The date is set. The date to retrieve our egg donor, Meggan's, eggs.
Holy. F*cking. Shit Balls!!!
We just got word that our egg donor, Meggan, has officially started her hormone injections. So for the next two weeks, her life will revolve around doctors visits, hormones, pills and growing as many healthy eggs as possible.
Gooooo Meggan! Gooooo!
This also means that in approximately two weeks, Jonathan will be called upon to "choke the chicken" (as he calls it) and drive his "love seed" in a little plastic cup to the baby-making lab as quickly and safely as possible.
Don't spill the splooge Jonathan! You better protect that spunk with your f*cking life man!
Once he promptly delivers his cup of "man yogurt" to the lab, the reproductive endocrinologist will selectively choose the "athletic swimmers" and will toss the "bench warmers".
The swimmers are then introduced to Meggan's eggs to do the dance.
And so they dance.
But I wonder how his sperm will feel? I mean, they haven't exactly danced with any young, pretty eggs in a while. And definitely not so many of them all at once. Will they be able to perform? Will they even know what to do? Are their dance moves still relevant?
They f*cking better be!
Once the eggs are fertilized, they aren't called eggs anymore, they are called embryos.
More embryos equals better odds. Once we have the fertilized embryos, they will then be frozen and put away until I'm ready to implant them inside of me. Our doctor "hopes" that she grows around 15+ eggs and can retrieve at least 10. So, that way if only half of the eggs fertilize, we'll have 5 embryos to work with. So essentially, 5 tries to get pregnant. Easy as pie, right?
Well, that is if I can actually get pregnant. What if I can't?
This thought really hadn't crossed my mind until now. And I'm freaking the fuuuuck out! The stress is back ON - like Donkey Kong! What if we go through all of this, and I can't carry a pregnancy? What if we have 5 perfect embryos and my body rejects them? What if my uterus is a piece of shit too?
And what if her eggs end up not being that great afterall. She's never been an egg donor before so we have no idea if her eggs are healthy. We just know she is young. What if Jonathan's sperm don't do the job? He ain't no spring chicken either. What if we go through ALL OF THIS and it still doesn't work? Dear GOD!
I'm a f*cking wreck. Just end me. Put me out of my misery!! It's time to put Ol' Yellar down. AHHHHH!!!!
No. No. This WILL work. It HAS to work.
I just need to focus on this next step.
My role right now is to be a cheerleader to my husband.
So, that's what I'll focus on. I've always been better at cheering and coaching then actually playing the sport, so maybe this time it will work.
Okay boys, it's time to dance motha f*ckas!
Crank Dat. Do the stanky leg. Twerk. Lean back. Droppp. Put yo back in to it. Do the f*cking Cat Daddy.
Cum on Boys! It's GO TIME boys!
Yes, I own this costume. Don't judge me. And yes, it's Cowboys cheerleader costume. Sometimes we do really shameful things for love. Even my poor dog's name is Romo. Every season I see him get more and more depressed. But I guess I would to if someone was constantly cursing my name at the top of their lungs.
You could say, I'm a little uncomfortable not being in control.
I'm just a bystander on the sidelines for this part of the process.
It's kinda weird actually. My "motivational" cheers have been a tad more intense than normal. My sperm coaching game is on point, it has to be! My "go get em boys" pep talks have always been solid. But this game is different. We in the big leagues now, son!
Stay focused team. You gotta play to win.
I have to admit, since we made the decision to use an egg donor, I've enjoyed the break from the injections, doctors appointments,ovulating schedules, exams, meds, constant doctors visits, pep talks and other bullshit. I actually kind of forgot about baby making. I almost forgot about Meggan! I've been quite the "Lady of Leisure" lately and it's been f*cking fabulous. I forgot what it meant to have sex when I want to. And to not wear socks. I now remember what it means to cry for a real reason. And OMG, I've been eating DAIRY! AND DRINKING CAFFEINE!!!!!!!!!!
But, vacation is over and the game is back on. My head is back in the game, even though my body isn't. Well, not yet, anyway. We have been anticipating this date for soooooo long. I seriously can't believe we are finally here. I can't believe we are actually doing this. Are we really doing this?
Holy. F*cking. Shit Balls.
You wouldn't believe all the legal documents we had to sign. Thirty two f*cking pages! We were hit with all the horrifying "what-if" scenarios. What happens to the embryos if I die? What if Jonathan dies? What if we both die? What if we get a divorce? Yikes.
It was important to us for the child to have the option to meet Meggan one day. This was something our attorney helped us add into the agreement. Meggan's attorney countered back saying that Meggan will "consider" meeting him/her at the time the child chooses to contact her (that's assuming the agency is still in business and can locate her).
I mean, I get it. Who knows what her life will be like 15 odd years from now. She will likely have her own family, and won't want to disrupt things. How would her family feel? What if she doesn't want them to know?
So, we agreed to Meggan's terms. No guarantees she will meet him/her, but she will at least think about it. And that's good enough for us.
We learned that there aren't any clear cut laws around using egg donors. So, even though we have a signed legal agreement, the law doesn't clearly define me as the mother.
Sigh. And, the law could change at any time and trump our signed agreement. Double Sigh. Luckily, there are proven court cases to reference, and in most instances the "intended" mother won in all of those cases. Our attorney told us that since it is my "intent" to mother the child (not Meggan's) I would "likely" be considered the legal mother if she ever tried to take me to court to sue for parental rights. Isn't that f*cking awesome? But, at least, Jonathan is still the baby daddy, regardless. So, we have that. Ugh.
We also learned that her name isn't actually Meggan, that's just her "profile" name. I wonder why she chose Meggan? And why the two "g's"? Is it like choosing your stripper name?
Mine would be "Summer". With two "m's".
So, we don't know her name. She doesn't know ours. But it's for the best.
Of course the attorney's each have a document that all parties sign with the real names, but we never see her real signature. And she never sees ours.
And so, we take this next step. Team Nino is ready! My pom poms are fluffed and my cow bell is shined. Our team will win! I just know it! Jonathan is an athlete, he does well under pressure. He will make it f*cking RAIN (literally)! It's what he does. He plays to win!
However, I must mention, there is one very serious condition for this to work. Meggan's eggs MUST be retrieved BEFORE the commencement of the NFL football season. If we go past the deadline, Jonathan's head will be in a totally different game.
And this year, it won't just be the Cowboys losing.
Sorry honey, you know it's true.