November 6, 2011 was hands down the best day of my life so far. It was the day I became a mother.
The day itself was anything but the best day of my life. I was only 26 weeks pregnant, I had been dangerously sick throughout my pregnancy and I was scared we wouldn’t be bringing our son home with us from the hospital. I would later find out that my pregnancy had put my life in danger as well.
Despite the complications and the fear, our beautiful son, Elliott Murray Fletcher, entered the world at 4:34p.m. via emergency c-section. He was just over 13 inches long. He still had one eye fused shut and not an ounce of fat on his perfectly developed little body. He had fine, fuzzy hair all over, he looked and was so fragile. My Grammy said she thought he would fit just perfectly in a two-liter berry basket, and she was right.
Elliott couldn’t breathe on his own in the first weeks of his life, so he had a C-PAP machine and oxygen around the clock. He was in an incubator for 46 days until he could maintain his own body temperature without burning too much energy, and had tubes and wires hooked all over his body to deliver nutrients, monitor his heart rate, breathing and oxygen saturation.
And this is how my husband and I turned to gestational surrogacy to complete our family.
When I was 10 years old, I was diagnosed with Type I Diabetes. All in all it wasn’t that hard to maintain decent control of my sugar levels as long as I ate properly, took my insulin, and tested my blood sugar as instructed. I was aware that I would need to try my best every day for the rest of my life to avoid complications, most importantly so I could have babies when I was ready. I even selected my profession as a dental hygienist, not only based on my love of teeth, but because office hours would be kind to managing my diabetes, and it would make it easier to work part time while also being a stay-at-home mom the rest of the time.
When it was time, I got the go ahead from my doctor to “have as many babies as I wanted.”All of my blood work came back with excellent results and there was no reason I couldn’t have a healthy, although high risk pregnancy (all diabetic pregnancies are considered high risk).
Elliott’s arm while he was still in the NICU. His father’s wedding band fit over his hand.
As soon as we made the life-altering discovery that I was pregnant, my whole life became about testing my blood (when I was pregnant I tested on average 18-22 times per day), eating and drinking copious amounts of carbohydrates to keep my sugar at a safe level, all while trying desperately not to vomit because I was so stuffed and also suffering from “morning sickness.” I was at one doctor appointment or another at least once a week. I had ultrasounds every 2 weeks to monitor our baby. I had a high risk OB/GYN that we had to travel 4 hours to see every 2-4 weeks. I was also very swollen, because my kidneys did not agree with my being pregnant (I had gained a total of 42 pounds when I gave birth at 26 weeks and promptly lost 32 pounds in week, which was almost entirely water weight that my kidneys didn’t have the ability to deal with).
The whole time I was pregnant, I was feeling very overwhelmed, but I didn’t mind too much, because we were going to have a baby, and I was finally going to be a Mom!! It wasn’t a walk in the park, but it was worth every moment, and I would have done it again, if my doctors weren’t so adamant that I don’t ever attempt a pregnancy again, given what was happening to me.
At 25 weeks my water broke and I was admitted to the hospital for another week to try to stave off labor. I was in the hospital for another two weeks after that as it turned out that pregnancy had caused me to suffer from acute nephritis (inflammation of the kidneys), and at that point I had lost about 60% of my kidney function.
One day in the hospital my doctor asked how many children I had. I told him just Elliott so far, and he replied,“well I think he will have to be the only one.”
He said it as gently as possible, and I just said “okay”, because I didn’t want to cry and I was also in shock, despite the circumstances. A few days later, my OB came to talk to me. Her words were “Do not ever let anyone tell you that you can try to have a baby again, another pregnancy could possibly kill you,” and told us we were extremely lucky that Elliott was thriving despite his extreme prematurity.
Elliott had a 90-day NICU stay. Fortunately, he has none of the frequently occurring long-term complications of premature birth. I still count these blessings frequently.
It took me two and a half years to feel like myself again. I was put on 7 different prescription medications to control my blood pressure and help my damaged kidneys. My blood sugar was very hard to control. I was low frequently and postpartum, I couldn’t feel it dropping (this is called hypoglycemic unawareness, and it is extremely dangerous and also life-threatening for a diabetic). On top of it all, I now had a baby to take care of.
I felt defeated. I had always had a positive outlook on being diabetic and now that was gone. I was fed up! I felt like diabetes had taken away so much from me, and it was so painful to know that I wouldn’t be able to give my husband another child, or Elliott a sibling.
But there was hope.
Hope came in the form of gestational surrogacy.
You can read Part Two of Marisa’s Story here.