Call me crazy.

Hi. 

I'm Bianca, people call me Bee. 23 years old living in sunny California. I'm married, have 2 kids and going to be pregnant next month. The 16th of July to be exact. Only thing that sets me apart from lots of other pregnant mommies is... My baby won't belong to my husband. He or she won't look like him, talk or act like him. Because, well... They aren't his. He or she (and possibly THEY) won't be either of ours. 

I'm a surrogate. 

Yeah I'm crazy. Crazy about happiness. Crazy about babies toes and baby snuggles. Bath toys and first words. I'm crazy about the love and affection that is passed between a human being to it's offspring. I cry when I see parents struggle with infertility. My heart drops when I hear about a miscarriage. Probably because I went through one for a weekend. 

When I was pregnant with my first daughter K, I was only 18. I was still living at home at was only in college for a couple months. One day at work, my life changed forever. See, I knew I was pregnant, but I hadn't told anyone yet. I got ready and was waiting to clock in when I felt like I wet my pants. I ran to the bathroom and there was blood. So. Much. Blood. 

I panicked and called my mom. She told me we had to go to urgent care immediately so I told my manager I threw up blood and had to leave. I was shaking. My mom picked me up and Ray met us there. I finally got called in and after explaining what had happened, I was told I'm most likely miscarrying my baby. I didn't know what to do. My heart was breaking. How can I at only 18 years old be so affectionate about this fetus who was only inside of me for less than 8 weeks? Why was this happening? Did I do something wrong? Why won't my body let me do what nature wants me to do and have a healthy baby? 

I went to Rays that night. I cried the whole drive there. I turned the radio to a Christian station and prayed to God that they were wrong. I begged for my baby to be okay. I asked for forgiveness for anything I did to cause this. I cried and I cried and I cried. 

I didn't go to work that weekend, and I was scared of what I would have to go through on my appointment Monday morning. I had no clue what they were going to do, how they were going to do it or how much more I would cry that week. Until the ultrasound....

A heart beat. 

A heart beat and a moving baby. How could this be? They were wrong? My prayers were answered? Did the will of wanting my baby so bad help my body to hold on to something it was rejecting? Who knows. But 30 weeks later, I gave birth to an amazing 5lb 1oz baby girl, just 2 days after my birthday. 

That weekend of pain and sorrow- I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. The thought of my body not wanting my baby hurt me so bad. I'm thankful to every and any factor that went into my baby being there that Monday morning and still being here this Wednesday night. 

That's why I chose this life changing experience. 

To put babies into the arms of those willing and able to raise them. To bring more birthdays and weddings. To help love and happiness show brighter and brighter with each step the babies take. I'm doing this for the moms who cry and blame themselves for the negative pregnancy test results. For the dad's who pick up the pieces that is his wife and be as strong as possible. 

I love babies and happy endings. 

I look forward to spending more time with you all as I write about my journey with this surrogacy. I love to write, but I'm terrible at English, so bear with me. I promise I'll get my they're, their and there's right and if there's a word I don't know if I'm using properly, I'll change the entire sentence. Haha! 

-B