedford Research Foundation Clinical Laboratory in Massachusetts.  First, J would have to undergo a thorough medical examination, which would include continued determination of his undetectable status.  With treatment, the viral load (the amount of HIV in a blood sample) is reduced; if it’s below 40-75, you’re considered undetectable, meaning your body is fighting the virus successfully and the chance of transmission is low.  With doctor approval, a specimen is collected.  Even if the viral load in blood is undetectable, it’s still possible that the semen has a detectable load, with some studies showing 5 to 10 percent of undetectable blood samples having detectable semen samples.  

Some research indicates that HIV is carried in the semen, but not sperm.  If the specimen contains any level of detectability, the entire collection is discarded.  The specimen is then “washed” clean—the sperm and the semen separated, and the sperm tested for the virus. Through this particular clinic, as of June 2013, 178 clients had used the program and no mothers or babies were infected.  Other programs exist, and it’s reported that in over 4,000 cases of sperm from and HIV+ man being used in assistive reproduction, there have been no cases of transmittal.  In addition to J, the surrogate has to undergo additional medical assessment, even more so than the typical medical evaluations required, have a phone or in-person conference with the doctor of the SPAR program, and sign consent of understanding. 

My husband was asleep and I wasn’t sure how to approach him about it anyway.  So I did what I always do when I’m in a situation and need some solid advice—I called my mom.  My mom had been with me at the conference in San Francisco and met J & A there.  She really liked them too, and was excited about the idea of my working with them.  We talked for quite a bit and I explained to her all the research I had done.  She and I had the same trepidation—my husband. 

Having a wife who is pregnant is a great source of stress for any man.  Having a wife who is pregnant with another man’s baby is a source of even greater stress—the sort of stress of your wife being in danger but not for the benefit of your own personal family.  Having a wife who is pregnant with another man’s baby who may or may not have passed an incurable and possibly fatal disease to her is a source of unimaginable stress.  Our life contains a substantial amount of stress as it is.  Convincing him to go along with a second surrogacy at all took some persuading.  I had no idea how this would go.

I considered waiting a few days to talk to him and to try to find the perfect opportunity, but the truth is, I’m not good at keeping things from my husband.  Maybe that’s why we’ve lasted this long.  Even when it’s something I know he won’t care much about, my husband is my go-to person, the first person I want to tell everything to.  The next morning, I brought it up with him.  Granted, I hemmed and hawed about what to say and how to say it and waited until just the right moment in the morning to tell him.  When we were in the place where a great portion of our most significant conversations take place—the shower.  When you both work full time and you have three kids, uninterrupted quiet time is difficult to come by. Some time ago we discovered that the best time and place to be alone and talk is during a morning communal shower.  Plus, it’s much easier to convince your husband (or wife) to go along with whatever you’re trying to sell when you’re both naked.  It’s a proven fact (and by proven fact I mean that I Googled it and deducted that it’s not all that uncommon for couples to shower together for more reasons than just sex).   

I explained to my husband all the research I had done.  He asked the standard question—the same question my mom had asked and the same question I had asked the guys:  Why can’t you just use sperm from A?  The answer is as simple as it was for my first IFs to decide whose sperm to use—because they both wanted to have and raise a biological child.  Although they’d be content if it didn’t work out and they ended up only having biological children from A, like most couples, their ideal consists of raising children that are biologically related to each of them.  As much of an ass as he so often is, my husband also manages to surprise me every now and again—usually when I least expect it and usually when it’s the most important to me.  “Well, let’s talk with them about it more.  I trust that the doctors know what they’re doing.” 

That’s all I needed to say yes.  I too trust that the doctors know what they’re doing.  I trust that J & A are taking every precaution to ensure that this is done in the most ethical and safe way possible.  But most of all, I trust my husband.  Someone who has significant anxiety and worries about the most minuscule and ridiculous things, someone who I truly believe would be completely lost if anything happened to me.  If he trusts in it and is willing to go through with this amazing experience, then I know it is right for us.