Sunday, December 14, 2008

Dear Baby M

We just got the phone call today from the doctors telling us that our surrogate is pregnant. I'm going to sound exactly like every other dreamy-eyed mother when I write that I'm already falling in love with you, althoughyou are only a handful of cells that's just barely managed to lodge itself into the uterus of a woman I met only once for 5 minutes.

For that's the strange and miraculous way you came to be made, half-way around the world in a non-descript hospital laboratory. Here are the people who helped you come to be:

  • Two enthusiastic Indian doctors
  • A determined, shy, and very tiny Hindu woman named Rajeshree who will carry you in her uterus in exchange for money that will help her improve the life of her own family
  • An inquisitive, outgoing Muslim woman named Neha who has a beautiful smile and silky black hair, who provided the genetic material we needed to make you
  • And Us, your very jetlagged, emotionally overwhelmed Dadam and Ima, who wanted you so badly that we flew across the world and trusted this team of strangers to help us get you. You had so many chances not to be created and against all the odds, there's the fact that you now exist, madly dividing your cells and developing organs and limbs.

Now that we're back in the peace and quiet of our little Denver existence, it all seems so unreal, and yet, sooner than we can imagine, you're going to arrive as our little despot, sending us scurrying to meet your every need. Which we will do with great gladness. I'm already imagining the moment you're put in my arms, red and wailing, and the quiet joy of having your little fist close over my thumb. We can't wait to meet you, little baby M.

Love, your Ima