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Some Heavy Stuff

We had our psych evaluation today, and I'm happy to report that I am not "clinically" insane.


They don't actually tell you that, but I'm guessing because I answered most of the questions about punching people out or doing lots of drugs with "Mostly untrue" that means I pass.


Hubs and I dropped the kids off with some friends of ours so they could do VBS while we got psyched out. After we picked the kids up I asked how VBS went. Sunshine said "I uh....I don't want to talk about it."


After some provocation I learned that a little boy in her class took part of a house she was building, so she decked him Christian style. I asked what the teacher said, and she told me the teacher told her "Oh it's ok." I forgot we moved back to Texas. Stand your ground laws and what not...


Sweet Pea had a different experience. She's a bit of a mama's girl, so I was curious as to how she handled not only going to a new place but being dropped off without me. Her best buddy was there as well as a friend from her dance class, so I asked how she liked it. She told me "I like my friends. I scared of Jesus." Fantastic.


So basically Sunshine felt the Spirit move her and they put the fear of God in Sweet Pea. Fab.


Meanwhile Hubs and I were sitting in the most tranquil of waiting rooms waiting for our turn with the shrink.


We're trying to stifle our laughter as we're surrounded by all this fertility loveliness that I can only assume is meant to relax your ovaries or something. It's basically a room full of Enya, and on the TV is a video of these guys in white suits doing synchronized sky diving. I read too much into it and equated them as little sperm swimming toward the egg/Earth. But Hubs just thinks it was a weird part of the psych test to make us nuts.


So we're giggling about a story we're reading on my phone about a Texas grocery store selling pizzle. Look it up. worth it. We're 12.


And they called us back.


We go into a room and are told we'll have to take a little written exam but separately so we don't cheat or something. This dear little written exam has 344 statements that I'm supposed to indicate to what degree I agree or disagree with. Then I'm to copy those responses from the paper to a computer thingy that will tally my level of crazy. I get down to biznass and Hubs goes into a separate chamber to complete his.


Homegirl tells us it takes most people 45 minutes to an hour to complete it, but Hubs and I are overachievers (plus we're hoping to shave time off of our session so we can hit up Wendy's before we have to pick up the kids). So we both finished in 25 minutes.


The written portion went like this:


Some of my favorite things were how many times they ask if you want to just kill yourself or like if your friends think drugs are a good idea. Then they'd throw a statement in there like "My favorite activity is the high jump" and "Most people love going to the dentist". I didn't really know how to answer that last one. I put Sometimes True. But I think the answer was False. Fail.


Anyway I guess I mostly answered them right because I only got one follow up question when we got in for our chat session. There was a statement that said "I've never been in trouble with the law." and I put "Mostly True"


The thing is I got a curfew ticket when I was 15, so I wanted to just go ahead and own my mistakes. The lady asked about question 47 and what kind of trouble I had with the law. It took everything I had not to tell her that I fought it. But it won.


Then we got on to some serious stuff. She wanted to know about our childhoods and about our marriage and if we thought we'd have trouble handing over the baby and what not. Those were  the easy questions.


The tough stuff came when she wanted to know how we felt about termination should that subject arise. That's the one thing I've struggled with a lot so far in my surrogacy journey. I know how I feel about selective reduction for multiples. I can't be matched with a couple who would want me to off one of the babies because he's crowding my uterus. We're only working with one embie, so the most we'll have is two in there. That's fantastic with my IP's because they want at least two babies. So we're cool on that.


But then there's the grey area of termination because of....other stuff. There are a myriad of reasons that people terminate pregnancies, but I'm not even aware of what they all are. What I do know is how I felt with my pregnancies. I didn't even get genetic testing done because there wasn't a syndrome in the world that would convince me that my baby didn't have a chance to live.


We've talked about this with our IP's and they assured me that they wouldn't terminate unless it was an extreme circumstance. For instance if the baby was going to suffer and then die immediately following birth. Or if my life was in jeopardy. But apparently we really need to nail this down.


My initial thoughts on this were that I'm not comfortable terminating for any reason. I wasn't willing to terminate my own children for any reason at all, so I wasn't willing to terminate anyone else's. And while I still basically feel that way, my Surrogate Solutions rep painted a new picture for me. If it were my child it would be my choice. Everything would. I'd choose if I was going to drink coffee or take up jogging during pregnancy. I'd decide what to wear for maternity photos and what doctor was going to catch my baby as she came into the world.


So many of those decisions have been taken away from my IM. She wants the life decisions to be theirs to make. It's not my baby that would suffer. It's not my child that I'd have to hold knowing I only had moments before she suffocated to death in my arms.


After talking for a while I defined a little more clearly what I'm comfortable with. I'm still a no go when it comes to selectively reducing for multiples. I can't play eenie meenie miney moe, that one lives and that one goes. Not happening.


And I'm still not comfortable terminating if they suspect the baby has something like Down Syndrome. That same friend who was so tender in telling me about her pregnancy while I was grieving the loss of my twins found out that her son had markers for Down's. She was faced with the gut-wrenching decision to terminate or continue the pregnancy. Now her handsome man is 5 years old. And no he didn't have Down's after all.


Even so, I have another friend with a daughter Sweet Pea's age who has Down's Syndrome. I can't in good faith enter into an agreement with a couple who would terminate for something like that. No I haven't had to live with a child with special needs. I'm sure it's beyond difficult, and I'm sure at times those parents don't know how they do what they do. But the fact of the matter is I could deliver a perfectly healthy baby to these people and they could get in a car accident on the way home from the hospital that would leave their baby paralyzed for life.


There are no guarantees in parenthood, and although I'm not passing judgment on anyone, I personally can't be a part of a contract that will force me to terminate a person because they'll be a burden. Children are a freakin' burden! That's actually the definition of a child.


"Child: n. a tiny squaller hell bent on parental domination. Special needs include 24-hour supervision and diets consisting of chicken nuggets and plain white pasta. In the shape of a pig tail."


So we just have some things to discuss, and our counselor is going to set up a group session with us and our IPs to just chat and get some dialogue going. I really truly hope this doesn't end our journey. I hope hope hope hope our IPs realize that I do want the decisions about their baby to be their to make. But I also can't do something that will haunt me forever. Even if the chances are low. I can't risk it for anyone's sake.


So that's it for now. I think other than our group session we're just waiting on contracts, which I'm told can take a few weeks.


Things might be quiet for a while, but I hope hope hoooopppeeee to be back soon with good news!

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