As much as I’d love to maintain a blog based purely on questionable pen reviews, It’s about time to start punctuating these random musings with some insight in to our actual surrogacy adventure. In this post, I’ll ramble on about the significance of time and distance in our surrogacy adventure.
We’ve known our super-awesome-special-friend-who-I-don’t-feel-the-title-“surrogate”-says-enough-about for 4 months going on 4 years now. Which ever way you spin it, four months isn’t long. Prior to meeting, I felt it was wrong (borderline irresponsible) to commit to surrogacy with someone after having just met. I was stuck somewhere between fear and a high horse after learning of other surrogacy stories that went awry. I can’t pinpoint exactly what changed my mind, other than the depth of our conversations changing the significance I placed on “time” to acquaint.
We actually first met Rachel face to face at the Families Thru Surrogacy conference back in May. Every week that passed since, I felt less and less comfortable having not met her immediate family. Especially since beginning some of the formalities involving them all, and especially since uh, their wife/mum wants to carry around a nausea-inducing watermelon for 9 months and then pop it out of her hoo-ha for us out of the kindness of her heart. I needed to know we were all cool.
We had met, but not in the traditional sense (unless you call Skype and exchanging drawings of cats in the post traditional). What if they thought we were freaks? I mean, freaky-axe-murderer-freaks, not the garden-variety freaky-geeks we are. The very premise of meeting strangers from the depths of the Internet is a bit freaky to begin with. We needed to convey an accurate level of freakiness without teetering over to axe-murderer levels. The only answer was meeting in person.
So after a bit of plotting, finally the stars aligned and we set out for the weekend. Sunny Queensland was a welcome break from the frozen desolate wastelands of Adelaide. I’m surprised we have to pay an IVF freezing bill at all this time of year – just pop those babies outside overnight.
I don’t want to write too much about the weekend itself because I’d rather it live on as happy memories rather than in blog-land for all to see; but I will say that taking physical distance out of the equation, if only for a day or two, was really lovely. We’re pretty darn smitten with Rach’s family, and adored Brisbane (well, David wasn’t a fan of driving in mystery tunnels, but I found they added an extra level of fun).
It’ll be interesting to see how distance plays out in our adventure over the coming months and years. There’s a few questions that keep circulating in my mind:
Are we naiive about the difficulties distance will pose? Probably, to a degree – but I’d hazard a guess that most surro-couples are naiive about difficulties in one way or another until they arise. It’s how we deal with it that’ll count.
Will the comfort of real friendship and compatibility outweigh the weight of distance? Hopefully – well, that’s the plan 🙂
I did hurt like a lovesick teenager for a good few days after we parted – is that going to get easier or worse? Probably both.
Will ice cream survive interstate postage? Only time will tell.
I think part of me will always wonder how things would be different if we lived close by; but as with all things surrogacy, it’s a trap to get hung up on things that aren’t reality. One thing’s for sure – our communication is going to be tested above and beyond what it will have in a local arrangement. We’ve signed up for the challenge, and I look forward to seeing how it plays out. I wouldn’t change it for the world, though I certainly wouldn’t complain if I woke up tomorrow and my closet had Narnia’d itself in to some sort of portal to Brisbane.