I'm still here. I have lots to say, and so much to tell all of you. But today, today is a celebration.
Today Bunny turns one.
A year ago today, I leaned on my husband as we talked about baseball and pie during contractions. My doula was a saint. And there were a pair of anxious folks off to the side of the room.
A year ago today, I was surrounded by love. I wanted to go home, but at 8 centimeters I leaned into all the support and joy that was filling the room and trusted my body.
A year ago today, I watched a woman hold for the first time, the baby she never thought she would have. I watched a fresh new dad, cut the cord of his fresh new baby.
A year ago today, I looked through tear filled eyes as a new mama and a new dad fell face first into unthinkable, unconditional love with their son. We all had tear filled eyes, actually.
I remember looking over at my OB, the OB I love so dearly, and whispering to her that the look on their faces was everything. That new parent ecstasy, that is what brought me to surrogacy. That the look made every contraction, and push, and every 9.8 pounds, worth each minute. She nodded because she saw it too.
I've said it before, but I don't know if I can ever say it enough. Surrogacy has given me just as much as it has given them. I am honored to have brought Bunny into this world. I am honored to have literally carried hopes and dreams under my heart, and to have brought him into the arms of his parents.
Today Bunny turns one. I wish him... I wish all of us, The Happiest of Birth Days.
Until next time,
Carmen
Thursday, October 30, 2014
Sunday, August 10, 2014
I'm still here.
We've had a lot of changes around here, but don't think for one second I forgot about you dear blog friends. I've missed you all. In my time away I've grieved some grief, soaked up some sun, laughed with the littles, and bought a house and dog with my dear husband. You know, just normal summer stuff. Here's a photo recap. I'll be back soon to fill in the blanks.
^ this is Lincoln. he has stolen all of our heats with his wee wrinkly grin.
^ this is our fist selfie has homeowners.... two minutes of homeownership and grinning like fools.
^ this is our new home.
^ this is a dream come true. though the picture quality is poor, this photo is everything I've been waiting for.
Be back soon,
Carmen
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
the things I would have said.
I didn't write the eulogy, but if I had.....
I've thought about this for the last month since my uncle died. I've thought about which words I might use to talk about his life and his death, and about which stories I might tell that do the best job of telling the true story of who he was.
I've written and erased, and typed and deleted, before I realized that I was being completely ridiculous.
I was making entirely too difficult something which, in fact, is quite simple.
This is what I would have said:
He showed up.
As a friend he showed up, always ready to party like a rockstar. Or help you move. Or celebrate a Vikings win (or strategize for the next game, when they'll certainly win).
He showed up in his career, day after day. Project after project.
He showed up for his family. For his wife - for nearly 30 years, a marriage filled with love, laughter, grace... and some more laughter. I learned from him and Jackie what that looks like, and it's beautiful.
Wonderful stuff, right? A beautiful life... But we're all still waiting.
[here I would pause and look up and around the full-to-the-brim church]
These are all honorable ways to be remembered - but none of these descriptions quite capture how you will carry his memory do they?
I bet you will remember how he showed up for you when you needed him.
I'm guessing he showed up for you when you needed a friend. Or maybe he showed up to watch you play football, or to watch you cheer, or maybe a swim meet, or dance recital? That who he was - he showed up, usually with great energy, or a great idea, or just the right thing to say to shine light on a tricky situation.
Or maybe not.
Maybe he had empty arms and nothing to say. But you know what?
He still showed up - with a hug as big as his presence.
But you all know this already, that's why we're all here today. We are here today to show up for Dave, one last time, just like he has shown up for all of us.
I'm heartbroken that his life has ended. I'm sad for myself, and for Jackie, and for his children, and granddaughters, and all who loved him. At the end of the day, this church will be empty, we all are going to leave here today and be sad about saying goodbye to someone we love. We'll walk away, and grieve our grief, and live our lives. And time will pass and the sorrow will dull to a fine ache. But that's not the end. Not even a little bit. Every time we show up and are present for the people we love, he'll be there too. That is love, and love is eternal.
"Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is not separation." Rumi
I've thought about this for the last month since my uncle died. I've thought about which words I might use to talk about his life and his death, and about which stories I might tell that do the best job of telling the true story of who he was.
I've written and erased, and typed and deleted, before I realized that I was being completely ridiculous.
I was making entirely too difficult something which, in fact, is quite simple.
This is what I would have said:
He showed up.
As a friend he showed up, always ready to party like a rockstar. Or help you move. Or celebrate a Vikings win (or strategize for the next game, when they'll certainly win).
He showed up in his career, day after day. Project after project.
He showed up for his family. For his wife - for nearly 30 years, a marriage filled with love, laughter, grace... and some more laughter. I learned from him and Jackie what that looks like, and it's beautiful.
Wonderful stuff, right? A beautiful life... But we're all still waiting.
[here I would pause and look up and around the full-to-the-brim church]
These are all honorable ways to be remembered - but none of these descriptions quite capture how you will carry his memory do they?
I bet you will remember how he showed up for you when you needed him.
I'm guessing he showed up for you when you needed a friend. Or maybe he showed up to watch you play football, or to watch you cheer, or maybe a swim meet, or dance recital? That who he was - he showed up, usually with great energy, or a great idea, or just the right thing to say to shine light on a tricky situation.
Or maybe not.
Maybe he had empty arms and nothing to say. But you know what?
He still showed up - with a hug as big as his presence.
But you all know this already, that's why we're all here today. We are here today to show up for Dave, one last time, just like he has shown up for all of us.
I'm heartbroken that his life has ended. I'm sad for myself, and for Jackie, and for his children, and granddaughters, and all who loved him. At the end of the day, this church will be empty, we all are going to leave here today and be sad about saying goodbye to someone we love. We'll walk away, and grieve our grief, and live our lives. And time will pass and the sorrow will dull to a fine ache. But that's not the end. Not even a little bit. Every time we show up and are present for the people we love, he'll be there too. That is love, and love is eternal.
"Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is not separation." Rumi
Sunday, May 11, 2014
a poem for today.
It's Mother's Day today. It was a lovely day, despite the rainy cold weather. I checked my email after tucking the boys snugly in bed, and I found this in my inbox from Jill:
Carmen,
Something I wanted to share with you...
"The moment a child is born the mother is also born
she never existed before
the woman existed but the mother, never
a mother is something absolutely new..."
-Rajneesh
Thank you Carmen...forever, thank you.
Sometimes you're a surrogate. And sometimes your eyes well up when you realize, again and again, how surrogacy has given you just as much as it has given them.
Happy Mother's Day,
Carmen
Carmen,
Something I wanted to share with you...
"The moment a child is born the mother is also born
she never existed before
the woman existed but the mother, never
a mother is something absolutely new..."
-Rajneesh
Thank you Carmen...forever, thank you.
Sometimes you're a surrogate. And sometimes your eyes well up when you realize, again and again, how surrogacy has given you just as much as it has given them.
Happy Mother's Day,
Carmen
Thursday, May 1, 2014
sometimes you're a surrogate : what people say part 1
When you're pregnant, there are lots of people who want to talk to you about being pregnant. When you're pregnant with a baby that isn't yours ALL the people want to talk to you about being pregnant. I figured I'd talk about some of the wonderful and wonderfully interesting things I've heard when talking to people about being a surrogate.
The number one thing people say, or have said, is "Won't that be hard to give up/part with/say goodbye to/hand over/go home without the baby?
My simple standard response was something along the lines of, "Not in the way you'd think. The goal of this whole process was to put a baby in the arms of this couple who I care so much about, and I think that will be incredibly exciting."
I do not, and have never, wanted to keep baby Bunny. My pregnancy felt very different, because I did not bond with the baby in my belly like I did with my boys. Before Bunny flew home I loved snuggling, smooching, and cuddling with the squishy little babe, but I loved it even more to watch the new parents swoon over their new addition.
The more complicated answer is, of course it's hard. But still not in the way you'd think. It's hard because I just did the most fantastic thing ever, and now it's over. It's hard because I've grown to know and absolutely love this family, and as it turns out, they live on the other side of the country. It's hard because we all share this amazing, unique bond, we've been through a magnificently long, exciting, intensely emotional process together and when it was over we gave hugs and they boarded a plane home.
Competing for the next most common statements would be, "I could never do that!" and "I've always wanted to do that!"
To the friends in the former camp I would usually try to emphasize the scope of the process. Folks tend to oversimplify gestational surrogacy in their heads, but this is simply because they don't know how extensive the matching/legal/psych and medical screening/cycle prep can be. So I elude to how "It's quite a lengthy process to get going, but once the serious busywork is out of the way it's so rewarding."
Often I'm tempted to say, "It's not like I just decided I wanted to be a surrogate and then went and did it." Except, that's exactly what happened. But I want to be sure to talk about the fullness of what the adventure entails, just in case they are serious about investigating a surro journey and honestly want to know more.
To those who say, "Oh, I could never do that!" I usually agree with them with "You know, you're probably right." I'm not attempting to sound pretentious, I swear! I always follow it with a dialogue about how each individual knows themself best and if they don't think they'd would enjoy a surrogacy, that's a-OK. The extensive, emotional, and complex process isn't for everyone, and there is nothing wrong with that.
If you hate pregnancy, you probably won't want to be a surrogate. If you honestly think you
would have a difficult time emotionally, surrogacy probably isn't for you. Admitting that surrogacy isn't a good fit for you is a million times braver than ignoring these things only to realize you were right and really shouldn't have proceeded with a surrogate pregnancy afterall.
I'll leave you with a short and simple question that I've gotten three times only. And thank goodness. "So did you have to have sex with someone else?"
On that note, see you all soon!
Carmen
The number one thing people say, or have said, is "Won't that be hard to give up/part with/say goodbye to/hand over/go home without the baby?
My simple standard response was something along the lines of, "Not in the way you'd think. The goal of this whole process was to put a baby in the arms of this couple who I care so much about, and I think that will be incredibly exciting."
I do not, and have never, wanted to keep baby Bunny. My pregnancy felt very different, because I did not bond with the baby in my belly like I did with my boys. Before Bunny flew home I loved snuggling, smooching, and cuddling with the squishy little babe, but I loved it even more to watch the new parents swoon over their new addition.
The more complicated answer is, of course it's hard. But still not in the way you'd think. It's hard because I just did the most fantastic thing ever, and now it's over. It's hard because I've grown to know and absolutely love this family, and as it turns out, they live on the other side of the country. It's hard because we all share this amazing, unique bond, we've been through a magnificently long, exciting, intensely emotional process together and when it was over we gave hugs and they boarded a plane home.
The best way I can think to describe the hard part, isn't hard at all, I'd say emotional. It's the single most emotional process I've ever been a part of. I feel like that word is packed, for me it is anyway, but when I use it here I'm doing so to convey that exact thing. Surrogacy is so packed with emotion, but in the absolute best way I could have imagined.
Competing for the next most common statements would be, "I could never do that!" and "I've always wanted to do that!"
To the friends in the former camp I would usually try to emphasize the scope of the process. Folks tend to oversimplify gestational surrogacy in their heads, but this is simply because they don't know how extensive the matching/legal/psych and medical screening/cycle prep can be. So I elude to how "It's quite a lengthy process to get going, but once the serious busywork is out of the way it's so rewarding."
Often I'm tempted to say, "It's not like I just decided I wanted to be a surrogate and then went and did it." Except, that's exactly what happened. But I want to be sure to talk about the fullness of what the adventure entails, just in case they are serious about investigating a surro journey and honestly want to know more.
To those who say, "Oh, I could never do that!" I usually agree with them with "You know, you're probably right." I'm not attempting to sound pretentious, I swear! I always follow it with a dialogue about how each individual knows themself best and if they don't think they'd would enjoy a surrogacy, that's a-OK. The extensive, emotional, and complex process isn't for everyone, and there is nothing wrong with that.
If you hate pregnancy, you probably won't want to be a surrogate. If you honestly think you
would have a difficult time emotionally, surrogacy probably isn't for you. Admitting that surrogacy isn't a good fit for you is a million times braver than ignoring these things only to realize you were right and really shouldn't have proceeded with a surrogate pregnancy afterall.
I'll leave you with a short and simple question that I've gotten three times only. And thank goodness. "So did you have to have sex with someone else?"
Now, I try not to get upset when I've been asked this because obviously these people really don't have
the slightest clue about surrogacy, or they have been terribly misinformed previously. Surrogacy never, ever, involves sex. If someone tells you differently, they are wrong. People operating under this misconception are most often referring to a planned adoption, which is not, in any way whatsoever, the same thing.
On that note, see you all soon!
Carmen
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
sometimes you're a surrogate. six months later.
Coming up next week will be Bunny's six month birthday. What?!
as it turns out, I'm enjoying not being pregnant more than I anticipated. don't get me wrong, it was fantastic while it lasted but it is so fun to have my body back to myself.
except I saw a teeeeny tiiiiiny baby at a restaurant when we were having dinner the other night and it kind of made my uterus ache.
but it wasn't anything so serious that a glass of wine couldn't cure it.
during my surrogate pregnancy I frequented an online surrogacy forum, afterwards I still kept up with it fairly often. as of lately though, I have noticed that I don't log on as often as I used to. while not a huge deal, it reminds me that the adventure now lies in the past and I'm continuing to move forward.
the beauty of the adventure permeates into my daily life still, and I think it always will. that being said, moving forward is the tune I'm marching to these days.
what do I mean by this? well, after an endeavor as life-changing as surrogacy, I was so deeply steeped into the journey that it flooded into my daily life, even when it really didn't anymore. that disconnect was odd and it felt funny in my life. as time has elapsed, that disconnect is fading quickly into this pride and joy that sit still in my heart. it no longer feels as though it's a big secret I carry in my pocket, but more like a highlighted poem written down in a journal.
this experience so special, and so much a part of who I am, but it's ok to let it separate from the surface of my days. it won't go anywhere.
this is largely what doing this series is about, for me, anyway. by bringing my experiences out to be written and read, it brings them out to a space where I recognize that I can let these memories peek out from my heart and soul, while disregarding the irrational fear that they'll sneak away forever.
until next time,
Carmen
I can't even believe that it has been half a year already. Let me tell you, it's a strange feeling. There are days when I can't believe it's been six months already, but there are other days where it feels so far removed from my current day-to-day activities that it seems like it has been so much longer.
I've thought about how I would write this half-year check up, and I've started it multiple times and then erased and restarted. Shockingly, I'm not often short on words, but writing about my surrogacy sometimes leaves me searching for just the right way to say things. There is so much to say, so much to talk about... it often feels too overwhelming to try to pinpoint the experience into words. It feels limiting to even try. But you all know that I'm always up for a good challenge.
I've decided to to a series here on the blog, to chronicle the journey in retrospect. I did a fairly good job checking in about the pregnancy and delivery, but I thought I'd dig in a little bit and give a fuller picture about the depth of the journey. It only makes sense that I'll call the series Sometimes You're a Surrogate. So those entries will be coming soon, but for today I've got a broad rundown of the six month milestone.
six months later I am feeling wonderful.
this applies to emotionally and physically.
my energy levels are better than ever and my post-partum complications are long resolved.
emotionally I am wonderfully content.
my body is returning to its un-pregnant shape, more importantly though, I have an abundance of newly found appreciation for my body and its capabilities.
my relationship with Jack, Jill, and Bunny is so much more than I ever could have expected.
we text often, talk on the phone, and facetime here and there, and I so cherish all three.
life at home with the guys is great, and they love seeing pictures of Bunny and hearing Jack and Jill talk about their new baby.
lately I've had a few experiences when I get to talk about my surrogacy with people who didn't know about it, and it's just as fun as I thought it would be.
my relationship with Jack, Jill, and Bunny is so much more than I ever could have expected.
we text often, talk on the phone, and facetime here and there, and I so cherish all three.
life at home with the guys is great, and they love seeing pictures of Bunny and hearing Jack and Jill talk about their new baby.
lately I've had a few experiences when I get to talk about my surrogacy with people who didn't know about it, and it's just as fun as I thought it would be.
as it turns out, I'm enjoying not being pregnant more than I anticipated. don't get me wrong, it was fantastic while it lasted but it is so fun to have my body back to myself.
except I saw a teeeeny tiiiiiny baby at a restaurant when we were having dinner the other night and it kind of made my uterus ache.
but it wasn't anything so serious that a glass of wine couldn't cure it.
during my surrogate pregnancy I frequented an online surrogacy forum, afterwards I still kept up with it fairly often. as of lately though, I have noticed that I don't log on as often as I used to. while not a huge deal, it reminds me that the adventure now lies in the past and I'm continuing to move forward.
the beauty of the adventure permeates into my daily life still, and I think it always will. that being said, moving forward is the tune I'm marching to these days.
what do I mean by this? well, after an endeavor as life-changing as surrogacy, I was so deeply steeped into the journey that it flooded into my daily life, even when it really didn't anymore. that disconnect was odd and it felt funny in my life. as time has elapsed, that disconnect is fading quickly into this pride and joy that sit still in my heart. it no longer feels as though it's a big secret I carry in my pocket, but more like a highlighted poem written down in a journal.
this experience so special, and so much a part of who I am, but it's ok to let it separate from the surface of my days. it won't go anywhere.
this is largely what doing this series is about, for me, anyway. by bringing my experiences out to be written and read, it brings them out to a space where I recognize that I can let these memories peek out from my heart and soul, while disregarding the irrational fear that they'll sneak away forever.
until next time,
Carmen
Sunday, April 20, 2014
holidaying
Greetings Friends,
Blogging has fallen low on my list of self-love objectives as of late. I hope you all understand. Life has been busy, but just the kind of busy we love. Christian is back on the soccer field for spring season and we're all having a blast watching his games. Nolan wrote his name the other day. It was a big deal.
School has been busy. My classes are fine, not exceptionally exciting, but enjoyable nonetheless. Math is troubling, but that is nothing new. I've made some new friends this semester, and they are a real hoot. I enjoy the time I spend with them and they make my school days loads more fun. Speaking of friends, my first couple of friends I met at college are graduating in a couple weeks! Oh it's thrilling and devastating at the same time. The latter is only applicable to me of course. I will miss them terribly, but I am so proud of them and even more excited to see what their futures hold.
This Easter weekend has been so lovely. Yosi took Friday off, so we've all had a long weekend. It's been so great to spend time at home (and OUTSIDE). The weather has been wonderful for the most part. This morning, my husband (who is usually more than content to drink his coffee in front of a soccer game on TV) suggested we go for a walk to the park. It was amazing. I'm sitting here in front of my Easter lily, which fills the room with the most wonderful spring scent.
Spring is upon us and I'm overjoyed about its arrival. I needed some sun and warm air. That sense of renewal and the promise of new life in the ground reminds me of the wonderful routine that time holds. It's so encouraging to find peace in the trust of time. Time will surely pass, holding healing and breaths of new energy. Luckily, this is just what this gal has needed lately.
Happy Holidaying to you and yours,
Carmen
Blogging has fallen low on my list of self-love objectives as of late. I hope you all understand. Life has been busy, but just the kind of busy we love. Christian is back on the soccer field for spring season and we're all having a blast watching his games. Nolan wrote his name the other day. It was a big deal.
School has been busy. My classes are fine, not exceptionally exciting, but enjoyable nonetheless. Math is troubling, but that is nothing new. I've made some new friends this semester, and they are a real hoot. I enjoy the time I spend with them and they make my school days loads more fun. Speaking of friends, my first couple of friends I met at college are graduating in a couple weeks! Oh it's thrilling and devastating at the same time. The latter is only applicable to me of course. I will miss them terribly, but I am so proud of them and even more excited to see what their futures hold.
This Easter weekend has been so lovely. Yosi took Friday off, so we've all had a long weekend. It's been so great to spend time at home (and OUTSIDE). The weather has been wonderful for the most part. This morning, my husband (who is usually more than content to drink his coffee in front of a soccer game on TV) suggested we go for a walk to the park. It was amazing. I'm sitting here in front of my Easter lily, which fills the room with the most wonderful spring scent.
Spring is upon us and I'm overjoyed about its arrival. I needed some sun and warm air. That sense of renewal and the promise of new life in the ground reminds me of the wonderful routine that time holds. It's so encouraging to find peace in the trust of time. Time will surely pass, holding healing and breaths of new energy. Luckily, this is just what this gal has needed lately.
Happy Holidaying to you and yours,
Carmen
Friday, April 4, 2014
I just want to do yoga and write books.
.... that was my response to a co-worker when she asked me what I wanted to do with my life.
I just want to do yoga and write books. I want to wake up with the sun and spend an hour making breakfast. I want to do make a career out of developing myself and my connection with myself. I want to write books about the human experience. Books that talk about meaning and living and dying.
I want to write letters to friends and family after breakfast, and then sit at an organic little cafe for lunch drinking coffee while I people watch. I want to spend afternoons with my boys, adventuring, dreaming, and playing pretend. I want to help them think about what they desire out of life and let them explore as many possibilities as their hearts desire. I want to wash laundry and do yoga in the sun as it dries on the line.
I want to create elaborate dinners and invite people I love over to share them with me. I want to have great dinner conversations that lingers on until the sun has dipped below the horizon. I want to drink really great wine and stay up really late talking and writing about things that move my soul. I want to wake up the next morning and do it all over again.
Anyone know of a place that is hiring for a position like this?
I just want to do yoga and write books. I want to wake up with the sun and spend an hour making breakfast. I want to do make a career out of developing myself and my connection with myself. I want to write books about the human experience. Books that talk about meaning and living and dying.
I want to write letters to friends and family after breakfast, and then sit at an organic little cafe for lunch drinking coffee while I people watch. I want to spend afternoons with my boys, adventuring, dreaming, and playing pretend. I want to help them think about what they desire out of life and let them explore as many possibilities as their hearts desire. I want to wash laundry and do yoga in the sun as it dries on the line.
I want to create elaborate dinners and invite people I love over to share them with me. I want to have great dinner conversations that lingers on until the sun has dipped below the horizon. I want to drink really great wine and stay up really late talking and writing about things that move my soul. I want to wake up the next morning and do it all over again.
Anyone know of a place that is hiring for a position like this?
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
and the time.. it goes.
and just like that, the time keeps going.
It's such a strange paradox, to experience time as a mother.
The days are long, laborious, and repetitive. My mornings are filled with finding socks and packing lunches. I fill the same coffee cup, drive the same thirty miles, and sit in the same classes. Drive back the same way.. Evenings are filled with writing numbers and letters. Gathering up hats and gloves in order to ride bikes quickly before I must start dinner. Again.
bath, books, bed. wash, rinse, repeat.
When the alarm goes off at 6:24, and the house is dark and quiet, it seems like it will be an eternity before I'm able to lay my head back down to breathe in the warm air of sleep. But before I know it, the house is dark and quiet again.
wash, rinse, repeat.
I looked at Christian today and he looked six years old. He's been six since October, but today, I looked at him and he looked six. It made my heart ache a little bit. I think about how quickly these years have gone by. I think about another six years passing and my heart ache sharpens from a dull grief to a sharp panic.
I'm not ready. I need to prepare for what will happen. I need to prepare for how to be a mother to bigger boys, boys who are are ten, eleven, twelve... I need it to slow down, so I can savor every bit of magic that lingers in the length of these days. I need to remember that days are long but years are short and it's vital not to get swallowed up by the monotony.
Whether I'm ready or not, the time will move.
We'll ride bikes a tad longer tomorrow, the bath isn't going anywhere.
Until next time,
Carmen
It's such a strange paradox, to experience time as a mother.
The days are long, laborious, and repetitive. My mornings are filled with finding socks and packing lunches. I fill the same coffee cup, drive the same thirty miles, and sit in the same classes. Drive back the same way.. Evenings are filled with writing numbers and letters. Gathering up hats and gloves in order to ride bikes quickly before I must start dinner. Again.
bath, books, bed. wash, rinse, repeat.
When the alarm goes off at 6:24, and the house is dark and quiet, it seems like it will be an eternity before I'm able to lay my head back down to breathe in the warm air of sleep. But before I know it, the house is dark and quiet again.
wash, rinse, repeat.
I looked at Christian today and he looked six years old. He's been six since October, but today, I looked at him and he looked six. It made my heart ache a little bit. I think about how quickly these years have gone by. I think about another six years passing and my heart ache sharpens from a dull grief to a sharp panic.
I'm not ready. I need to prepare for what will happen. I need to prepare for how to be a mother to bigger boys, boys who are are ten, eleven, twelve... I need it to slow down, so I can savor every bit of magic that lingers in the length of these days. I need to remember that days are long but years are short and it's vital not to get swallowed up by the monotony.
Whether I'm ready or not, the time will move.
We'll ride bikes a tad longer tomorrow, the bath isn't going anywhere.
Until next time,
Carmen
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
as of late.
life lately.
I love spring break SO MUCH.
Don't get me wrong, school is fun too, but sometimes this mama just needs some time to cuddle her babies and catch up on laundry and napping. Fair?
The weather is (dare I say it...) almost kind of springy.
We've been at the park down from our house five times in the the last three days. It's been amazing to get outdoors.
I found this little gem over on pinterest, and I love it. I don't necessarily believe in callings, not in the traditional way at least. But I do know when things excite my soul I am drawn to those things, and that's what this says to me.
My soul has felt heavy as of late. Not in a terrible or worrying way, just in a way that reminds me that this life is full of ups and of not ups. I don't call it down because that's not correct - not for me. I am beautifully blessed, and I live a life that leaves me so incredibly grateful at the end of each day that my heart feels like it just might overflow with love.
Anyhow, my heavy soul has called for some extra relaxing. Plentiful outside time. I've traded my T25 routine for lots of yoga, meditation, and prayer, simply because it feels better at the time being. We have been engaging in lots of games of Memory, Uno, and Sorry. I'm listening to good music and letting it be ok so just slow down and really take time for myself while I prioritize my time in a way that will refresh my spirit.
I'm deliberately taking time to love myself, embracing a spirit of gratitude and grace, and intentionally reflecting some of that energy back to myself.
Namaste friends,
Carmen
I love spring break SO MUCH.
Don't get me wrong, school is fun too, but sometimes this mama just needs some time to cuddle her babies and catch up on laundry and napping. Fair?
The weather is (dare I say it...) almost kind of springy.
We've been at the park down from our house five times in the the last three days. It's been amazing to get outdoors.
My soul has felt heavy as of late. Not in a terrible or worrying way, just in a way that reminds me that this life is full of ups and of not ups. I don't call it down because that's not correct - not for me. I am beautifully blessed, and I live a life that leaves me so incredibly grateful at the end of each day that my heart feels like it just might overflow with love.
Anyhow, my heavy soul has called for some extra relaxing. Plentiful outside time. I've traded my T25 routine for lots of yoga, meditation, and prayer, simply because it feels better at the time being. We have been engaging in lots of games of Memory, Uno, and Sorry. I'm listening to good music and letting it be ok so just slow down and really take time for myself while I prioritize my time in a way that will refresh my spirit.
I'm deliberately taking time to love myself, embracing a spirit of gratitude and grace, and intentionally reflecting some of that energy back to myself.
Namaste friends,
Carmen
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
if you need this today, I wrote it for you.
I was planning to write a post tonight about life lately around here. It was not going to be interesting, but it was going to be witty (obviously) and to the point. After that I was going to drink tea and watch reruns of Grey's.
Before settling in to carry out my master plan, I was perusing instagram. By golly I love instagram. I was just toodling about when I ran accross something that really made my heart sad. It was a thinspo page. Read: It was a page full of photos of stick thin girls, mantras about being thin (not fit, not healthy, thin) not wanting to eat a single morsel too much, and so on and so forth. I read the profile of the owner of said page and my heart got even sadder. This profile listed a starting weight, current weight, and goal weight. 111, 101, and 94 pounds respectively.
This user had over eleven thousand followers.
At the end of the day, I'll never know the person behind that account, but I wanted to write them a letter. Just in case, you know, they read my blog religiously.
Dearest friend,
I don't know if anyone has told you lately, but you are quite lovely. Your smile lights up the room, and your laughter is contagious. One of my favorite things about you is how your eyes twinkle when you speak about something that ignites your soul, how your passion rises up into your voice and infects all of those who are listening.
Your witty charm has always impressed me and your movie trivia is impossible to beat. When you're sad, I find it endearing that you always find the same ratty sweater and watch Message in a Bottle, despite the fact that you could recite that film start to finish. You make the absolute best margarita this side of the Rio Grande. I admire your grit, and determination, and hard-working disposition.
Friend, these are the things that make you beautiful. I know it's cliche, but beauty truly does originate on the inside. It forms in the depths of you soul and radiates through you. It's this beauty that draws people to you and builds a life of depth and meaning. You are a marvelous character, and the beauty that you have is irrelevant to the number that you read on the scale each morning, noon, and night.
You are beautiful. Right now today. And tomorrow, and yesterday, and even during that super awkward stage in eighth grade. It is who you are, down to the very core of your being.
I hope you are well, friend. I hope that you don't let anyone or anything, even the scale, tell you what your worth. Because honestly, you are priceless. If you need help, please call 1-800-931-2237 to get things back on track. You are worth it.
With warm hugs
Sincerely,
Carmen
this sounds like a psa I know, but honestly, if you or someone you know struggles with an eating disorder call the number above to reach the national eating disorders association hotline. they are also online (because who isn't?) at http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org
Before settling in to carry out my master plan, I was perusing instagram. By golly I love instagram. I was just toodling about when I ran accross something that really made my heart sad. It was a thinspo page. Read: It was a page full of photos of stick thin girls, mantras about being thin (not fit, not healthy, thin) not wanting to eat a single morsel too much, and so on and so forth. I read the profile of the owner of said page and my heart got even sadder. This profile listed a starting weight, current weight, and goal weight. 111, 101, and 94 pounds respectively.
This user had over eleven thousand followers.
At the end of the day, I'll never know the person behind that account, but I wanted to write them a letter. Just in case, you know, they read my blog religiously.
Dearest friend,
I don't know if anyone has told you lately, but you are quite lovely. Your smile lights up the room, and your laughter is contagious. One of my favorite things about you is how your eyes twinkle when you speak about something that ignites your soul, how your passion rises up into your voice and infects all of those who are listening.
Your witty charm has always impressed me and your movie trivia is impossible to beat. When you're sad, I find it endearing that you always find the same ratty sweater and watch Message in a Bottle, despite the fact that you could recite that film start to finish. You make the absolute best margarita this side of the Rio Grande. I admire your grit, and determination, and hard-working disposition.
Friend, these are the things that make you beautiful. I know it's cliche, but beauty truly does originate on the inside. It forms in the depths of you soul and radiates through you. It's this beauty that draws people to you and builds a life of depth and meaning. You are a marvelous character, and the beauty that you have is irrelevant to the number that you read on the scale each morning, noon, and night.
You are beautiful. Right now today. And tomorrow, and yesterday, and even during that super awkward stage in eighth grade. It is who you are, down to the very core of your being.
I hope you are well, friend. I hope that you don't let anyone or anything, even the scale, tell you what your worth. Because honestly, you are priceless. If you need help, please call 1-800-931-2237 to get things back on track. You are worth it.
With warm hugs
Sincerely,
Carmen
Thursday, February 27, 2014
the bully that spilled my kid's milk.
Christian got bullied at school earlier this week. In the cafeteria at lunch. He came home in tears and it took every ounce of everything I had not to cry as he told me what happened. Evidently a first-grade boy purposely knocked over Christian's milk and proceeded to put his hat, gloves, and lunchbox in the puddle of milk. I was equal parts furious and heartbroken, on the inside of course. I tried my absolute best to be supportive on the outside. To turn this into a learning opportunity, and be a warm place for Christian to snuggle and recuperate his sad little soul.
As soon as he had bounced back enough to go play, I sent a I'mSuperPissedButI'mTryingToMaintainMyComposure email to both his teacher and principal about the incident. Let me start by saying that I LOVE Christian's teacher so much. I wasn't the least bit surprised when she emailed me back first thing the next morning and was already on top of it. Yos, Christian, and I were able to meet with his teacher and the principal that afternoon to discuss the details of the event and they reassured me that the bully had been identified and was serving an appropriate consequence.
I HATE that my son was picked on. He is my son. Nobody is allowed to hurt his feelings. I'm almost surprised by how I reacted. I was a mama bear. I was going to do whatever I had to in order to make sure that this was going to be fixed - that this other little boy would be spoken with about how wrong it is to pick on other kids.
As we left the school after that meeting, finally, the steam coming out of my ears had been replaced with satisfaction and optimism that this wouldn't happen again. In the relief, I found myself thinking about this other boy. At seven years old, this isn't quite like the time a couple years ago where Nolan bit the tot sitting next to him at daycare to see what would happen. Now, that was mean too, but this child is at an age where he can likely understand that it is wrong to tease other children. To spill their milk and laugh while you soak their hat, gloves, and lunchbox in it... Who even does that? Kids who are needing something that they aren't getting. That's who.
Later in the evening, I explained to Christian that hurt people, hurt people. I told him how bullying is often is a result of something that the bully has going on inside instead of a problem with the person on the receiving end of the unkind actions or words.
You know what my guy said in response to that?
"I hope he isn't too hurt on the inside, maybe I can think good things for that boy so his insides can get better."
And just like that, once again, Christian shows me what grace looks like.
Until next time,
Carmen
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
365.
One year ago today, Jill and I sat anxiously in the IVF clinic waiting for our turn. The RE transferred two sweet little embryos and we all hoped and prayed with all our might.
Today on the phone, Jill told me that Bunny will sit up supported by pillows.
You guys, it's been the most incredible year. For them, but for me too. I'm so blessed to have been a part of something so wonderful... so magical and SO full of love. I spoke with both Jack and Jill today to celebrate our transfer-versary and I am completely overwhelmed with the love and appreciation we share for each other.
Today, as he often says on our calls, Jack said, "Thank you." ..... Those words simply don't capture what his voice is saying. They don't capture the pride he has for his baby. The words don't touch the love he holds in his heart for the life we all worked so hard to bring into this world. The words just aren't enough; they aren't full enough, or rich enough, they just aren't enough to convey what he actually means.
But that's ok, because of course I say, "You're welcome." This isn't really what I'm saying of course. What I'm actually saying is "I WOULDN'T CHANGE IT FOR THE WORLD!" I'm actually telling him that it was an honor to carry Bunny. It's so freaking profound that it changed me in ways that I never could have imagined. I'm actually saying that this adventure we had together touched my life in a way that words will never convey.
So we say things like "Thank you" and "You're welcome" even though each of us knows that those things aren't what we actually mean. We mean so much more.
Until next time,
Carmen
Today on the phone, Jill told me that Bunny will sit up supported by pillows.
You guys, it's been the most incredible year. For them, but for me too. I'm so blessed to have been a part of something so wonderful... so magical and SO full of love. I spoke with both Jack and Jill today to celebrate our transfer-versary and I am completely overwhelmed with the love and appreciation we share for each other.
Today, as he often says on our calls, Jack said, "Thank you." ..... Those words simply don't capture what his voice is saying. They don't capture the pride he has for his baby. The words don't touch the love he holds in his heart for the life we all worked so hard to bring into this world. The words just aren't enough; they aren't full enough, or rich enough, they just aren't enough to convey what he actually means.
But that's ok, because of course I say, "You're welcome." This isn't really what I'm saying of course. What I'm actually saying is "I WOULDN'T CHANGE IT FOR THE WORLD!" I'm actually telling him that it was an honor to carry Bunny. It's so freaking profound that it changed me in ways that I never could have imagined. I'm actually saying that this adventure we had together touched my life in a way that words will never convey.
So we say things like "Thank you" and "You're welcome" even though each of us knows that those things aren't what we actually mean. We mean so much more.
Until next time,
Carmen
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
breaking my heart.
Sometimes being a parent can be absolutely heartbreaking.
We've created these tiny humans are who perfect, and tiny, and wonderful. I held them as they took their firsts breaths of life as tears ran down my face. I've held them at night, rocking silently away dreaming of how many possibilities are waiting for this little person. I've wiped their tears and calmed their fits. I've held their hands as they venture off to a list of firsts. First day of school, first day of swimming lessons, first day flying solo at daycare...
I get to hear about their days, and their lunches, and their friends. I get to encourage them to try new things with only a reasonable amount of fear. I listen to their stories and help them with their letters and numbers. I've nurtured these little bodies and little souls with only what I can hope is the best of myself.
I have dreams for them. Dreams of happiness, and curiosity, and joy. Dreams that they'll only encounter struggles that will make them stronger, and wiser. Dreams that they'll grow up some day far in the distance and become genuine friends to the people in their lives, and be passionate men who crave the most out of life. Men who not only chase after their own dreams, but catch them as well.
But the truth is, life does not always look like this. Life can be hard, and unfair, and ridiculously hard some more. The truth is that everyone struggles to find a place in this big old world, and instead of feeling like an exciting adventure, it often feels like a mess of a road trip. The sting of life is real, and the silence of sorrow is deafening. And while I hope that my young men are as lucky as I, and only have fleeting moments of the ache of a life well lived, I must acknowledge that life can be messy and hard. And at the end of the day it simply breaks my heart that my perfect, tiny, child will ever have to know what that is like.
Until next time,
Carmen
Friday, January 17, 2014
a big deal in my pocket.
Sometimes when you're a surrogate, you have the baby and go back to your regular life and everyone forgets that you were a surrogate.
So, my semester started this week and I'm in classes with absolutely nobody that I know. This is fine, I'm only kind of socially awkward and for the most part it's not a big deal. I was just thinking today as I was sitting in a classroom full of strangers that not a single one of them knows I was just pregnant a few months back. Not one of them knows that I made a whole new family!
Well, of course they don't.
But it's really something, and it's really weird. I just spent over a year of my life attempting to get pregnant and then growing Bunny for Jack and Jill. Then I went through twelve hours of natural labor to bring this little baby into the world and watch as these people I came to love become parents. It's pretty profound, friends. After Bunny was born and I went back to school clearly not pregnant, people asked about it. How did it go? When was Bunny born? What was it like? How are you doing? Which was slightly annoying, but it was really fantastic to tell people how awesome it was.
Now, I'm in classes with strangers and nobody knows. It's been a few months and even the people I do know mostly don't ask about it anymore. I mean, why would they really? It's just so odd to have just been through one of the most profound experiences of ever and now I go about my day and nobody else has any idea about how awesome it was. I think this is a surro thing.
I want to shout it from the rooftops that I did this awesome thing, and I seriously couldn't be more proud of myself, or more ecstatic for this new family I had a part in creating. I want to tell the cashier at Walmart (who saw me many times when pregnant and now sees me not pregnant with no baby in my cart) that I was a surrogate and it was fantastic. I want to tell my hot yoga instructor my tummy is jiggly and my form is (really) rusty because I just had a baby for the most amazing family and they are all doing well. I want to tell the new girl at work that I just got back from some time off because I just delivered a baby as a surrogate. But I don't, because it's not relevant to them, only to me.
While that statement could seem all 'woe is me', I see it as completely the opposite. I see my surrogacy adventure as an incredible highlight in my story. And no matter how much time goes by it's always going to be part of my story. How awesome is that?!
I can just see it now; one day I'll be engaged in a conversation with a classmate about the east coast or how awesome science is and it'll come up that I was a surrogate, then I'll get to talk about how amazing and life changing the whole thing was, and then I'll take that part of my story and tuck it back away and save it for the next time it comes up. It's always going to be a huge deal in my story, a huge deal that I get to carry with me forever. Like a love note tucked away in a pocket, this chapter of my story is kept safely in my heart. It's not worn on my sleeve, but that doesn't mean it's far away. It's just this big huge deal, tucked away in my pocket.
Until next time,
Carmen
So, my semester started this week and I'm in classes with absolutely nobody that I know. This is fine, I'm only kind of socially awkward and for the most part it's not a big deal. I was just thinking today as I was sitting in a classroom full of strangers that not a single one of them knows I was just pregnant a few months back. Not one of them knows that I made a whole new family!
Well, of course they don't.
But it's really something, and it's really weird. I just spent over a year of my life attempting to get pregnant and then growing Bunny for Jack and Jill. Then I went through twelve hours of natural labor to bring this little baby into the world and watch as these people I came to love become parents. It's pretty profound, friends. After Bunny was born and I went back to school clearly not pregnant, people asked about it. How did it go? When was Bunny born? What was it like? How are you doing? Which was slightly annoying, but it was really fantastic to tell people how awesome it was.
Now, I'm in classes with strangers and nobody knows. It's been a few months and even the people I do know mostly don't ask about it anymore. I mean, why would they really? It's just so odd to have just been through one of the most profound experiences of ever and now I go about my day and nobody else has any idea about how awesome it was. I think this is a surro thing.
I want to shout it from the rooftops that I did this awesome thing, and I seriously couldn't be more proud of myself, or more ecstatic for this new family I had a part in creating. I want to tell the cashier at Walmart (who saw me many times when pregnant and now sees me not pregnant with no baby in my cart) that I was a surrogate and it was fantastic. I want to tell my hot yoga instructor my tummy is jiggly and my form is (really) rusty because I just had a baby for the most amazing family and they are all doing well. I want to tell the new girl at work that I just got back from some time off because I just delivered a baby as a surrogate. But I don't, because it's not relevant to them, only to me.
While that statement could seem all 'woe is me', I see it as completely the opposite. I see my surrogacy adventure as an incredible highlight in my story. And no matter how much time goes by it's always going to be part of my story. How awesome is that?!
I can just see it now; one day I'll be engaged in a conversation with a classmate about the east coast or how awesome science is and it'll come up that I was a surrogate, then I'll get to talk about how amazing and life changing the whole thing was, and then I'll take that part of my story and tuck it back away and save it for the next time it comes up. It's always going to be a huge deal in my story, a huge deal that I get to carry with me forever. Like a love note tucked away in a pocket, this chapter of my story is kept safely in my heart. It's not worn on my sleeve, but that doesn't mean it's far away. It's just this big huge deal, tucked away in my pocket.
Until next time,
Carmen
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
report cards, being four, and other stuff.
Wow, I can't believe this month is already halfway over! One of my New Year's resolutions this year is to be a consistent (and consistently awesome) blogger... Let's file that under "I'm working on it".
So Christian is back in the school swing. We just received his report card and I am mighty proud of that young fellow. He's amazing and his kindergarten report card reflects his amazingness. After we sat and looked at it, Yosi promptly went over and hung the report card on the fridge. You could say he's a proud dad.
Nolan is being awesome at being three. But, he turns four NEXT WEEK. Sigh. How does that even happen? My baby is going to be four. Part of me is completely ecstatic, the other part is grief stricken. They even out to a sort of "wow, where did the time go? thank goodness we don't have to deal with three ever again". Three year olds are not rational people. While they are adorable, hilarious, and over-flowingly full of laughter, you cannot yet reason with these folks.
I'm working on not looking like I just had a baby. Even though I did. I don't know why us women do that to ourselves. I mean, talk about unreasonable. But I'm not being all intense and cranky about it because that's not useful, needed, or fun. I am just doing things I should be doing anyway like eating good, real food, and using my body in active and meaningful ways. By mindfully treating my body well, it will treat me well in return.
Until next time,
Carmen
So Christian is back in the school swing. We just received his report card and I am mighty proud of that young fellow. He's amazing and his kindergarten report card reflects his amazingness. After we sat and looked at it, Yosi promptly went over and hung the report card on the fridge. You could say he's a proud dad.
Nolan is being awesome at being three. But, he turns four NEXT WEEK. Sigh. How does that even happen? My baby is going to be four. Part of me is completely ecstatic, the other part is grief stricken. They even out to a sort of "wow, where did the time go? thank goodness we don't have to deal with three ever again". Three year olds are not rational people. While they are adorable, hilarious, and over-flowingly full of laughter, you cannot yet reason with these folks.
I'm working on not looking like I just had a baby. Even though I did. I don't know why us women do that to ourselves. I mean, talk about unreasonable. But I'm not being all intense and cranky about it because that's not useful, needed, or fun. I am just doing things I should be doing anyway like eating good, real food, and using my body in active and meaningful ways. By mindfully treating my body well, it will treat me well in return.
Until next time,
Carmen
Monday, January 6, 2014
christmas vacation.
Guys, Christmas vacation is not as fun when you're a parent.
Christian goes back to school tomorrow and my day will be spent tending to mydisaster zone house.
Messes aside, it's been pretty fun. It's been nice being lazy in the morning and drinking my coffee while still in my jammies opposed to in the car. It's been fun baking cookies, and eating cookies, and sometimes eating real food too. Not often though. We've also spent countless hours playing with playdo, having uno tournaments, and getting competitive over board games. It has had some definite highlights, and these boys of mine kind of are hilarious.
It's been kind of fun and kind of not. Both kids home mean that at least a part of the day will include bickering, and arguing, and fighting over two of the exact same guys. It doesn't help that I'm on break too. Meaning I have no homework, no projects, no reading assignments, nothing. It's feels gloriously free for the first couple of days and then it gets ridiculously boring.
Christian goes back to school tomorrow and my day will be spent tending to my
Messes aside, it's been pretty fun. It's been nice being lazy in the morning and drinking my coffee while still in my jammies opposed to in the car. It's been fun baking cookies, and eating cookies, and sometimes eating real food too. Not often though. We've also spent countless hours playing with playdo, having uno tournaments, and getting competitive over board games. It has had some definite highlights, and these boys of mine kind of are hilarious.
It's been kind of fun and kind of not. Both kids home mean that at least a part of the day will include bickering, and arguing, and fighting over two of the exact same guys. It doesn't help that I'm on break too. Meaning I have no homework, no projects, no reading assignments, nothing. It's feels gloriously free for the first couple of days and then it gets ridiculously boring.
here is what I've found to do:
organize my basement
go through ALL closets and donate all clothes that aren't worn anymore
finally start on my gallery wall
organize and print out a years worth of photos
read two books (one on the booklist for my spring semester, and one for fun)
cleaned my carpets
Now, most of these things needed done anyway, so it's not at all a bad thing that I've finally found time to get them done. BUT, it feels pretty weird not to be working on anything school-y. That will all change in a short week when I'll be overwhelmed once again with homework and reading assignments. A girl just can't win.
Until next time,
Carmen
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