At age 42, RGJ columnist Katie
Dilillo Coombs is preparing to add to her family, thanks to a close friend who
is acting as a gestational surrogate. This is the first column in an ongoing
series about her pregnancy.
A Family
Formed
It is hard
to know where to begin when you want to explain to even those close to you why
you don't feel like your new baby days are over, especially when you already
share 6 kids with your husband. I have never felt done having kids and there
will never be any logic as to why we decided, at my age (42), that it was time
to start the process. We got married when our children were 2, 3, 3, 4, 8, and
11. We both have three children from our first marriages, and when you put it
all together we have 3 boys and 3 girls. They are now 18, 16, 12, 11, 10, and
9. The first thing that pops into my mind when I look at those numbers is that
we are very successful at keeping children growing and aging! That seems like
reason enough, doesn't it?
When we
first got married on New Year's Eve of 2007 (alright, technically we legalized
the marriage at 12:01 a.m. on January 1, 2008 for some smart tax planning), I
was already in the mindset that we would have a child together. My husband
Chris was not ready then, as I think he was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the
2-3-3-4 crowd, which we refer to as "the littles". We still call them
that and probably always will – even when they are 30, 31, 32, and 33. We actually
refer to all of the children by number, which makes them all chuckle.
The Start
of the Dream
The day I
turned 40, Chris brought up the subject of having our baby once more and I
jokingly told him that if he could think of a name in 30 minutes I would seriously
consider it one last time. I hadn't really thought of it for about 5 years as
we so busy with the "littles" and tending to the needs of teenagers
and driving and dating. When the 30 minutes was up, I assumed this conversation
would be over and life would go on. Chris said he had a name. Miles Andrew
Coombs. His explanation was that Miles would represent the road we had both
traveled to get here. Andrew would be the middle name, as my oldest son had
done so much for all of these younger kids. When you put it all together, the
initials were MAC, which was my grandfather's nickname.
I was a
little overwhelmed and felt that I had to honor my promise to consider a baby
one more time. It took me 24 months to finally answer the question and Chris
remained steady in his desire the whole time. We made and canceled a few
appointments with the fertility doctor mostly out of anxiety and fear. We were
also dealing with many losses and deaths that were hard on all of us, and the
date kept getting pushed back one time after the other. This would be Beyond
Uncommon Sense and that is what it has become. Our journey to have at least one
child together became our focus as we headed into the summer of 2014.
The
Challenge
The
difficult part after making the actual decision to pursue this dream is that I
had a partial hysterectomy in 2004, which means I don't have a uterus. For all
of those familiar with human anatomy, this means I can't carry our baby. I have
eggs that can be retrieved and fertilized but we would need a willing surrogate
to carry for us. One of our friends, Robin Stoddard, had offered a few times
throughout the years as she heard us discuss it but then she was busy having
kids of her own. She finally completed her family, and when we decided we were
ready we asked her one more time.
Robin
Stoddard: The Surrogate's Perspective
I met Katie
seven years ago, at the tail-end of my third pregnancy. We were kindred spirits
from the start, talking as if we had known one another our entire lives. I was
new to Reno, but I had found a friend, a friend of my own — not someone that I
would only see as part of a couple. As the years passed, Katie and I would joke
about her desire for another baby, and how I would make the perfect
"oven". The joking took a more serious turn as her children grew
older, and the sadness in her eyes grew more apparent to me with every baby I
saw her hold. So when she asked me if I really wanted to carry a child for her,
I couldn't say yes fast enough.
The decision
to say yes wasn't really even a decision for me — to want to do this for her
felt as natural as… well, as natural as giving birth! She's my friend, I love
her, and if she wants this she shall have it — The End, Love Robin. Talking my
husband into supporting us was not as easy as I thought it would be; his
concerns ranged from the effect on our own young boys to the toll it would take
on my body and psyche — not to mention our connection as a couple. I think I
was genuinely surprised at all this — I have no fear that this surrogacy will
be anything but wonderful for everyone involved. I begin this adventure as I
mean to keep on — steady as a rock in my belief that this baby is meant to
happen, and meant to happen this way.
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