Jack and Charlotte

Okay. It is time to tell this story. I have resisted telling it for an incredibly long time for a myriad of reasons, but it is time. A specific exchange during the last presidential debate has inspired me to be brave. I hope that I will not lose friends or familial relationships as a result of this admission, but if that is what will happen, I am willing to accept those consequences.

During my third year in law school, I became a surrogate for an Italian couple. The genetic material from both parents was sound, but the wife had lost her uterus due to cancer. At the time, I had been looking for a way to raise enough money to keep fighting for custody of my daughter... and I felt very, very strongly that I wanted to raise this money in a way that would help others. There seemed no better option than helping a couple to become parents, given that I was fighting to be the best parent I could be. Also, I had dealt with some challenging pregnancy-related circumstances in the past and now that I was healthy enough to be cleared for surrogacy, it felt appropriate to give back in this way.

I became pregnant with twins. My views on when "life" begins are complex, but I felt deeply attached to and fiercely protective of these little beings from the moment I was aware of them (and honestly, even before then... fertility treatments tend to do that, I think.)

During the pregnancy, it became apparent that the twins (which I felt in my bones were a boy and a girl) had died. I was told that a surgical abortion procedure was necessary as continuing to carry dead fetuses would endanger my health. My body refused to miscarry, so there was really no other option.

The procedure was beyond terrible. My doctors were incredible and took excellent care of me. But even then, I began to panic in the wake of the procedure, repeating to my significant other, "Something is wrong, something is wrong." He assured me that there was something wrong, which is why this experience was necessary. He was literally never kinder than he was during that time. In the wake of the procedure, my hormones went bananas and the depression was overwhelming. I also suffered multiple hemorrhage episodes that led to multiple stints in the emergency room. My one comfort was that just as I did during Samantha's pregnancy (hence, why she is named Samantha), I had two dreams in which names were revealed to me. Knowing that these little beings were called Jack and Charlotte helped to keep me sane during the grief. It took just over a year to feel like the world was no longer falling out from underneath me.

It will not likely surprise any of my regular readers to learn that I am both a believer in God/deeply spiritual person and pro-life. Because beyond any discussion of when life begins, I do not believe that it is the government's place to tell me that I must (to use this story as an example of one legitimate reason to seek abortion) carry a dead pregnancy to term while seriously risking my own health. One of the lives that must be respected by the government is mine. And even though the entire process was excruciating and forever changed me, I do not regret terminating my pregnancy due to the in-womb death of Jack and Charlotte.

I am sharing this now because I suspect that many of you may not have heard a story like mine. Whether it ultimately influences your position on abortion is personal to you alone. But I believe it is important for stories like this to be shared. And I am also sharing it because "Project Jellybean" is influenced by my loss of Jack and Charlotte. It has been scientifically proven that each pregnancy changes a mother's body on a cellular level. And although I am anxious to meet the Jellybean at whatever time he or she wishes to appear, I will forever be Jack and Charlotte's birth mother as well. And so... there's that.

Embracing Autumn

There is really nothing like being in pain the vast majority of the time to make me truly appreciate the moments that I am not. Similarly, there is really nothing like having to avoid the outdoors the vast majority of the time to make me truly appreciate the times that I can enjoy being outside.

As I have previously mentioned, Lupus flares tend to crop up around severe temperatures... this is why so many Lupus patients end up moving to Southern California beach towns and other steady, temperate climates. But, I live in Minnesota. And I love Minnesota, so I plan to stay here. For better and worse, Minnesota summers and winters are beastly. Much of the year is either oppressively hot and humid or so cold that the temperature and wind chill inspire severe weather warnings that can last for weeks or even months. During these times, I have to be careful to remain indoors or my Lupus flares so badly that it is difficult to get back on track. My pain tends to flare in cold and every other major symptom (fatigue, nausea, eye problems, headaches) tends to flare in the heat.

As a result, the autumn and spring are pure paradise. I am blessed enough to live within a newly certified wildlife habitat. As a result, my property is bursting with greenery, flowers and water features. We also have Adirondack chairs all over the property stationed near fountains and statues, situated in the middle of gorgeous green areas and close to our pools, tennis courts, playground and clubhouse. Finally, we have a newly renovated, spacious area devoted to insanely comfy lounge chairs and couches set next to a number of stone gas rock fireplaces. Any time I am not working, sleeping or doing something necessary inside, you can find me out in one of these places.

I know that this weather will not last for long. Minnesota summers and winters are much, much longer than its autumns and springs. But I am trying not to focus on the short amount of time that I can enjoy the outdoors right now. Instead, I am focusing on being grateful for every single breath breathed beyond the confines of an enclosed room.