As a surrogate, I’ve received great praise from a number of
people, from strangers to friends and family, to my IFs and their
families. Of course, as the surrogate,
we do the majority of the work being the ones to take shots, be pregnant, and
go through labor. Often overlooked and
undercredited, however, is the spouse.
Being a surrogate is a great undertaking, a huge stressor, and the
spouse often takes on a significant portion of that.
Going into this the first time, I knew this. Being pregnant is taxing. Although we live in an industrialized country
with reasonable healthcare, there are possible complications with any
pregnancy, which are frequently increased with IVF. My husband experiences significant anxiety as
it is, worrying about things I don’t even stop to think about, so having a
pregnant wife is mentally exhausting for him.
He and I have talked about this before, and I genuinely appreciate his
willingness to do another journey. The
motivation is different for husbands, at least for mine, who have a hard time
understanding why you would choose to go through that again. Evan sees, and hears about, the struggles of
being pregnant, but doesn’t get to actually experience how amazing it really
is. I think it’s hard for a man to grasp
that. He doesn’t enjoy telling strangers
about how embryos are made, how both dads get to have biological children, how—no
matter how many times you ask or rephrase the question—the child is not and never will be biologically related to either one of us.
Although he thought it was cool and understood my desire to do it, it
wasn’t until A & A arrived from Israel and walked into the NICU to see
their babies that Evan really got it.
I’m so glad that he was there to see the looks on their faces when they
held their children for the very first time.
After seeing that love, he told me it finally all made sense to
him.
Things are starting to move along in our journey (update on
that soon!) and for the first time Evan had to actually do something. I printed off the representation agreement
for our lawyer and asked Evan to sign it.
“So, if I don’t sign this we can’t move forward?”
I’ll paraphrase the rest of the conversation:
Me:
What. The. Fuck.
We are not having this conversation right now. If you didn’t want to go through this again,
why didn’t you say something before?
Evan:
I did say something before.
I thought I made it pretty clear that I did not want to do this.
Me:
No. You said you
weren’t excited about it and it’s really stressful, but that you supported me
if I did. As usual, you pussyfoot around instead of just coming right out and
saying what you mean.
Evan:
It was pretty apparent that you were going to do this
regardless. And I know you really want
to do and how much it means to you. I’m
not about to be the one to tell you not to.
I’m not going there—I know better than that.
Awesome. Now I’m the
a-hole who just does whatever I want to with no regard to others’ feelings or
input.
As we did before, and like married couples do if they want
to stay married twelve years going, we continued our discussion, we listened to
each other, and we met in the middle.
Sometimes I feel like an ass about it, realizing that I am
pretty stubborn and that if I get in my head that I’m going to do something,
that something is going to happen regardless of what anyone else thinks. Sometimes I remember that I make plenty of
concessions for my husband, that I put up with a lot more shit than the average
wife would be willing to, and that in the grand scheme of things we’re probably
pretty close to even. Sometimes I
remember relationship advice that you can’t spend your time tallying everything
each person does trying to make the list even (e.g.: I moved across the state—leaving
a job that I loved and my family—because you wanted to, so now you have to go
through another surrogacy journey for me) This is not best practice, nor even
relatively healthy. Marriage is not
tit-for-tat, quid-pro-quo. Most
certainly it’s give and take, but we can’t keep count of the gives and the
takes. In this instance, my happiness,
the gift of a family, and the compensation make up for the stressors for my
husband. Perhaps the quid is not equal
with the quo, but it’s enough for this time.
However, in all this discussion, another topic came up, one
which Evan and I have glazed over before, but that I didn’t realize was so
impactful.
“I don’t want to share you with someone else again for
another year.”
There. It’s out. Being a surrogate has a lot of impact that
seems pretty apparent. Altering your
daily schedule for shots—doable.
Frequent pit stops on the way home for whatever I’m craving, or at least
whatever will stay down—no biggie. Back
rubs, listening to me whine about ligament stretching, tying my shoes in the
last trimester—he’s a pro by now. But this commitment to another couple should
not be overlooked. Although there are
surrogates who go through without being attached to the IPs, that is not the
case with many of us, myself included.
You become immersed in their lives and them in yours. Of course, as adults, we are immersed in a
lot of things that take us away from our families: Jobs. Friends.
Hobbies. Our damn phones and
Facebook. But few of those things hold
with them the same level of intimacy as carrying someone’s child.
Think about your own pregnancies. Think about how much that impacted your
day-to-day life, how excited you got about feeling the baby move, or how you
craved certain foods, or how you had aches and pains you never knew were
possible. Think about how you spent your
evenings telling your spouse all about it, maybe texting throughout the
day. How you sat closer so he could keep
his hand on your belly to feel the baby wiggle and kick. Now put all that excitement and communication
and attention and give it to someone besides your spouse. I still get excited when I get a message—and
especially a picture of those beautiful twins—from my first IFs. Even now, I get a little butterfly flitter
when I get a text from J or A. Carrying someone’s baby can bring an incredible
bond between two people. In talking
about the postpartum experience of surrogates, many of my friends have lamented
not about the loss of the baby—we were expecting and prepared for that—but of
the loss of the presence of the IPs now that their child is with them. Watching me share that connection and experience
with someone else was difficult for my husband the first journey, and will be again
this time. Obviously there is no sexual
attraction going on in either direction (I like to think myself a good enough
catch to turn someone straight but alas, I have yet to do so; and while they’re
both quite attractive, they’re a little too…gay for my taste). But the emotional connection is there, which
can be even more threatening to a spouse.
For a year or so, I’m going to have an open emotional affair with J
& A, all while my husband sits and watches.
I can understand his hesitation.
My husband was incredibly supportive throughout my entire process
and pregnancy, helping with shots, coming to major appointments, keeping me well
stocked with ice cream, and making periodic stops to Burgerville for my plain
cheeseburger with a side of spread. I
know that he will do the same again this time.
I know that I have placed a huge emotional burden on him, and my family,
and I am adjusting accordingly with what other actions and requests I
make. Evan has yet to meet J & A in
person, and I am hopeful that when he does he’ll love them as much as I do and
a little bit of his anxiety around this will be eased and his excitement about
helping them become fathers will take over. With jobs and three kids, Evan and
I are stretched for alone time as it is.
Especially with this new journey, I need to make an additional effort to
improve that. We’ll try to sneak away a
little more frequently, re-implement the weekly date night and maybe a weekend
getaway or two, and will hopefully do an adult-only vacation when it’s all
done. In the meantime, I will give him a
little more gratitude for all of his care and support, have a little more patience
during those moments he’s not being quite so amazing, be just a little more
loving. Because, as much as he deserves
it any other day, he especially deserves it right now.
 |
| San Francisco's Pier 39 |
Update: Our family recently went to San Francisco, where my
husband and kids got to meet J & A.
As I expected, they loved them.
Although still not as excited as I am, my husband’s anxiety has lessened
knowing what an amazing couple we’ll be helping create a family.
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