The Journey of K

There are so many ways to start this and I could get into so much detail, but I'll try not to bore you while I tell you how our beautiful 4 year old K came into our lives.

I got pregnant with K when I was 18 years old. I was scared- but at the same time, I was confident. I felt like I was meant to go through what I was going through and it made me more comfortable with the situation. I only knew one girl my age who had her daughter at a young age and unfortunately, I no longer had her contact information, so I depended on my family. They have ALWAYS been there and I knew I could count on them.

The pregnancy with K was great! Aside from the fact that I was told I was miscarrying and the pain that came with it. I craved fruit and the old style jolly rancher chews that apparently no gas station, supermarket, Target, Walmart or other store carried. After discovering I was pregnant, I moved in with her daddy and spent any time I could with him. We rented a house with some close friends and everything was great! I saw my parents often, and talked to a lot of friends daily. Since Ray mostly worked nights, I spent my nights watching The Office until he came home. Life was great! I was all belly and my feet didn't get too swollen. I worked 4-5 days a week on my feet until the day I had her. Yep! I worked fries at In N Out the day before I had K. When I think about it now, I feel like I was crazy. 

The day I had her...

I remember it like it was yesterday. The night before, we were at my parents house celebrating my birthday (May 14th). I felt tensing in my stomach but didn't think much of it since it went away pretty quickly. I ate my birthday cake (enough for two, maybe even three) and left home to our new apartment that was closer to my parents house. It was Ray and I in a 2 bed/2 bath apartment. Not one we loved, but we were in a time crunch and just needed a place ASAP at the time. ANYWAY! I went home, went to bed. Nothing crazy. 

Okay so... If you knew anything about me when I was in my teen years through 18/19, you would know that I like to sleep. Being pregnant only made me want to sleep more, so the only reason I would wake up before 10 AM was because we had a store meeting, or because I worked at 1030 AM. I loved sleep. 

May 16th, I woke up at 8AM because my stomach hurt. Being the first time mommy that I was, I immidiately thought "count your contractions". I had no clue what I was doing so I just decided to call Labor and Delivery and talk to a nurse. She was worried because I had mentioned she wasn't moving as much as she usually does, so they suggested I just go in and get a check. Now my husband who had been up all night playing World of Warcraft (yeah, don't even get me started) was still sound asleep and suggested I go by myself to the hospital because "it probably wasn't anything serious". Yeah... OKAY. 

Off I went to Labor and Delivery. I called my mom and she met me there. They hooked me up to the monitors and took some blood to run some tests because I was only 37 weeks pregnant. After about 2 hours in the hospital, I remembered I was supposed to work that day. I called in and remember saying "Hey, I've been in the hosital for 2 hours and I don't know when I'm going to leave so I might be late to work today." Yes, I promise that's what I said. My manager said "Well, lets take it as you're in the hospital and going to pop any day... why don't we just start your maternity leave today? I'll cover the rest of your shifts." Made sense...

An hour or so later, Ray arrived (I assume my mom told my dad he wasn't here and my dad gave him a little wake up call). We sat in my room and he turned on Nascar. Yep. Nascar. The one thing every pregnant lady asks to watch on her hospital TV, right? WRONG. An hour or so later the nurse says my contractions weren't consistant so there wasn't much for them to do. They were worried about my high blood pressure so they need a 24 hour urine sample. Yep. They wanted 24 hours of my urine. YIPEE. 

I was discharged, went home, and got ready for a BBQ my parents were having for Mother's Day for my Grandma Nancy. My Uncle John was there. I went in the back with everyone else, sat down and started feeling those contractions again. This time though, they were actually hurting. My Uncle John kept looking at me and asked if I was okay. My dad responded for me and said "Oh she's fine. She has another 3, maybe 4 or 5 weeks left". My parents made dinner, but I didn't want any of it. Ray took me to Jamba Juice, then we went by In-N-Out for a burger. My best friends Christiane and Brittany were working. I remember them coming to the window and saying "I thought you were in the hospital?". I told them what happened, then went back to my parents house. I finished my dinner and sat on the couch. 

Contractions. 

Even worse than before. But I tried to hide it since everyone had convinvced me they're just Braxton Hicks. I remember trying to get up from the couch and Ray had to pulll me up, but mid pull I got stuck because... well contraction of course. My parents walked us out to the car and we talked for a bit. My dad again reassured me that I needed to "suck it up because when I'm REALLY in labor it will hurt much more". So I did. We went home and being the awesome daddy to be that he was, Ray remembered taking a bath with some relaxing candles might help kick those practice contractions out so I can get some rest. While in my relaxing bath, I felt calm. Then, they came back. 

CONTACTIONS. 

I fumbled my way to the bed and expressed how much pain I was in and tried to sleep it off. CONTRACTIONS. They wouldn't go away. Finallly, the vomit. I told Ray I felt sick so he brought me a trash can. Not even 2 minutes later, all my Jamba Juice and In N Out had been in the trash can. That moment I think is when Ray started to take me seriously. He then started to count my contractions and not even 5 minutes later, he was running around the house throwing stuff into our hospital bags. 

CONTRACTIONS CONTRACTIONS CONTRACTIONS. 

Suddenly we were in the car on our way to the hospital. It was all such a blur since I was concentrating on not freaking out and just breathing. We got to the hospital and went in through the Labor and Delivery entrance I went through earlier that day. Walking in, the young man working behind the counter informed us that we had to go around the building and into the Emergency Entrance. CONTRACTIONS. I said "IF YOU DON'T LET ME GO UPSTAIRS RIGHT NOW, I'M GOING TO HAVE MY BABY ON THIS FLOOR." He let me through. 

CONTRACTIONS. 

I finally got upstairs and into a L&D room. I was then informed by the nurse that "Ray needs to go downstairs to register you, and I need a urine sample." ARE YOU KIDDING ME. I complied and took the cup and went into the restroom. Nurse comes in and asks "How you doin' honey?". "I fell like if I pee, she's going to fall into the toilet" I responded. CONTRACTIONS. The nurse then had me lay down in the bed and started hooking up the monitors. Nurse checks me and says "Oh my honey, you're ready. I think you've been ready." In my head I'm thinking "OMG I've been telling everyone all day and NO ONE has been listening to me." Thankfully, my midwife was there covering someone else's shift. As soon as she walked in, I was so relieved. "I'm ready when you are" she said. 

One push.

My midwife told me my water had not broken yet so she's going to break it for me to help with pushing (or something like that-I don't really remember). 

Two push. 

I look up and notice both Ray and mom have made it by my side. No words can describe how happy I was to have my momma by my side. The woman who dedicated her life to making me happy and made sure I had an amazing life. I was ready. 

Three push. 

BABY. 

My sweet girl, my first girl. 3 weeks early, but healthy. Five pounds and an ounce. Everything changed. She was beautiful, and she was mine. I could go on about my emotions when they put that precious girl on my chest, but in a nutshell-she was perfect. 

My dad, grandparents, aunt, uncle, cousin, mother in law, father in law, two sister in laws and Regan were there. My heart was so happy. From the pictures, I looked like hell.... but it was so worth it. My girl was finally here and in my arms, we were surounded by the ones we love most. It doesn't get much better than that folks! 

Ray took this picture just seconds after she was placed on my chest and after we became parents of this sweet girl. We held her skin to skin for about 3-4 hours. Maybe a little tooo long seeing as she had her first bowel moment right in daddy's hand. Nothing says "welcome to parenthood" like a handful of meconium from your first born. 

So I tried to make it short but it probably sounds longer than I intended. In reality, it was a very short labor. I was most likely in labor for less time than it took you to finish this post. Let's just say I went through In N Out drive through around 6:30PM and K was delivered at 8:58PM. So I went from being in okay condition, ate, went to my parents for a little bit longer, went home, got in the bath, got to the hospital and got situated in 3 hours. lol 

This folks is one of the signs that stuck out to me and told me I was meant to do this! My labors are in no way complicated and my active labor goes by very quick! I love babies, and I can't wait for 10 months to come by so I can deliver a baby for my intended parents and see the look on thier little one's face when they see they have a little sibling. 

Hope you enjoyed my story of how K was brought to us and I hope to see you next time when I talk about how S came about! Have a wonderul night! 

Shots shots shots shotsSHOTSshots!!

Okay so I was going to write earlier this week about the pregnancies and deliveries of both my girls, but when I started typing, the words weren't coming to me so I decided I should wait until my heart was in it. 

Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love talking about my pregnancies and deliveries as much as the crunchy mom next to me, but sometimes the words come out better on other days. 

Anyway! Shots... 

Saying I hate getting shots is an understatement. I remember my brother being in the hospital for strep pneumonia (I think that's what it was-my 8 year old mind might be playing tricks on me) and feeling like I was going to pass out when they had to give him an IV. I never felt that feeling again... until 2 nights ago. 

I started taking the small tummy injections on June 16th. Despite the fact that it took me about 456 times of saying "Okay... Ready?- Okay... Ready? One, two- Okay ready?" as my husband stood behind me laughing "yes babe, I'm ready...", I did it and I was pleasantly surprised that it hurt no more than the tiny Lalaloopsy toys I step on everyday. Actually, it didn't hurt nearly half that pain. It was quick, easy and... over. 

My nightly Lupron injections were a piece of cake. I even let K watch me the night she got her shots from the doctor (which is a story in itself). Then Thursday came. Thursday I started to take the bigger needles on my bum. The video seemed like a piece of cake, but it FREAKED. ME. OUT. I couldn't even give myself the teenie Lupron shot I had been doing for DAYS with no problem. 

I cried.

I'm not gonna lie. I was so frustrated, I walked over to the bed and asked my husband to please come help me because I can't do it myself. Because he loves me so much, he quickly walked me to the bathroom and told me it was okay and reassured me I was more than capable of doing this. With his support, and the thought of my intended parents happiness, I did it. 

Then came the big bum needle. 

So from all the YouTube videos I watched, I could go slow and be okay even though "in the motion of a dart" is what the suggested video told me to do. So I put the needle on my bum and lightly pushed it into my skin. I felt the needle pierce but felt no pain, so I finished placing the needle and about half way through I remember saying "I feel reeeeeeally dizzy" and felt my husband wrap his arms around me to catch my fall. Yep, my fall. I felt my knees buckling as I was injecting the oil and remember thinking "I will NOT fall because with my luck, I'm gonna fall on the damn needle and hurt myself even more. Let me finish injecting and then I can pass out." 

Yes, those were my thoughts. After I injected and pulled the needle out, I thought "Hey that wasn't that bad!". But let's remember, I'm still super dizzy and I still can't stand on my own. So my thoughts might be different next time I inject (Tuesday). 

For the record, yeah my butt still hurts, but it's probably cause I injected the needle super slow. 

I'm hopeful that my injection on Tuesday goes a bit better than this past Thursday. Although I dislike shots, I'm still excited for this journey and I know every needle is worth it for these parents. I'm so thankful for my healthy body and happy to be able to carry for this amazing family. 

Stay tuned, because next post will be about the Journey of K, unless I decide to make a video (as promised to some of my favorite Facebook mommas) and talk more about my shots. 

Hope you all have a lovely weekend- until next time! 

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