The eggs in my ovaries made me valuable. Without them, there is no in vitro fertilization, no surrogate mothers, no baby-making business. As it unfolded, I began to feel like a commodity rather than a human being, a means to an end on the infant assembly line.
Lately, my decisions have been a bit more daunting -- ah, err... make that... life changing. Like my choice to go ahead at age 45 and try one last time to get pregnant.
Laurie Miller offers a cautionary tale about gestational surrogacy between close friends. Expectations and disappointment ended their friendship, and the two women never saw it coming.
"How do you like your eggs?" is usually a question I am asked at my neighborhood Denny's by a waitress names Wanda. It's not the sort of question I expect to hear from my doctor.
Mindfulness has been a buzzy word lately. For me, living mindfully is about being awake.
As crazy as it may sound, I actually want to be pregnant. If the only thing I was missing was one good egg... then I needed to start looking outside the box (pun intended). And as I was about to discover, good eggs are actually not that hard to find... if you know where to look.
Three years of failed fertility treatments makes you re-think a few things. If I used a donor egg, would I love that child any less? If I carry that baby for nine months, can anyone tell me it's not mine? Do I think my kid is going to care that mommy needed a little help to bring him or her into the world?
Several friends asked me if I am worried about getting fat. No, actually, I am more terrified about what will happen to my lady bits during and after birth. Thanks, Grandma.
I hold your hand if you are a mother who can no longer see, touch or hold your child in your arms. I walk with you. In silence. I walk with you in respect. And I find a way to travel the depths of sorrow you have to live with every single day. Especially on Mother's Day.
I have an impossible wish this Mother's Day. I wish the holiday could somehow honor a group of women to which I once belonged, and for whom the day is particularly difficult.
I had just decided the word for my 36th year would be "love." And that evening, my heart was captured by a young woman named...Lovelle.
Pregnancy is a polarizing topic in my estimation. I say that because I'm one of the folks out there who would love to be a father. My firstborn child would've been due this month.
In terms of having all of the time in the world, please think of me as the "Ghost of Infertility Future." I'm wearing a dark cloak pointing at your age.
This is the week that I was supposed to give birth to my first child and celebrate my first Mother's Day as a mom.
About three years ago I went public with a very personal battle. At the time, I had just turned 42. I had a great, big life... but I didn't have a little one in it. I had always wanted to have a baby.
I know you worked really hard on that homily about Mother's Day/Father's Day. It's a time of joy and appreciation and community for almost everyone you address. You may not know this, but there are likely other outliers receiving your message.