I'm finally publishing the surrogacy writings, because we're at 12 weeks and it's time to start celebrating. 

If this is confusing, skip a few posts back. Short story : I'm baking my best friend's baby. 

I'm so happy to be carrying this baby. He is something so positive and pure amidst the chaos that is being a working mom / alive in this weird time. When I get wrapped up in all the projects that I need to start and finish, I can mentally escape to baby island, where I'm doing all the right things, and the streets are paved with cheese. 

Since my first baby post, we've had 2 ultrasounds. I'm OFF meds!! No more progesterone butt shots, no more butt lumps. It's all going super well, and the emotions that flow from 2 new parents seeing their baby on a screen could make my heart explode. The amount of effort that Marissa and Johnathon have gone through to get here is astounding. I think the patience they've gathered is like zen master buddha mother of 12 level. So many years of waiting, and waiting, and surgeries, and needles, and paying. I hope my contribution, in addition to a womb, is appreciating the effort that IVF requires. And hopefully sharing the story will help someone who's struggling with it see that there's a light at the end of this tunnel. 

My husband Ben has been getting more excited, which is so helpful when I'm feeling shitty and tired. I'm generalizing, but I think it's hard for husbands to feel connected to pregnancy. Surrogacy is even more removed, except for the fact that baby-dude belongs to our very close friends, who he loves dearly. Ben always expressed that he wanted us to do this for them, I think a sentiment very foreign to even himself. He's practical. I'm more unicorns. But the closeness that parenting and baking a baby can create between partners is probably better than therapy. As long as we're able to get away to date night and laugh about it. 

I'm extra narcoleptic this week, so I'm keeping this post short. More to come, we'd love you to follow along.