Today marks the start of the second trimester, babies. That early stretch of pregnancy that makes people so nervous is over. Actually, it’s not so much “over” as it is conquered, powered through, and successfully completed by our incredible gestational surrogate, Auntie Pelican, and our beautiful twins.
While it’s most certainly happening, it still seems surreal. New life growing is simultaneously the most simple, everyday event and an absolutely stunning miracle, no matter how it happens. If I summed up what is taking shape in our lives in the most simple of terms, I’d tell you:
“I have eggs and my husband has sperm, but my uterus is long gone. Our amazing friends offered to help after science did its part, and now Auntie Pelican is growing our twins.”
Or I could tell you what the darling preschooler in the Pelican family told me excitedly last week:
“Our mom gots two babies in her tummy, and we’re going to give them to you!”
I wake up every morning and give thanks for so many things. I’ve done so for years. Lately, I’ve been feeling gratitude in my regular way, but also I’m spending a few minutes at the start of every day completely overcome by the joy that is growing just a couple of neighbourhoods away, and by my thankfulness these miracles are unfolding, despite the staggering odds.
Do you remember the first time you jumped into the deep end of the swimming pool as a kid. Think for a moment about that feeling when you felt the heft of water above you and all around you, pressing in on you from every direction, but before your toes touched the tiles on the bottom. Remember being absolutely surrounded in a way you couldn’t anticipate? Remember wondering for a moment, or two, or three, if there was an end to the depth and if you would ever contact something familiar again?
For me, that swimming pool feeling from so long ago was never one of panic, but one of wonder blended with a little uncertainty, the immersion in a new experience. It is also the only way I can describe what I’m feeling right now. I am absolutely surrounded by the joy and love and excitement of this surrogacy, of knowing our babies exist in real life and are growing just as they should be. At the same time, I feel the squeeze of gratitude, the press on all of my cells of so much thankfulness that there are moments when I don’t know when I’ll touch the bottom.
We had our 12 week ultrasound two days ago. It was unbelievable to see our children wiggling and dancing, and being. The Electrician and I have been calling our twins “The Sprouts” for a while, and as of now, they have slightly more elaborate names. I don’t want to always refer to them only as our twins, to tie them together by default because they are going to be born on the same day. These beloved babies will be two separate, distinct people, and I think it’s important to honour that.
Here is the most recent image of “Twin A,” henceforth known as Alfalfa Sprout.
And our second beautiful baby, Broccoli Sprout. I was hoping to call this one Brussels Sprout, but The Electrician could not stomach nicknaming our baby after the food he detests above all others.
How incredible are those little faces?
How can we be so incredibly fortunate?
How can I love two people I haven’t officially met yet so intensely?
These are all questions without real answers, and that’s okay.
We were so very encouraged by the huge wave of love and support that washed over us when we announced the expected arrival of our children. Thank you to all the people who commented, emailed, texted, or even just smiled a little at our news. There are so many incredible humans encouraging us on our quest, and we appreciate all of you.