Letter to the Dragon: The Birds and the Bees

Dearest Dragon,

I feel the big questions of where we come from and who we are never stop in life - but the first thread of the tale comes from hearing your conception and birth story. Your arrival to this planet, like your sister, involved a team of people and medical magic. Neither one of you arrived after a heated sweaty snuggle in the back of a truck. Paperwork, lawyers, medical professionals, petri dishes, ultrasounds, and lots of prayer created the circumstances whereby you could chose us and we chose you - and here you are.

You know that Momma carried you in my belly and that I have a scar from where they cut you out of me. We have not yet figured out how to tell you that your existence involves another woman as well. Your beautiful egg donor - we don’t even know her name. This is what we wrote to her at the time of her choosing us (and for the nonedited version, please ask your father):

November 2015

Dear Miss, 

We are thrilled to be able to share a bit about who and what we are all about. There are no words to express how grateful we are for your generosity and what your donation means to us and our family. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

You are sharing so much with us during the process it seems more than fair to share information with you in return. This is a brave new world of parenthood and medical innovations - we find that open communication is a great way to brush the cobwebs out of the closets. We are both grateful that you would consider meeting any progeny when they become 18 in case they have questions. 

The tall, spectacle - wearing husband

He grew up in a home of 3 siblings, mostly in New York State. They raised sheepdogs for show and he spent a lot of time playing soccer and golf. After graduation from college he was curious about either teaching or medicine. He spent a year teaching kindergarten in Europe, then he decided that medicine was his passion. Returning to the states, he did his training (at which time he met his wife or ..... she met him) and eventually became a board certified surgeon. He enjoys gardening, reading, cooking, running, soccer, travel, and card games.

The tall, nose ring - pierced wife

She grew up in a home of 2 siblings. Raised in the heart of Washington DC, she loves to this day walking around cities and people watching. After her graduate work (in english, not surprising given the nod to Shakespeare above) she taught social studies in the inner city. After a few hiccups, she realized that her real passion was in sustainable food and has been involved in that world ever since. She enjoys knitting, dancing, yoga, reading, painting, travel, singing loudly, and cooking.

The couple now live in New York State on a homestead where they are raising chickens, veggies, fruit, and sheep (sporadically).

Why we are here

The couple married 10 years ago and always planned on having a family. Two weeks before the wife's 30th birthday she was diagnosed with Stage IV cancer. She started chemotherapy right away (after the husband researched that the chemotherapy cocktail should not affect her fertility). After six months of chemotherapy the cancer was still in evidence. At which time, the oncologists agreed to push back the bone marrow transplant until she was able to harvest eggs. 

They were able to freeze 3 embryos. Fast forwarding this tale past stories of radiation, trial protocols, the bone marrow transplant, chemotherapy, treatments abroad, special diets, meditation, and lots of prayers… the wife's ovaries officially go on hiatus. She is declared menopausal.

2.5 years ago, one of the couple's friends agreed to be the surrogate to carry one of the embryos (the wife was undergoing radiation at the time and did not have permission from her oncologist). 

The first defrosted embryo was born in 2014 - hale and hearty - to the absolute happiness of all. This past summer the couple defrosted the other two embryos and placed them into the wife (who now has permission from her oncologist). They were not viable. 

Both the husband and wife feel blessed and honored to be parents. They also treasure the relationship they have with their siblings and would want that sibling relationship for their child.

Why we like you

What drew us to you originally is that you are physically very like the wife (even the same blood type). You are also overeducated (like we are) and athletic. 

What pulled us in further to you is your sense of humor, your personality (the wife is extroverted as well), your ability to laugh at yourself, and your obvious sense of adventure. You come across as an individual savoring the essence of life and enjoying it to the fullest - that approach to life sings to us because it resonates with our own.

Having never embarked on this particular adventure before - we do not have a sense of protocol or guidelines for how to behave. Please see our hearts smiling at you via this communique and our eyes shining. 

If you would like to continue this conversation, we would be happy to do so. If you would like us to tell you more about us, we would be happy to do so. If you would like to meet in person, we would be happy to do so. If you would like to never say hi directly again, we would be happy to do so.

We are in the unique position of embarking on something very intimate with an individual, (you) with whom we have never spoken or met. Expanding upon your maxim of helping others as a golden rule - we would posit that rule comes from all of us being connected in the Universe. As such, though we have never spoken, we are connected through that spark and grateful to it for you.

We are at a loss for how to end such a letter (see above, no guidelines). In lieu of a poem or inspirational thank you quote - we will say that the gift you are bestowing upon us is not being taken lightly. We honor the import of your decision and honor you. 

Thank you. Ad infinitum thank you. 

Wife and Husband and Child

So, my dearest Dragon, this young lady underwent the process of egg retrieval and your father did his deed (and yes, that room feels as odd as you imagine it would be, thumb eared magazines and all). All three of us traveled to the clinic and your father went in and out of one entrance to contribute his part in this process and the young lady had a separate entrance and exit. The Bean and I played with blocks in the waiting room.

I remember being fascinated by the legal issues involved egg donation. For your sister, being carried by K, we had a pre-birth injunction from a judge so that your father and I could adopt her and change the name of the mother on the birth certificate. For you, because it is illegal to sell or purchase a human being (the lawyer shared this fact with me by saying, “ever since the Emancipation Proclamation,” holy shit, yes), we were compensating the young lady for her inconvenience. That worked for us.

This time I was on the receiving end of shots, creams, pills, and scans. It was cool to see the inside of my uterus, in color, like we were spelunking, thank you for that. All is set for the implantation day. I fly out to the clinic and Tia drives down from Chicago to keep me company. The morning of the implantation I woke up super early and walked around and around the big beautiful park in front of the hotel (think Central Park-ish).

The part I remember most of the implantation was the joke one of the nurses said in the procedure room. Two bright lights were being gently placed into the back of my uterus.

“I bet you never thought you would get pregnant with 3 women in the room.” She quips to me.

I cracked up as the doctor deposited you into the dark warmth. You joined our family hearing and feeling your Momma’s laugh in your tiny cells and big soul. It makes me so happy that giggles welcomed you to this family.

I loved being pregnant. I felt wonderful. I felt strong and primal and beautiful. Source energy was running through both of us and it was glorious.

Around 38 weeks I started doing acupuncture to make sure that you would not stick around too long. I was not interested in being induced. The Thursday morning before your Friday due date, your father and I took our early morning walk up and down the lane and I feel a swoosh of liquid, not a lot, just a little.

“Hmmm, today might be the day.” I smiled at your father.

All day, I felt flutterings fluttering more. I met your father at the OB in the afternoon. As I was getting ready to go, the UPS man comes to the door.

“I am having a baby!”

“I can see that.” He looked at my belly and smiled.

“No, I mean, I am HAVING A BABY. I am going to the doctor right now.”

“Oh wow, okay, good luck.” He scuttled away.

I took the trash to the dump on my way into the village.

“Jon, I am having a baby! Today is the day!”

“WHY ARE YOU HERE?!” The kind man was appalled.

“Well, I think we are going to be busy very very soon. So I wanted to just get this done.”

“Oh for goodness sake, give me those bags.”

The OB told us that we still had time so we went out to dinner. We sat at the counter of our favorite burger joint with the Bean and I started feeling regular contractions. The contractions get more and more intense and that night we go to the hospital around 11:30. L comes in to be with the Bean and your father and I embarked on the journey of labor.

On the knees, in the bath, vomiting, hydration, crying, deep belly moaning - “What is your pain level ma’am? On a scale from 1-10.”

"It is 0, go away.”

At one point I asked for a partial block which afforded a few hours of relief and I shared with the amazing midwife my answer. “People keep on asking me what my pain level is. I have experienced 10 and that was in the hospital when cancer cells were dying in my bones and the pain was so intense I was screaming. This pain, at the end of it, I will have a baby. A BABY.”

A few hours later they told me that I had a choice of a c-section right away or after pushing for a few hours. I thought to myself, wait a minute, I have a 2 year old, this is not a real choice. Your body was supine instead of prone (such good vocabulary words) and your big head was stuck. Modern medicine saved both of us that day - another rebalancing of the medical justice scale.

This morning you did the happy dance after blueberries. Feet shuffling fast, arms pumping, braids swinging - you and your sister laughing as you dance.

Momma’s laughter surrounded you and held you for those first seconds of your life in my body - and your laughter surrounds and holds your Momma now. The soundtrack of your life in my soul is the sound of your giggle.

Thank you for being my beloved Dragon.