I want nothing more than for them to be parents, I really want to do the honor of helping them become parents for the first time, but ultimately I just want them to have their baby, whether it’s with me or not.
Thankful Thursday - The Road Less Traveled
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.
The transfer failed. WHAT!? How can this be? She has always gotten pregnant so easily and never experienced any complications or loss. The thought of a failure hadn’t even crossed her mind.
No one ever wants to talk about these possibilities because we don’t want to add any bad juju, negative thinking or stress. Only “sticky thoughts” and “positive vibes”
The key word from day 1 for both intended parents and the gestational surrogate is vulnerability. Yep, I know – that’s a scary word but hear me out. I often greet and welcome intended mothers into the most exclusive club of all time – a club we NEVER asked to be in. The “I need a gestational surrogate to carry my baby(ies) club.” Most often, we’ll chuckle about this but it really is the truth. In most cases the Intended Mothers have suffered tremendously trying to have a child. Infertility PTSD is a REAL thing. Then throw on top of that the fact that she can’t carry her own child (if it was ever to happen). I can instantly pull the exact moment out of my memory archives when I was told I’d need a surrogate. I’m transported back to the doctor’s office and can feel the chair beneath me, see exactly what I was wearing, the look in my husband’s eyes – all of it. It’s been over 4 years since that day and it still feels so real when it pops up. I remember feeling absolutely alienated when I received the news. I was full of so much shame and heartbreak. How in the hell can’t my body do what it’s made to do?!
Thankful Thursday – Unexpected Moments of Awe
Monday evening, sitting on the couch finally unwinding from a hellish few days with very sick twin 3 year-olds, feeling a bit lousy myself, a text popped up on my phone. Upon opening it, my breath completely left my body. Aunt Diane, my father’s youngest sister (youngest of 9 total!) had found a photo of my father at age 6 or 7 that she thought I’d enjoy. I knew it was my father, of course but I was literally staring at my son Reed’s face just a few short years from now. I was overcome with emotion, tears filled my eyes. I was completely in awe. His sweet expression so comforting to me.
My entire life, I’ve often felt like I don’t quite fit in. That folks don’t really “get” me – that I was always lingering on the edges trying to be just like everyone else, to be accepted. Weird, emotional, too serious at times and too silly at other times were things I’ve often heard about myself – especially as a child. Fast forward to trying to start a family with my husband, Wes, living on a US Naval Air Base at the time (where everyone knows everyone’s business) and of course I was again the one on the outside edges, not quite fitting in. Not only was I extremely infertile, I’d also need a gestational surrogate to carry my children – something that most people were completely unfamiliar with. As I’ve gotten older my armor has gotten stronger, I appear fearless to some, but deep down I still have an innate yearning to “fit-in” and here I was – THE most different than everyone around me in my entire life.
Thankful Thursday – The Greatest Gift
To most, 4 x 4 = 16 but in the Kennerly House 4/4/16 will always be the greatest day of our lives (and not just because Wes is a math nerd.) It’s hard to believe that today marks 3 years for Vivian Claire and Reed Robert’s arrival. Words cannot express the gratitude that radiates from Wes and myself each and every day to God and countless people that made our dreams come true after the hardest battle of our lives. Specifically, Dr. Aimee Eyvazzadeh and her relentless drive to be so amazing at what she does (only the very best Reproductive Endocrinologist in the world!) and Cat Dobbs, our former gestational surrogate and now my forever friend and business partner.
Thankful Thursday - The Road Less Traveled
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.
