‘Good luck with the transfer,’ she said, the gurgling of a newborn in the background.
Stacey inspired me; a nurturing mother, calm and caring, she went about her days with an ease I envied. I’d leave her house with my own two children wondering how she managed three kids while pregnant with another. Nothing seemed to faze her; she made mothering look easy.
When I hung up, Stacey sent me a picture of my adorable new niece. Wrapped tight in her blanket, she had that squashed, just-been-born look about her.
I smiled and gathered my thoughts, then collected my luggage and messaged Justin. As he replied, I walked outside and spotted their car a hundred metres down the road. We greeted each other and hugged, and a mix of emotions swirled inside me. I could sense the boys’ jubilation. They had waited so long for this moment, and so had I. In twenty-four hours I could be pregnant, the path to their baby a reality.
‘I’m so excited to be here,’ I said.
‘We are too,’ said Justin. ‘We just can’t believe it’s finally happening.’
As we set off on the ninety-minute drive from the airport to their property, I told the boys about my sister and the speedy arrival of baby Sophie. They were thrilled for her, and the news also cemented the fact that in nine months’ time they too could be having a baby, experiencing the same emotions as my sister – joy, excitement and love.
‘You know my best friend, Kate, the one I own the salon with?’ Justin said, twisting around in his seat. ‘Well, it’s official. She’s twelve weeks pregnant.’ He smiled with delight. ‘We’d like to take you to meet her tonight at dinner, if that’s okay?’
‘Of course, I’d love to meet her. How awesome is that? You’ll both have babies together. They might be best friends too.’
‘Yes, that’s what we hope.’
The western suburbs of Sydney scrawled out before us in a mass of blotted colours – green, grey and brown – under a clear blue sky.
‘Are you nervous?’ Jon asked, glancing at me in the rear-view mirror.
‘I am a little,’ I admitted. ‘I want the transfer to work first go. There’s a lot of responsibility on my shoulders and I just hope my body accepts the embryo and does what it’s supposed to do. I have a good feeling about it, though.’
‘It’ll work. This is it, I know it is. I’ve said it all along, this one embryo is our baby,’ Justin said, rubbing his hands together. ‘You’ve done so much preparation with the acupuncture. I know it’s going to work.’
I slid my hands under my legs and chewed my bottom lip. I would feed off Justin’s certainty, his confidence and positivity helping to boost my own. He believed it would work, and if I did the same then surely we stood a chance.
I woke earlier than my alarm the next morning, before the sun had a chance to pierce the clouds. The dawn song of the currawong in the tree outside my window enticed me out of bed, as if encouraging me to meet the day with hope and fortitude. Switching on the light in the bathroom, I scurried to the shower. I was to be naked from the waist down in front of complete strangers today, so I washed my body thoroughly. I dressed and met the boys for breakfast in the kitchen.
‘We’re on a tight schedule. It’ll take us a good hour and a half to get into the city with traffic, so we better get going soon.’ Jon filled a bowl with cereal as he spoke. ‘Your first acupuncture appointment is at 8 am.’ He glanced at his watch.
Based on clinical trials, acupuncture was well regarded for fertility treatments and the IVF clinic employed several therapists to treat clients just before and directly after a transfer, promoting blood flow to the uterus. My first appointment today was to prepare my body for the transfer at 9 am, after which I’d return to the acupuncture treatment rooms for another session. During the past week, I’d also had several appointments with Kim to prepare my body for the procedure.
‘I don’t know how you do all that acupuncture.’ Jon shivered, pouring milk over his cereal. ‘I can’t stand needles, I’d faint.’ He looked up at Justin, who stepped into the kitchen, rubbing a towel over his wet hair.
I laughed. ‘If I couldn’t stand needles, I don’t think I could be a surrogate. I’ve had so many needles in the last seven days, I have bruises on my arms.’ I pulled up my sleeves and showed him the results of the series of blood tests.
Jon winced. ‘You poor thing. Seriously, I’d faint.’
‘But you must see some shocking things in your work?’ I said.
‘I don’t have an issue with blood or dead bodies or even seeing someone else with a needle in their arm, but just knowing one is coming for me, I can’t stand it.’
I pondered the things Jon must have seen – the violence, the discord, the sadness and even malice in some people. As I scrambled two eggs in a pan for my breakfast I remembered something he had said to me at our first meeting: In my line of work I see the worst of people. It was hard to imagine that anyone would offer to be our surrogate until we met you. Those words played over in my mind, warming my heart, building the foundations for the courage I’d need later in the day.
After we’d all had breakfast, we gathered up bags and phones and headed for the car. Outside, Walter circled my legs several times, licking and sniffing me, as if he knew what was about to happen and was wishing me well.
With the early morning such a rush, I hadn’t had time to stop and think, ponder what was about to happen to my body. As we drove into the city I reflected on dinner last night with Justin’s best friend, Kate. Meeting her had brought me deeper into Jon and Justin’s world. Kate was thrilled that the boys were on the path to parenthood and that they could quite possibly be having a baby three months after her first child was born.
‘Good luck tomorrow, I hope everything goes well and it’s not too uncomfortable for you,’ she had said as she hugged me goodbye.
‘Thank you.’ I gestured to her belly. ‘I hope the rest of your pregnancy goes smoothly. I wish I wasn’t so far away, we could’ve been pregnant together.’
A car horn beeped and then a screech of tyres on the freeway pulled me out of my thoughts.
‘That was close, did you see that?’ said Jon, flicking the indicator to change lanes.
‘How are we running for time?’ I asked.
‘We should be fine,’ Jon said. ‘We’ll have to get you a bottle of water. Don’t you need to drink a litre an hour before the transfer?’
‘Yep, I do, and I’m dreading it.’ I laughed, hoping I wasn’t left in some waiting room busting for the toilet.
As we hit peak hour traffic, the flow into the city congested. The journey took a little longer than expected, Jon dropping Justin and me out the front of the clinic before he sped off to find a park. We dashed through the automatic glass doors, running over the expanse of marble flooring towards the elevator.
‘The water,’ I shrieked, turning to Justin.
‘Oh, the water.’ Justin froze, looking back at a café outside the building. ‘I’ll get it. You just go up and let them know we’re all here.’
I nodded and ran to the elevator, checking my watch as it clicked over to 8.05 am. I pressed the button, my heart racing, the pulse beating inside my throat, not only because we were late but for what lay ahead. Justin was back by the time an elevator arrived, and he thrust a large bottle of water at me.
‘Thanks,’ I said, stepping inside and rolling my eyes at the mirror. I lifted the bottle to my lips and gulped. It was cold, my throat constricting, and I coughed as the doors closed. My belly swelled halfway through the litre. I forced down a few more gulps before the ping of the elevator indicated the doors were opening.
In the clinic waiting room, Justin spoke to the receptionist. We took a seat and I continued to drink, finishing the bottle.
‘Argh, I’m so full,’ I said to Justin, patting my stomach. ‘Look, it’s like I’m already pregnant.’ We laughed and both turned to see Jon step through the door from the lifts, his cheeks flushed.
A woman with long dark hair and a black shirt and
skirt appeared. ‘Shannon?’
A surge of nerves fired through me as I glanced at the boys, placing the empty bottle on the coffee table. ‘I’ll see you soon.’
Jon and Justin nodded, settling back into the couch among the spray of lime-green cushions.
I followed the woman into a treatment room. Her name was Bree.
She explained the treatment and asked me to lie on the bed. As she told me to relax, her voice soothing and reassuring, I was reminded of my sessions with Kim at home. We chatted briefly about the surrogacy and the benefits of acupuncture for the transfer before I closed my eyes, let the tension in my limbs melt away, and tried to deflect concentration from the pinpricks as the first few needles pierced the skin on the tops of my feet. Bree gripped the end of a needle, rapidly twisting it between her thumb and index finger, garnering a ball of energy under the insertion point and at times the pain became too much to bear. I’d tense my body, breathe out, on the verge of telling her to stop. It was part of the process, one I didn’t like, but I knew it increased the effectiveness of the treatment, encouraging blood flow.
Bree moved to the doorway and dimmed the lights. ‘I’ll be back every ten minutes to check on you. Just close your eyes and relax.’
The door shut and I did as Bree suggested, closing my eyes again and willing the needles to work their magic – to put my body in perfect balance to accept and carry the boys’ precious embryo.
Resting in stillness, blackness, I acknowledged the breath that entered and left my body. It wasn’t forced or calculated, moving naturally in and out, in and out. The outcome of the transfer wasn’t to be forced either, but would happen without my conscious control. I had to put my body in the hands of the universe and hope that all our dreams would be answered, that the embryo placed inside my womb would be accepted and nurtured by a full-term pregnancy. Another leap of faith.
Light flooded the room, and the calming music softened at the iPod docking station on the bench. Bree moved around the table, resting her warm hand on my shin. ‘How are you feeling?’
I lifted my head off the bed an inch and whispered, ‘I’m good, really good.’
‘That’s great. I’m finished with you, then – until after the transfer, of course.’
Bree removed the needles, wiping my skin with a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic. My thoughts moved ahead to the transfer; the clinic nurses had filled me in on what to expect, but a sense of the unknown lay weighted in my gut like a stone.
‘Okay, Shannon, just take your time getting up and I’ll see you after the procedure. Good luck.’ Bree gave me an encouraging smile.
I dressed, pulled on my shoes and walked into the reception area. Jon was flicking through a magazine while Justin scrolled on his phone.
‘I’m all done.’
‘Gosh, that was quick,’ Jon said, tossing the magazine to the coffee table. ‘We better go upstairs for the transfer, but I’ll just pay for the acupuncture while I’m here.’ He walked over to the reception desk, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket.
‘How’d you go?’ Justin asked, standing up, straightening his jacket.
‘Fine, it’s just like being at home with Kim. I’m used to it now.’
‘That’s good. You look relaxed anyway.’ Justin nodded, making his way to the door.
I grinned, acknowledged my nerves and wondered how I could possibly look relaxed. We waited for Jon and then filed through the door to the elevators.
‘Oh no, I need to go to the toilet already,’ I said softly, wiggling my legs, the fullness of my bladder pressing. ‘I hope this doesn’t take too long. There’s a running joke between my close friends – I have a bladder the size of a pea.’
The medical rooms were less inviting, stark and white, with signs on walls – Stop! Wash your hands! – and a light grey curtain pulled across an entranceway to our right. A tall blonde receptionist asked me to follow her as she pulled the curtain back, runners screeching along the metal rail. I turned to the boys, my heart beating wildly, my body tense.
‘Don’t worry,’ the blonde said. ‘I’ll come back and get you guys when she’s ready.’
Beyond the curtain the blonde ushered me into a cubicle. ‘Now, Shannon, remove all your clothes and put on this blue surgical gown. Cover your feet with these blue slips and put your belongings in a locker, through there.’ She pointed through a crack in another grey curtain before shutting the door.
I stripped, freezing in the brisk air-conditioning, tucking my arms into the stiff gown before connecting the velcro at the back. I sat down and slipped my feet into the tissue-thin covers, snapping the elastic around my heels. Then I gathered up my belongings, took them out and stuffed them into a locker.
I returned to the cubicle and sat down, thumbing the locker key, knees jigging up and down, firstly to stave off the propulsion of nerves and secondly to distract my brain from telling me I needed to go to the toilet. I leaned against the wall behind me, studying the posters about good hygiene and a range of fertility treatments, singling out the words help, support, dream and life.
Fifteen minutes crawled by. No one had appeared to take me on to the next step.
Another fifteen minutes and my bladder felt as though it was about to rupture. I held my knees together, pressing bone on bone, as hard as I could.
‘Shannon?’ A nurse queried, pulling back the curtain. ‘I’m so sorry for the delay. How’re you doing?’
I released my knees, distracted. ‘Good. Busting but I’m ready.’ I smiled, standing, smoothing the creases in my gown.
‘Yes, you’ll be busting for quite a while, I hope you can hold it.’
I read her name tag – Julie. She waved me through the curtain, padding down the corridor in her sneakers covered with slips, her blue scrubs making a swishing sound.
‘Follow me and I’ll get you set up with some paperwork. While you’re signing that, I’ll go and get Jon and Justin for you. Are they coming in for the procedure?’
My head jerked back. ‘Ah, no, they’re not.’ I laughed, imagining myself lying on the bed in all my naked glory while the boys sat in the corner looking on. Giving birth was one thing – of course I’d let them see their child being born – but I wasn’t comfortable with them coming in for the transfer and I guessed they wouldn’t be either.
‘Right, I completely understand.’ Julie giggled. ‘Follow me.’ She almost glided over shiny white floors, past rows of curtains that hid women and their partners in their own private bays. I could see their feet covered in blue slips exactly like mine, toes wriggling, nervous. Julie stopped, directing me to sit down in my own bay that housed three chairs and a table.
I read and signed the relevant paperwork, Julie checking over my details once more before yanking the curtain closed, off to collect the boys.
The tightness in my bladder absorbed my thoughts like a sponge. I should’ve been thinking about the impending miracle but I was a slave to my bodily function, worrying how long the procedure would take, how long before I had relief. I chewed my nails, clicked the pen, tapped my feet, reading the consent forms again – about to be impregnated with someone else’s child, responsible for the growth, nurturing, wellbeing, birth.
I grinned as Justin pulled open the curtain slightly, his eyes questioning.
‘Come in,’ I said, patting the seat next to me. ‘Sit down.’
‘Have you seen Dr Ryan yet?’ Jon asked as he followed Justin, closing the curtain behind him.
‘Not yet, I think they’re running late, it’s well past my appointment time.’
Justin checked his phone. ‘Yes, it is late. Hopefully you won’t be too long.’
‘Are you guys nervous?’ I asked.
‘Yeah, a little,’ Jon said. ‘I just hope it works.’
‘It’ll work. That’s our baby, I’m sure of it.’ Justin shook his head, looking up at the ceiling.
Dr Ryan appeared, sheer-stocking-covered legs poking out beneath a white lab coat, blue slips over her
shiny high heels. She smiled kindly, her eyes bright. ‘Hello, Shannon. Are you all ready for your transfer today?’
‘I’m ready. Busting, but ready.’
‘I bet you are. Good thing is the procedure only takes five to ten minutes, so you can go to the toilet straight after that.’ Dr Ryan took my file off the table, tucked it under her arm. ‘Now, Jon and Justin, are you coming in too?’
‘No, we’re staying right here,’ said Jon. ‘I think Shannon would be more comfortable with that.’
‘Okay.’ She glanced back to me. ‘Now, you’ve used all the progesterone pessaries leading up to today?’
‘Yes, I have.’ I cringed at the thought of inserting another one of those messy little bullets in my rear.
‘Fantastic, Shannon. If you’d like to come with me, please?’ Dr Ryan gave Jon and Justin a final nod before she walked down the hall. I followed, holding my arms up around my sides, trying to pull the fabric closer to my skin for warmth.
Dr Ryan scanned a card on a sensor, pushing through a set of double white doors after the red light changed green. We came to another set of doors with a sign reading Authorised entry only, Dr Ryan holding the door open for me. Large and sterile, the room was filled with artificial light, bouncing off stainless steel equipment and white walls. A single bed with stirrups held centre stage along with an ultrasound machine. Two nurses stood by, nodding to Dr Ryan, then acknowledging me with quick smiles.
‘Shannon, please hop up on the bed and place your legs in the stirrups,’ Dr Ryan said, sitting down on a stool at the base of the bed and picking up a pair of gloves from a steel trolley.
Uncomfortable, I shifted myself along the bed, lying back and, for modesty, pushing an indent of fabric between my legs. But as I lifted my legs into the stirrups I realised I couldn’t afford modesty, and pulled my gown up my thighs to enable my legs to settle into the holds. I felt exposed, and my hands trembled as I gripped the sides of the bed. We were all women in the room but I still felt shy and awkward.
Labour of Love Page 10
