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

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

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

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

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

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 my disaster 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.

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

2013

2013

This year has been filled with so much life.

I've been blessed exponentially with joy and health.

My husband told me the other night that this has been "our best year yet". 

Our sons are beautiful and healthy and brilliant.

I have cherished time with family and friends.

I have learned more both in school and in life (mostly life) than I ever could have imagined. 

My surrogacy adventure has opened my eyes and my heart in ways that words cannot describe.

Life in this house has never been filled with more laughter.

It's been a fantastic year.

I can't wait to see what 2014 holds.

Happy New Year,

Carmen