I got into a discussion recently with a friend of mine, and it eventually turned to surrogacy and his ambivalence toward it. When I inquired, he said that his reservations were due to his respect for the environment and his concern about over-population. As an ecologist, I can understand this point of view. Mind you, this same person drives an SUV, has a huge house and regularly leaves appliances on instead of flipping a switch. He also does some great things from an environmental perspective, but this is still a person who has a child and has a sizable ecological footprint. Needless to say, my perception that he was calling me a hypocrite stung quite a bit.
It stung for a reason- his explanation for his feelings were a canard, quite frankly. Of course over-population is a problem, but so is over consumption by individuals, and he's guilty of his fair share of that. But if we stick to over-population and surrogacy, we're left with possibly the smallest way to impact the natural increase of the human population that exists. Surrogacy makes up less than 1% of live births in the US today. Making surrogacy illegal or prohibitively restricted would cause a change in the birth rate by a pittance. However, unplanned pregnancies in the US (which includes my friend's daughter and grandson, and my own son) account for approximately 50% of all live births in the US. Changing that number would do far more good without the question the human rights and ethics entering the equation.
It was a very difficult discussion, and neither of us felt totally comfortable afterward, but I think it was worth having. We, as a species, are at a turning point right now, I feel. We can either learn to get along and respect our differences as we go forward, or we can continue the old ways of discrimination and demonizing the other. If we can set human rights as definitively a top priority, then we'll be doing much better than we are now, and there's a chance we can make it. If we can't- if we decide that competition is still more important than co-operation- then we're done. If we acquiesce our humanity, then we don't deserve to continue. I feel myself turning more into a cynical nihilist in my old age. I really dislike the people that promote this change in me.
Showing posts with label Surrogacy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Surrogacy. Show all posts
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Play the Changes
Tonight was the Yo-yo Ma/Silk Road Ensemble concert for Ken and I at Blossom Music Center. It was kind of last minute-ish as I only really noticed anything about it this week. We managed to get lawn tickets, and kids under twelve are free on the lawn for Blossom Festival shows, so it was a great cheap evening and come on- kids need to see great cellists, right?
I'll admit it was about 180 degrees from what I had expected, but it was spectacular none the less. Yo-yo Ma- my original reason for wanting to go- was there mainly as a concert master and for one encore piece only. The show was very much about his Silk Road Ensemble, a group composed of a whole range of ethnicities, cultures, and musical traditions, all sharing the common thread of being somehow associated with the historic Silk Road. Inspiration for their compositions range from traditional Chinese songs, to Persia, to gypsy to Greek influences. Lots of traditional instruments like the khaen (or a relative), the gaita, the pipa and the tabla. Really, it's fusion music to the Nth degree.
There's no hiding the fact that this summer has been difficult for Ken and I. Two passionate individuals with a healthy dose of obstinance in each, and very different goals for their time together. To say we butt heads periodically is the understatement of the year. Lately, with my time even more limited due to teaching, it's been getting worse. I approached tonight with at least a little trepidation, especially considering how the day started at home. The start to the day include blatant disobedience and much intentional button-pushing.
Come 7:30 PM, we were settled on the lawn at Blossom and discussing the evenings events. He had some time to unwind (read- go crazy) and the show started at eight. As soon as the music started, it was like a switch was flipped. He was listening intently, and asking questions (quietly, even!), staring in rapt attention at the performers. He was describing what images the music brought to his mind, and the images tied in to the actual descriptions we had read, showing that he most likely paid attention to our conversation. It was a magical and Earth-shaking night, and something of which I was in desperate need.
I never imagined myself as a mother. My image of motherhood had been so broken after dad died, I was positive that my being in that position as primary care-giver and nurturer would be a disaster. Now I can't imagine life without the title of "mama" or "parent" being part of my experiences. Being a parent is a beautiful, horrific, devastating, uplifting series of events. It's the thrill of discovery and the joy of true love and the humility of an education all wrapped into one day, or even a few moments. It's the only thing I can think of that is every bit as tortuous as it is ecstatic, with a fair share of flat out disgusting thrown in for good measure.
That's why I do what I do. Every person that desires it, deserves to have the experience of parenting. And I, admittedly selfishly, enjoy being a part of that process. I like helping others get to that point. Surrogacy and egg donation are often described as "journeys" and they very much are just that. Just as a shirpa guides travelers to go where they wish, surrogates and egg donors assist others attain what they want. It's a struggle for all involved, their are extreme physical demands, and their may be bumps, and the outcome may be less than what was intended, but together all parties involved walk side by side and help each other navigate the path.
That journey continues into parenthood, with the parent and child taking up the hiking staffs. Ken has risen to the challenge of me, and I have risen to the challenges that are parenthood. We have stooped down to pick each other up when we fell. And together we continue- up and down, right and left, creating a dance that is every bit as creative and destructive and just as important as the dance of Shiva and Kali. Together, we have grown a hundred feet taller than I ever thought either of us could be. I would not be the person I am today without him, and he would not be the person he is without me- for better or for worse. All I can do is fight the human parts of myself and try my best to ensure that there are more notches on the "better" side than the "worse" side of the equation. All I can do is try my best to help him to be better than me, and to leave the world a little better than we found it.
I'll admit it was about 180 degrees from what I had expected, but it was spectacular none the less. Yo-yo Ma- my original reason for wanting to go- was there mainly as a concert master and for one encore piece only. The show was very much about his Silk Road Ensemble, a group composed of a whole range of ethnicities, cultures, and musical traditions, all sharing the common thread of being somehow associated with the historic Silk Road. Inspiration for their compositions range from traditional Chinese songs, to Persia, to gypsy to Greek influences. Lots of traditional instruments like the khaen (or a relative), the gaita, the pipa and the tabla. Really, it's fusion music to the Nth degree.
There's no hiding the fact that this summer has been difficult for Ken and I. Two passionate individuals with a healthy dose of obstinance in each, and very different goals for their time together. To say we butt heads periodically is the understatement of the year. Lately, with my time even more limited due to teaching, it's been getting worse. I approached tonight with at least a little trepidation, especially considering how the day started at home. The start to the day include blatant disobedience and much intentional button-pushing.
Come 7:30 PM, we were settled on the lawn at Blossom and discussing the evenings events. He had some time to unwind (read- go crazy) and the show started at eight. As soon as the music started, it was like a switch was flipped. He was listening intently, and asking questions (quietly, even!), staring in rapt attention at the performers. He was describing what images the music brought to his mind, and the images tied in to the actual descriptions we had read, showing that he most likely paid attention to our conversation. It was a magical and Earth-shaking night, and something of which I was in desperate need.
I never imagined myself as a mother. My image of motherhood had been so broken after dad died, I was positive that my being in that position as primary care-giver and nurturer would be a disaster. Now I can't imagine life without the title of "mama" or "parent" being part of my experiences. Being a parent is a beautiful, horrific, devastating, uplifting series of events. It's the thrill of discovery and the joy of true love and the humility of an education all wrapped into one day, or even a few moments. It's the only thing I can think of that is every bit as tortuous as it is ecstatic, with a fair share of flat out disgusting thrown in for good measure.
That's why I do what I do. Every person that desires it, deserves to have the experience of parenting. And I, admittedly selfishly, enjoy being a part of that process. I like helping others get to that point. Surrogacy and egg donation are often described as "journeys" and they very much are just that. Just as a shirpa guides travelers to go where they wish, surrogates and egg donors assist others attain what they want. It's a struggle for all involved, their are extreme physical demands, and their may be bumps, and the outcome may be less than what was intended, but together all parties involved walk side by side and help each other navigate the path.
That journey continues into parenthood, with the parent and child taking up the hiking staffs. Ken has risen to the challenge of me, and I have risen to the challenges that are parenthood. We have stooped down to pick each other up when we fell. And together we continue- up and down, right and left, creating a dance that is every bit as creative and destructive and just as important as the dance of Shiva and Kali. Together, we have grown a hundred feet taller than I ever thought either of us could be. I would not be the person I am today without him, and he would not be the person he is without me- for better or for worse. All I can do is fight the human parts of myself and try my best to ensure that there are more notches on the "better" side than the "worse" side of the equation. All I can do is try my best to help him to be better than me, and to leave the world a little better than we found it.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Grown in My Heart adoption carnival
This is for the Grown in my Heart adoption carnival going on in honor of Mother's day.
Family is family, however it's made.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Meg!
1) At what age did you find yourself passionately drawn towards reptiles and amphibians? And what do you think triggered this?
The herp thing started in my undergrad years, summer of 2002 specifically, thanks to Eric Juterbock and Patrick Owen, both of Ohio State at the time, but Pat has since moved on to bigger and better things at University of Cincinnati. Eric is worshiped by all Desmognathus fuscus (Northern Dusky Salamander) as a god, and he showed me the wonder of herps. Pat induced my obsession with Lithobates clamitans (Green Frog, formerly Rana clamitans). I'm 90% convinced the real way to tell Northern Duskies from Mountain Duskies (Desmognathus ochropheaus, a related species studied by Lowell Orr of Kent State University) is to ask them the simple question "Lowell Orr or Eric Juterbock?" Keel or no keel be damned.
2) What made you decide to want to be a surrogate and a donor? Was this realization like a bolt of lightening, or more like a lingering, slow-developing idea?
It was slow, for sure. My mom had talked about wanting to be a surrogate when I was a kid, because she enjoyed pregnancy so much, so the seed was planted at a young age. She never did, because let's face it, when I was young the only option would have been traditional surrogacy, and while she loved being pregnant, I don't think she would have been able to give away a child genetically related to her. I have no such attachment issues, as evidenced by having offered Ken to random strangers on more than one occasion (joking!), and ART has progressed enough that the genetic link is taken out of the surrogacy equation far more often than not, as was the case in my journey. Before Ken, I pretty much hated kids. They were annoying, loud, obnoxious, smelly, and too dependent for my liking. The first few weeks he was around, I was still ambivalent about kids. But we eventually worked things out, and he has since proven to me what amazing things kids can be, and what a life changing experience becoming a parent can be. I think everyone that wants to be a parent should get the chance, regardless of their sexual orientation, but that's not the case with many adoption agencies today. And because discrimination on the basis of an innate trait is wrong whether it benefits the majority or minority group, you can't say homosexuals can have surrogacy but heterosexuals have to adopt. It's equal treatment or nothing. I like to do what I can to help (something else that was ingrained in my head early on), so I became a surrogate. Same with my donations (hair, milk and egg)- I wanted to help, but I didn't want to be pregnant right then because of my crazy schedule, so I did what I could. Being a milk and hair donor were both also ways for me to get the closure I needed after the surrogacy.
3) What are you thoughts on chemtrails? (Call me crazy. I don't mind. =) )
Crazy Meg, this is actually the first I've heard of chemtrails, so all I have to say about them is "Que es esso?"
Now let me know where to send chocolate.
The herp thing started in my undergrad years, summer of 2002 specifically, thanks to Eric Juterbock and Patrick Owen, both of Ohio State at the time, but Pat has since moved on to bigger and better things at University of Cincinnati. Eric is worshiped by all Desmognathus fuscus (Northern Dusky Salamander) as a god, and he showed me the wonder of herps. Pat induced my obsession with Lithobates clamitans (Green Frog, formerly Rana clamitans). I'm 90% convinced the real way to tell Northern Duskies from Mountain Duskies (Desmognathus ochropheaus, a related species studied by Lowell Orr of Kent State University) is to ask them the simple question "Lowell Orr or Eric Juterbock?" Keel or no keel be damned.
2) What made you decide to want to be a surrogate and a donor? Was this realization like a bolt of lightening, or more like a lingering, slow-developing idea?
It was slow, for sure. My mom had talked about wanting to be a surrogate when I was a kid, because she enjoyed pregnancy so much, so the seed was planted at a young age. She never did, because let's face it, when I was young the only option would have been traditional surrogacy, and while she loved being pregnant, I don't think she would have been able to give away a child genetically related to her. I have no such attachment issues, as evidenced by having offered Ken to random strangers on more than one occasion (joking!), and ART has progressed enough that the genetic link is taken out of the surrogacy equation far more often than not, as was the case in my journey. Before Ken, I pretty much hated kids. They were annoying, loud, obnoxious, smelly, and too dependent for my liking. The first few weeks he was around, I was still ambivalent about kids. But we eventually worked things out, and he has since proven to me what amazing things kids can be, and what a life changing experience becoming a parent can be. I think everyone that wants to be a parent should get the chance, regardless of their sexual orientation, but that's not the case with many adoption agencies today. And because discrimination on the basis of an innate trait is wrong whether it benefits the majority or minority group, you can't say homosexuals can have surrogacy but heterosexuals have to adopt. It's equal treatment or nothing. I like to do what I can to help (something else that was ingrained in my head early on), so I became a surrogate. Same with my donations (hair, milk and egg)- I wanted to help, but I didn't want to be pregnant right then because of my crazy schedule, so I did what I could. Being a milk and hair donor were both also ways for me to get the closure I needed after the surrogacy.
3) What are you thoughts on chemtrails? (Call me crazy. I don't mind. =) )
Crazy Meg, this is actually the first I've heard of chemtrails, so all I have to say about them is "Que es esso?"
Now let me know where to send chocolate.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Canning and the Phoenix
I think I'm finally done with canning for this season. Lots of veggies put up, including tomatoes, pickles, sauerkraut, kimchee among others, and fruits consisting of jams/jellies, apples, and peaches. I love canning, and cooking in general. It's a divine act of creation. Especially when it's taking food which you have grown from the soil, and feeding it later to the child which you have nurtured into being. I like that feeling, that I am responsible for creative energy. It's one of the things I like about research- you start with nothing and later have some new idea that hadn't previously existed. Creativity is really the vein in which all of my passions reside- research, pregnancy, nursing, families, art, gardening and cooking. I love creative energy. I love creating.
But I am humbled by the friends I have found in the infertility community. I'm on the periphery of that group, I know. I haven't resided in that place. My only experiences with it are second hand and in assistance. I've never known the heartbreak of it in my own life. This makes me feel extremely fortunate, and forever grateful. It also fills me with admiration.
Those of you who have walked through the valley of the shadow of infertility, you are my heroines. You make me realize all that the human spirit can do, and all that it takes to break the human soul. You endure what I know I could not. You go on where I would give up. You toil and sweat where I would give in and walk away. You do me one better.
For me, my fertility is like secondary succession. The field is ready, everything is there that needs to be and the processes have begun. Things are simple for me, and I realize that.
For you, my sisters, you are primary succession. Only the rawest of materials are there. Life has not existed in this place before. There's a reason the word "barren" has been applied to both people and places. But you struggle on. You begin with a dream, and create a child of your own. You do me one step better. You are the ultimate act of creation- bringing to fruition that which was once no more than energy and wishes. You move universes to bring your child into the world. You prove that life springs from the ashes. You show the strength of the human mind. You prove with all your pain that the Phoenix does rise from the ash. I hurt for all you go through, but awe at the beautiful people that this pain can create. Beautiful adults and children, and beautiful relationships as well. Please don't be upset, I hate the pain that any of my sisters have suffered, but can't imagine my life without your friendships. We are all the summation of our experiences, and you give me comfort that joy can come from pain.
I hope that none of these words hurt any of you, for that is not my intention. These words come from a place of love for all of you, and I hope they come across as such.
But I am humbled by the friends I have found in the infertility community. I'm on the periphery of that group, I know. I haven't resided in that place. My only experiences with it are second hand and in assistance. I've never known the heartbreak of it in my own life. This makes me feel extremely fortunate, and forever grateful. It also fills me with admiration.
Those of you who have walked through the valley of the shadow of infertility, you are my heroines. You make me realize all that the human spirit can do, and all that it takes to break the human soul. You endure what I know I could not. You go on where I would give up. You toil and sweat where I would give in and walk away. You do me one better.
For me, my fertility is like secondary succession. The field is ready, everything is there that needs to be and the processes have begun. Things are simple for me, and I realize that.
For you, my sisters, you are primary succession. Only the rawest of materials are there. Life has not existed in this place before. There's a reason the word "barren" has been applied to both people and places. But you struggle on. You begin with a dream, and create a child of your own. You do me one step better. You are the ultimate act of creation- bringing to fruition that which was once no more than energy and wishes. You move universes to bring your child into the world. You prove that life springs from the ashes. You show the strength of the human mind. You prove with all your pain that the Phoenix does rise from the ash. I hurt for all you go through, but awe at the beautiful people that this pain can create. Beautiful adults and children, and beautiful relationships as well. Please don't be upset, I hate the pain that any of my sisters have suffered, but can't imagine my life without your friendships. We are all the summation of our experiences, and you give me comfort that joy can come from pain.
I hope that none of these words hurt any of you, for that is not my intention. These words come from a place of love for all of you, and I hope they come across as such.
Monday, August 3, 2009
My first award!
So, I got my first blog award. Still sorting out my feelings on the matter. Honored, of course. But who to pick? To what blogs do I pass this distinction? Hmmm- newly discovered. How new is new?
Well, here goes! First, a big thanks to Kelli, this really made my day.
The rules of the "One Lovely Blog Award" are:
Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award, and his or her blog link.
Pass the award to 15 other blogs that you’ve newly discovered.
Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.
Here are a few new blogs I discovered. Check them out, they're lovely!
1. Garfman
2. Meg
3. Robyn
4. Emily
5. Dave
6. Rachel
7. Pamela Jeanne
8. Irish Girl
9. Old Mill (Just admire the pictures)
10. Sprout
11. Farmer Jake
12. Chadwick
13. Kelly
14. Epicurean Athlete
15. Judy
To the observant sleuth, there's an Easter egg in that bunch. Can you find it?
Well, here goes! First, a big thanks to Kelli, this really made my day.
The rules of the "One Lovely Blog Award" are:
Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award, and his or her blog link.
Pass the award to 15 other blogs that you’ve newly discovered.
Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.
Here are a few new blogs I discovered. Check them out, they're lovely!
1. Garfman
2. Meg
3. Robyn
4. Emily
5. Dave
6. Rachel
7. Pamela Jeanne
8. Irish Girl
9. Old Mill (Just admire the pictures)
10. Sprout
11. Farmer Jake
12. Chadwick
13. Kelly
14. Epicurean Athlete
15. Judy
To the observant sleuth, there's an Easter egg in that bunch. Can you find it?
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Happy Birthday.
It's been a year. Today, at 9:52. I think? A couple of friends reminded me that it was today. A year ago today I gave birth to a little girl. I was a surrogate for two men. They might have been called friends once I think.
I'm not sure what to think, really. I'm not sad. I'm not overly happy. It's a fact that just is. That family is a year old now. I hope they're happy and healthy, and that she's starting to do one year old things. Maybe standing, or walking. Maybe making word-sounds.
It all seems so strange and distant. Another life. Perhaps something I read in a book somewhere. Oh, well. C'est la vie, yes?
Happy Birthday JAM.
I'm not sure what to think, really. I'm not sad. I'm not overly happy. It's a fact that just is. That family is a year old now. I hope they're happy and healthy, and that she's starting to do one year old things. Maybe standing, or walking. Maybe making word-sounds.
It all seems so strange and distant. Another life. Perhaps something I read in a book somewhere. Oh, well. C'est la vie, yes?
Happy Birthday JAM.
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