I guess it’s fair to say that life presented the option to me to take “the road less traveled” at a very young age, even though that road was one that didn’t fit into my meticulously thought out, life “plan” at the time. My father passed away after a nearly life long battle with Lupus when I was barely 16 years old. Like any child that has lost a parent, I was devastated. Mostly grief stricken by the loss of such a significant person in my life but also completely distraught over all of the major life events that would no longer play out like I had always imagined, daydreamed about, even planned and in some instances, Type A orchestrated in my mind, since I was a small child. My father wouldn’t see me graduate from high school, move me into my first dorm, cheer me on during undergraduate graduation and then see me get my graduate degree, as well. I’d be walking down the aisle one day, alone. He’d never get the chance to see himself in my child’s eyes as he held him for the very first time. Growing up with a chronically ill parent – you have a tendency to daydream about the future. You imagine better days, celebrations with no need for medications or dialysis treatments, or Dad passing out and being rushed to the hospital in the middle of Christmas Eve Mass. All of my dreams seemed to vanish in a matter of moments that sunny, March morning that I watched my father die in our home.
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Times were tough those first few years after he passed, but then I realized that while it didn’t happen the way I had always imagined, I did in fact still graduate from high school, moved into my first dorm room, finished college with honors and even made it into graduate school! I missed him so during all of these milestones but I adapted to my new life circumstances, always trying to make him proud from above. I let go of what I thought all of these experiences “should” look like and just let them unfold as they came – albeit with some resistance popping up from time to time.
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Fast forward to the age of 24 – just starting out my career in Chicago, I was diagnosed with Lupus, just like my father. The same disease that had ruled my entire life as a child, adolescent and even young adulthood. Again – not what I imagined my twenties to look like. I was scared, angry and honestly confused about “why” this was happening. But again, those feelings passed, I changed direction, took the diagnosis in stride and kept pressing toward achieving everything I’d ever wanted in life. I never imagined it would be with intermittent breaks for resting, restoring and trying to figure out how to best navigate and treat Lupus, but I digress.
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And again, just a few short years ago – another massive curveball. I had met and married the “one,” and had a successful career that allowed me to do pretty much anything I wanted, whenever I wanted. It was time to start a family! I’d spent so many years making sure I didn’t get pregnant but now that I decided it was time – it should just happen immediately, right? Ha. In my early thirties, I was diagnosed with premature ovarian failure, high active killer cells and eventually Anticardiolipin Antibody Syndrome. By the grace of God and an amazing doctor – we somehow got the last few golden eggs out of my shriveling ovaries and astonishingly, after 4 rounds of IVF, we had 8 genetically normal, highly graded, perfect embryos. Yes!! Then it was miscarriage after miscarriage, heartbreak and so much loss came as we tried to implant the embryos back into my own body, one by one. My newest diagnosis, often found in many lupus patients, Anticardiolipin Antibody Syndrome, was the culprit. Essentially my immune system was cutting off blood supply to my womb Every. Damn. Time. I was pregnant after an embryo transfer - no matter how many supplemental meds we pumped my body with in hopes of keeping the pregnancies. I was told by two amazing doctors in the world of Reproductive Endocrinology and Immunology, that I would need a gestational surrogate if I wanted a chance at having a child that was genetically mine. This curveball was the hardest hitting of my life. So much shame and guilt around it all. I felt like a failure, that my body was broken and that in some ways I wasn’t even really a woman. It was one of the hardest times I had ever endured in my entire life. Period. But when the dust settled and the light started to peak through again, as always, I changed direction. I let go of my “plans” of what motherhood and becoming a parent “should” look like, I gave up caring about what others would think and accepted my new path. Yes, I’d need a gestational surrogate to carry my children. No, it’s not something I was hoping or planned for but thank God it was an option. And thank God my early life lesson of losing my father at 16 had given me the strength and courage to again, take the “road less traveled.”
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~ Mary Kennerly, Founder + Former Intended Mother