Positive Vs Negative

The ten day wait is finally over. We prepared ourselves as much as possible for either result. Positive. Or Negative.

I said before that I’m always one to get the bad news out of the way first, so here it is…Unfortunately, Willow still has not learned to jump through a hoop of fire.

But the good news is that our surrogate had a positive pregnancy test!!!! So, I think it’s safe to say that makes up for it. ;0)

It’s still way too early to let our guard down and celebrate, as this result is only based on one HcG test and generally speaking things are so fragile right now. For all we know this could result in a chemical pregnancy; But just getting to this place is incredible. Even if things take a turn for the worse, it gives us confidence that we can get through this.

We have another test next week and hopefully we will see the HcG levels climb at the appropriate rate. Until then, Frankie and I will stay cautiously optimistic. Fingers crossed. 

Grow little embryo, grow! 

Kiss Vs. Tell

I’ve read through many blogs written by gay couples going through surrogacy. Many, many blogs. So many in fact that when I first discovered them it became a bit of a problem for me. I found myself sneaking behind the dumpsters at work with my smart phone just to get a fix. My fingers, callused from the touch screen, would tremble as my archaic 1G phone would slowly load the pages of blogger. (Is 1G a thing? I know 4G is supposed to be fast…so I can only assume 1G is slow.) It was almost worse than the great Facebook addiction of ’08.  Fortunately, I got help. Well, I suppose I didn’t get help so much as I simply got caught up with all of the blogs out there that were of interest to me. But hey, let’s not pick apart the details.

In any case, after I realized I hadn’t showered in a few days and I had lost five pounds because I couldn’t stop to eat, I also realized that in many of the blogs the IPs would mention getting asked one question that really offended them: “Who is going to be/who is the biological father?”  Of course, there were variations of this question. “Who’s going to be the real dad?”, “Whose material did you use?” or “Who the baby daddy?” But regardless of how it was asked, it seems the reaction was always the same: The IPs would be slightly insulted. Some would reportedly respond with a curt, “We’re not saying” Others would reply “We’re both Abcd’s father” While others would simply say, “Nunya…. None ya business!” Ok, maybe no one actually said that; but they should have! It’s really an underused comeback. But regardless of their actual response, it seemed they all had an underlying suspicion that these family members, friends, or even unassuming strangers adoring their child on the street were somehow trying to disrespect them. While they certainly have every right to feel the way they do, I can’t say I understand that feeling myself.

Is it an inappropriate question? Maybe. I suppose that’s debatable. But I don’t think people intend for it to be inappropriate or offensive. It comes down to one simple thing. Ignorance. No, not the hateful “My sister-cousin-wife says that gays are evil” type of ignorance. But the “surrogacy is a relatively new phenomenon and most people haven’t met a gay couple who have had or are having a child through surrogacy” type of ignorance. The people who ask this question aren’t sitting at home thinking, “If I one day happen to meet a gay couple expanding their family through surrogacy, what can I ask that will really get their goat?”  They’re engaging you and/or your adorable child, and when they learn that you’re preparing for a child through surrogacy, or that your child was born through surrogacy, they find themselves unprepared and so the awkwardness ensues. As for family and friends; there is probably an intimacy there that leads them to believe they’re privy to this bit of information. Either that, or they just like to watch you squirm when you feel awkward. With my friends, either is a real possibility.  

In any case, I am happy to tell you all that the genetic father or our child is going to be Nunya…none ya business. (See, you didn’t see that coming, did you?) No, in all seriousness, even if we wanted to keep it a secret, I don’t think that’s feasible.

This is a picture of my husband's hand (Well, not actually his, but you get the idea):

This is a picture of my hand (Actually, this hand is a little darker than mine...):

Needless to say, the genetic father of the child will most likely be evident at a glance. Frankie has a beautiful mocha brown skin tone...and me...well, not so much. Also, even if that wasn't a factor, we decided early on that we would be as open and honest about this experience as possible, both with our friends and with any children we are fortunate enough to have, and for us that includes this detail. So, I’m pleased to tell you our first attempt will be with Frankie’s material; and I couldn’t be happier. We ran into the problem of both of us wanting the other to be the bio dad. So, we left it up to a simple coin flip. Heads I win, tails he loses. Well, that and we looked at it practically and realized that to ensure the baby could get on his health insurance right away and to ensure he would qualify for FMLA, it would be easiest if the child was genetically related to him. We’re hopeful that our egg donor will produce enough eggs so that half can be fertilized with his material and the other half with mine. If that’s the case and we’re successful this time around, we’ll consider trying again with frozen embryos fertilized with my genetic material at a later time. But in the end, it really doesn't matter. If we're lucky enough to have a baby with his genetic material, that child will be just as much mine as his. If someone asks, "Who's the real dad?" I will happily respond by saying "We're both real dads, but the baby is genetically related to my husband." Maybe that's one of the perks of being shunned by family. You learn that unconditional love is not defined by genetics but instead by the family love creates. 

Just a couple notes:

This post was certainly not meant to offend anyone who has decided not to disclose the genetic father of their baby. That's one of the beautiful things about surrogacy. The journey is generally the same, and yet also so unique and different for each IP. There really is no right path, just the path that's right for your family. :o) 

I realized that I hadn’t actually mentioned which agency we’re using for this ride. After a lot of research we went with New Life Thailand. That said, I’ll be sure to write something up regarding how we ended up picking them.

Also…you might have been thinking that “Abcd” was just a place marker for an actual name in the example above. If you were, you were sadly wrong. It’s apparently a real name (or at least a name someone was given) pronounced “Ah-bee-suh-dee”. You know, sort of like Obesity, only starting with an A. I think it’s safe to say the list of baby names just got longer….

Our Fault Vs. Her Fault

So, here in Thailand there is an expression: ความวัวยังไม่หาย ความควายเข้ามาแทรก. (kwaam wua yang mâi hăai kwaam kwaai kâo maa sâek )

In English it means: We’re not done with the cows, and here come the water buffalo…

It has absolutely nothing to do with this post, but it’s kind of awesome. I think it’s the equivalent to “when it rains, it pours”, only it involves water buffalo which makes it infinitely better.  And since it’s currently raining cats and dogs (or cows and water buffalo?) perhaps it is pertinent after all.

In any case, “Frankie” and I are indeed in Thailand, and things are going really well. I've been to Thailand several times before, but this has been a very special trip for several reasons. I suppose I should give everyone a little back story first.

Picture it: California. 1998. An American family hosts a Thai exchange student. The American family consists of a mother, father, sister, and a dorky son. The Thai student was named Toop and quickly became a member of their family. And yes, I was that dorky kid.

After high school, I went to meet and live with his family, and found that they were all as kind as Toop and generally just awesome people. So now when I talk about Thailand, I often refer to my Thai family, as I love everyone here as I would if they were connected by blood. I will say that at first I was apprehensive about telling them I was gay, but the response I got from my Thai brother quickly assured me I had nothing to worry about:  “Justin, you are our family and we will love who you love.” So, this trip was special in that they were finally able to meet the person I love. Frankie and I are staying at their place in Bangkok, and while it’s a bit outside of the city center, the hospitality can’t be beat.

They've also been incredibly supportive of our decision to undergo surrogacy here in Thailand. You see, there are few Buddhists in Thailand…actually around 64 million or 95% of the country.  In Thai Buddhism, there is a belief that people should ทำบุญ (tam bun) or "make merit" in order to bring honor to their family and better their lives. There are many ways to make merit: you can give food to monks, give money or time to monasteries or temples, donate books or supplies to school children, etc.  But you can also give part of yourself in order to give life to others. This can be done through blood donation, organ donation, and yes, even egg donation and carrying a child for someone. So as my Thai family confirmed, donating eggs and being a surrogate mother is a great way to make merit.

Of course, that was the other thing that has made this trip so special; we officially started our surrogacy journey. We had two meetings with our agency this week: one to meet the agency coordinators and then leave our “samples”, and one to meet our egg donor. The first meeting went well, aside from the fact that we were about an hour and a half late. If you've ever been in Bangkok traffic when it goes from bad to worse, you’ll understand why that happened (the expressways can be better described as parking lots); but still, we’ll call that one our fault. But it all worked out in the end as the samples were left at the clinic and the results came back indicating that they are healthy and good to be frozen. In general, we found ourselves happy with the condition of the clinic. We are using New Life Thailand, and the clinical work is done at All IVF center. The facilities at All IVF were clean and the staff was very professional. All in all, they made having to masturbate into a cup in a public location as comfortable as possible. (Of course, there is something about Thai culture that is very service oriented. This can prove to be slightly awkward when the kind nurse walks you into the room, turns on the tv, switches to "naughty girls wrestling", hands you the remote and tells you to enjoy and to remember to lock the door...all with a smile and a polite ไหว้  (wâi) or head bow, as she thanks you and takes her leave....)  

The next day, we were scheduled to meet our egg donor at 11 am. Apparently when she agreed to meet us at that time, she forgot that she had finals this week at her university. So, she was running about two hours late. We’ll call that one her fault. But in some ways, it was strangely perfect. The agency profusely apologized on her behalf and asked us to come in later, and really all we could do was laugh given our tardiness the previous day. But when we finally met her, it was well worth the wait. Thailand is known as “the land of smiles”, and people like her help to cement that title. She had a beautiful smile, great taste in music, described herself as ambitious and strong, made good grades in school and said that she was donating eggs in order to make merit. She also donates blood on a regular basis. I can understand Thai decently and speak enough to get by, but fortunately Na who works for New Life also translates beautifully. We asked the donor many things, but there was one question in particular we were really eager to ask: If we are fortunate enough to have children through this arrangement, would she be willing to meet them one day and give them a sense of where they came from. In response, she paused, smiled, and said “Once I give this part of myself, it is gone, and I would never try to have the children for myself. But if they ever want to talk to me, I would be happy to meet them.” We couldn't have been happier with her answer.

However, I think one thing is clear. If we are fortunate enough to have children with our sperm and her eggs, we probably don't have to worry about the baby arriving early. But you know what they say: ฆ่าควายอย่าเสียดายพริก (kâa kwaai yàa sĭa daai prík); While killing a water buffalo, don't feel sorry about wasting a chili pepper.  (I think that one is "don't sweat the small stuff", but you might be on your own...) 

PS....there are also bonus points awarded to anyone who got the Golden Girls reference. Thank you for being a friend indeed. 

Two Guys Vs. The World

So, if there’s one thing we all know about life, it’s that it rarely works out the way we plan. Fortunately, humans have developed mechanisms to help us cope. It’s why when things in life don’t quite turn out right, we comfort ourselves by saying things like: “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey” or “No, if you cook it after it fell on the floor its fine. You only have to worry if it was on the floor longer than ten seconds after you’ve cooked it.”

In the same vein, when we’re faced by yet another cold, gray, rainy day we always justify said gloom with “well, we needed the rain”. But it’s around then that I find myself wondering: “it’s been raining for the last four days; do we really need more rain at this point…really?”  And even after consistently trying to fool ourselves and despite our best efforts to convince ourselves otherwise; it is the destination that matters. Otherwise, we’d just be wandering around aimlessly until we got stopped by the police so they could ask a few questions about our “unusual behavior”... But that’s a story for another day. And since we all insist that it is indeed the journey that’s important, I figured why not document it?

So, how to introduce you to our lives and our journey? Let’s try this, and stop me if you’ve heard this one: “A white boy from California and a South Asian guy from New Jersey walk into a fertility treatment center in Thailand….” Hmmm, no, that’s not quite right.

Ok, how about this one: “How many gay guys and straight women does it take to make a baby?” No, that’s not it either.

Alright: “Knock Knock. (Who’s there?) Justin. (Let me guess, Just in time?)” 

Nope, just Justin, and my husband’s name is Frankie. Well, ok, that’s not actually his name so much as the name of one of his favorite anime characters, but you’ll eventually learn that we currently live in Massachusetts and he’s a physician. Having said that, my name is as common as head lice, but his is a little too unique to throw out into the blogosphere without fear of eventually being stalked. I’m not sure exactly who would stalk us, but I’d like to imagine it would be a wheelchair bound photographer with binoculars who moves in to the building across the street. In any case, I’ll say that one translation of Frankie's name means loving and sympathetic. So in his case, what’s in a name is an incredibly accurate description of the person who bears that name. He grew up in New Jersey and is of Indian and Pakistani origin. I grew up in California and I’m pretty much as white as they come. No really, you can see my veins through my skin. It’s a little sad. Our paths crossed just over three years ago in San Francisco and our first date consisted of dinner at a diner, chardonnay at a wine bar, and bowling. He had me at “Damn! Another gutter ball!” During that first night we talked about a lot of things: our careers, our families, our friends, our mutual love of RuPual’s Drag Race, and of course how we both wanted children one day.

Our relationship progressed, and soon enough, we were with kitten. Willow has been the Queen of our house ever since, and she rules with an iron fist. Eventually we found ourselves moving across the country from California to Massachusetts, so we could live in a state that would allow us to marry. Being married has always been important to both of us, and we were tired of our cats’ judgmental nature. We were almost certain she was giving us dirty looks because we were living together out of wedlock, but it turns out she just does it because she’s an ass. (Who we still spoil to no end.) 

We were married in September of last year, and it’s been the two of us ever since. Just two guys vs. the world; and we’re ready to take on whatever the world may throw at us.

Now, we find ourselves taking the next step, flying across the globe to a country that will allow us to enter into an affordable surrogacy contract and hopefully make a baby. We had originally picked a different clinic, and even a different country to help us make this happen, but like I said earlier, life rarely works out the way you plan.  So, now we find ourselves picking an egg donor, a surrogate, and getting ready to take the journey to Thailand. It’s one of the most stressful, exciting, and overwhelming times in our lives.  I know that this part, the journey, is supposed to be what counts; but if I’m being honest, all I really care about this time around is the destination.