After a series of conversations, we finally came to the decision that our role as partners was to help fulfill each other’s dreams. My husband told me he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t help me achieve mine: having a child.
Even though it may sound crazy at my age, I never lost hope that it would happen, in whatever form was meant for me—foster parenting, adoption, surrogacy. I once read “things happen in God’s time; not in yours.” That stayed with me.
We worked for three years to get to where we are today. Our path to becoming parents took many turns. We first explored foster care, then adoption, then surrogacy in a foreign country. It really didn’t matter to me, I could love any baby.
So we were on the road to surrogacy when my doctor suggested I meet his best friend, who is a premier reproductive fertility doctor in Los Angeles. When I met Dr. Najmabadi, he asked me several questions about my health. He then said, “You have a young body and spirit. Why do you think you need a surrogate?” I laughed and responded that I was 52 years old! On top of that, I had had an ectopic pregnancy that had left me with only one fallopian tube. “You only need a uterus to carry a child through IVF. You will need a donor egg. I highly encourage you to try.”
“Excuse me?!” I was beyond stunned. I had never considered this, yet had always yearned for a child and the experience of pregnancy. In that moment, he opened a door to possibilities that I thought had been bolted shut.
I walked out of his office in tears, with a reeling mind and a surreal sense of hope. “What if?” The word “never” was suddenly dissolved and unlimited possibilities opened up. I felt like I might have just won the Lotto.
I was still reeling when I got home. I had struggled with several health issues in the past and was fearful that my husband would say I wasn’t healthy enough to carry a child. He surprised me when he said, “Let’s go for it.”