This morning was my BETA draw… and while that is important and this blog has mostly turned into “the adventures of a surrogate” blog, it is still, technically called “Monika’s Musings,” so I am at liberty to talk about whatever is on my mind. Bare with me… it does come full circle I promise.
I have previously posted about the hectic schedule that runs our family (no I did not grammatically screw that up- the schedule runs us! NOT the other way around). From the second the alarm sounds in the morning my husband and I are in a critical, minute to minute rush to get things done or get people where they need to be and any break from that routine can make things a bit crazy.
For instance, this morning, in order to make it to my appointment at 8:00 I HAVE to leave the house at 7:10 (I chose the clinic closer to the school where I work so that I wouldn’t have to miss work too often). But my husband and I tag team the morning- he gets breakfast ready while I get kids ready. We eat together and then help the kids get their belongings and themselves loaded into the car. I drop them off and he manages the two separate pick ups. We are a fine tuned machine in the morning. But again, today, due to the circumstances, my husband had to do most of that on his own including both the drop off and the pick ups. (Though, in my defense, I did still get the kids dressed and into their seats at the table, I just had to peace out immediately after that to get to the appointment).
Jesse not only manages all of that with grace and ease, the dear man also made me a “to go” breakfast so that I wouldn’t be hungry all morning!
I have caught myself one of the best men on the face of the planet. Seriously!
I often find myself in conversations with other women who are ragging on their husbands for an assortment of different issues. They don’t help clean the house, they aren’t very helpful with the kids, they don’t seem attentive… the list goes on and on. And in those situations I just have to sit there quietly and shake my head. I can’t participate in the man-bashing… my husband is amazing.
I am not saying we don’t ever disagree or miscommunicate- we do. I think all marriages do/will. But, by and large, I feel luckier by the day to have him in my life. He is my perfect match. He is my anchor. He is my equal. I love, honor, and respect him more today than the day I married him.
Which, coincidentally, happens to be 5 years ago this Friday.
A little back story. When we were planning our wedding ceremony we wanted to do something that was a little more unique than the typical blending of the sands or the unity candle (I am not dogging on these BTW, they just weren’t for us). My husband and I opted to do a Wine Box Ceremony (which you can read more about here). The gist is this: on the eve of your nuptials you write a letter to your spouse telling them all the reasons you love them and appreciate them and then seal it in an envelope. Then during the ceremony you seal your favorite bottle of wine inside the box along with the two letters. My dad, who married us, told an amazing anecdote about my grandparents generation- “The Fix It Generation” (when something breaks, they fixed it, they didn’t discard it and buy another) and then explained in the ceremony that if, over the next few years, our marriage seemed to be breaking, or we ended up in a fight so large we were considering the prospect of discarding the union, we were supposed to break open the box, share the bottle of wine, and read the letters we wrote one another and remember why we married one another, why we fell in love, what we value about the other person. In short, if we felt like we were breaking we are to remember to fix it!
On the happier side, if we made it to five years without a fight of that magnitude, we were to celebrate by drinking the wine and reading the letters and then put in a new bottle and replace with new letters along with the first ones.
So- we are at FIVE YEARS and I am proud to say that our box is still sealed and its contents happily stowed inside. The sad thing though, is that we have been looking forward to this anniversary for… well… five years. We were super excited to break that puppy open, drink our wine and read our love notes now with greater perspective… BUT I CAN”T DRINK. (Insert all the teary emoji’s ever)
And, as if that weren’t bad enough by itself… the clinic does not want me having an orgasm until after the fetal heartbeat is detected. Do you know what that means? Here, let me clarify… not only do I not get to drink the wine I have been so looking forward to but I don’t even get to have sex with my husband on this milestone anniversary!!! Que the tears:
Now, I totally understand that what I am doing is worth it. And I am so so so happy to be doing this for these IP’s, I think the world of them and I am so happy to be on this journey with them (as is my husband!). But allow me to be whiny for a second, please. I mean, you see what I mean. Right?!?
But, again, focusing on this negative stuff doesn’t do me any good at all, so now that it is off my chest, lets focus on the positive (literally) for a minute:
Lets hope that this strong line means that I will have a good BETA number and things will work out this go round! We’ve been on this merry-go-round before though and it didn’t quite work out the way we had hoped, so cross some fingers, toes, what have you for us, will ya?
I will update later today with the actual BETA numbers (mostly for historical purposes but also for the people that might care about all that jazz).
PS- for those of you that are allowed to drink and have sex, please consider making a donation to your body of both of those in strong quantities on my behalf, please. Okay? Great. Thanks.