What a birthday present – five ova and the opportunity to make my baby. Nice.

There was some performance anxiety, a tight schedule (I had to go to work afterwards) and the overwhelming fear of not producing my best boys. I mean this is it, this all I do. The ladies do so much more, and are in more, many more, uncomfortable and complicated processes. I am required for all of ten minutes. Well, with all the tension and planning and fear in my head, it was 30 seconds. Leaping into car, with the time limit and beating joburg sun, I handed over my withdrawal like an embarrassed school boy. “hmmm, let’s see… yes these are useless.”

So I am shown to a little room with a couch (surely a living orgasm by now with all its use), a basin, a specimen jar and a couple of mags rolled up. Yup. All was going okay, until my embryologist in the next office got a phone call and had a chat about me…”Yes, he is here. It’s his birthday, he has five lovely presents waiting…”. Focus Gavin, get back on the horse, and ride like it’s My Fair Lady “Come on, Dover, move yer bloody arse!”

The day before had been a rising panic attack. My poor friends, Chemeli, Ryan, Jen, Sarah and Gorm were locked into a trap of forced company. What fears! This is it, the last moment to back out. Was I sure? Was I making a mistake? I mean am I doing the right thing, this poor child, my issues, my poor health, my age…was I too selfish? Was I going to be able to do this alone? Would I manage all the changes? Why not stay single and childless and roam the world with all my expendable income? As Joburg experienced one of its hottest days on record, with moans of “i feel sick.” “I want to go home.” I whisked them all to Monte Casino. When they finally got free. I found a movie to disappear into, who knows what it was about…but I finally got to the end of that day. and well, as you can guess, I was alright in the morning.

Now, today, two fertilized ova have been implanted into the surrogate. It’s Implanation Day. One ovum was already 8 cells, the other 4. They will support each other and in in eight days we will take blood and see if they ‘took’.

Come on, Moet and Chandon, move your bloody arses! ATTACH!

I have received many spectacular presents in my life. One of my mother’s precious silver bracelets, or a trip to Australia among them.

Last week when I was meditating on my upcoming birthday I put in my secret wish – please let that be the day I get an email saying “Dear Mr Peter, we can go ahead and begin.” Well, the stringing beetle did one better, 11 November, turned out to be the day I got to try and make my baby.

i am not sure I will make a big thing of it with my child – “hey, kid, I made you on my birthday, isnt that cool?’…but for me it really was special.

And complicated. First there is the planning. The ‘boys’ have to be kept at body temperature and be used within an hour of ‘withdrawal’. So schedule for the day has to include laying out of clothes, do i shower first, anything else to take to school, special birthday badge put next to keys, next to phones, next to wallet, next to pre made coffee, next to door. Plus the physical preparation, you want to be cleansed at that moment, just pure, shining like an Olympic athlete, having eaten so much omega 3 that you are practically a saumon. not a drop of alcohol coursing through my veins, a stick of broccoli, or a stack of fresh spinach – yes that’s what i will be by monday… I mused…

I mean, the donor has to halt her period, then restart, then take a stimulus to make her produce more ova than normal. Then be ‘aspirated’ – a process I am still too shy to get clarity on…

then the surrogate. well besides carrying a child inside you for 9 and 3/4 months and all that, there are the processes now, three months of pills, creams, drugs and fingers crossed they are gone – injections (one per day for three months).

I just have to shoot into a specimen jar…time taken…five minutes.

So this is now on my mind. the need for perfection drives me to rise like a lark and start exercising…it is really sleep exercise at that time of the morning, took me an hour an a half and much wandering around in the middle.

oh – let us flash back to the Dimanche Terrible – and here is a thank you shout out to my poor unsuspecting friends Sarah, Gorm, Ryan, Jen, Lucas and Chemeli, who were trapped into my ‘I am having second thoughts, I dont want to do this, get me out of here’ day. I mean, i had to be honest. was i sure. this was the last time, my last chance to change my mind. yes it might seem crazy, but, truly, I was in full blown panic on that sunday. When they thought they were going to escape home, I kept them together and herded them around Monte Casino, knowing that if I was alone I would have to think about this panic. So through the blazing heat, and then a thunder storm, they chatted and I let steam out of the volcano inside me, gently, puff by puff. When they finally escaped at sunset. I tried to plan a busy evening. The only solution was a movie for distraction. The result was a calm Gavin who went to sleep that night. Not unsure anymore of his choice or journey, but holding all the emotional reins tightly.

Awake – it is your birthday. the schedule goes well, the planning is executed. I even have time for a little Graham Norton to make me smile. Then it is time. Good luck. Ha – performance anxiety is the best version of what happens next. Five minutes…30 seconds later it is all over. And I leap into go go go. clothes, stuff, car. drive drive. get to clinic. It is all laughter and bells. “oh its your birthday” la dee da. “well, lets have a look at those.” hmmmm. ‘I am afraid these are useless. no good’. All i had collected was the…’opening act’- the curtain raiser, so looks like a show, has all the potential, but not the real deal.

So i go into the wee room now. ‘Lock that door behind you.” There is a couch. A basin. A couple of magazines rolled up. Right Gavin, you can do this. Emotional recall you at 16. You could do it without a second thought in every single imaginable place. Back I go in my mind. Somehow when i was planning, i thought that i would be channeling overwhelming feelings of love and hope or something at this point to mystically go into the sperm. Ah, I am full of love, ah I am blessed, this is amazing, the world just strings…suddenly, i hear a voice. it is my embryologist. Confident, Afrikaans-accented, loud and echoing through the wall from the next door office “Yes, I am glad you called. Yes he is here. Oh, it is his birthday. How exciting. We have a lovely present for him…” and so it continues.

But the 16 year old finds the override button and we succeed.

yes we succeeded. Today I feel a little at a loss after all this planning and preparing. That was it.

Last night I bought myself some champers and some chinese food. I ate in my car, but thought it wise not to drink in there…so i went to watch the staff play their weekly game of football, with the lights of Joburg in the distance and the only spectator, a moment to reflect and enjoy the memory of birth/conception day. I felt happy, content. I am lucky, I have such a tale to tell this kid!

We take a break from our regular programming to bring you a message from Kate and Eli:

“Last night I was helping Eli into his pyjamas and we were talking about how much he wanted to go back to Danma’s (Tadanwa’s) house to play. And then I told him that soon Danma would also have a little baby because Primrose was going to have a baby. The conversation went like this:

I stumbled into the garage looking for a container and found my baby store…cot, car seat, stroller, bath…is this my nursery? Shouldn’t I have a room, any be thinking of collages for the wall, or finding a comfy rocking chair?

My thoughts fly back to Harare and 2300 Jackson Street and actually more and more the realisation that that is all in the past. I have to build again. One day I will return to no 35 but it will not be for a long time and definitely not the night I bring baby home. So, where, oh where, will I bring my baby home to that wonderful day? It can’t be the garage at here. It can’t even be my one room. It can’t be this house. My poor roommates, ha, that is not what they are signing up for in a housemate.

I suppose I am like everything in this journey getting ahead of myself. I only have a few follicles at this point, not a baby in sight.

I will shut the garage door.

yay – we got two periods – Graham commented that most people need one menstruation period to get pregnant, I need two… 🙂

So surrogate started, which meant she could start taking her medication (two of this, three of this, one of these on third day, three of these on 4th, 5th, 6th day etc etc.) good grief. when my surrogate texted me on Sunday to get clarity again on which pills when, I luckily had kept a copy of the script from the pharmacy and I was still confused. Anyway, we got it all wrong, but it is okay because at our Embryologist visit on monday, all looked well up in there and implantation could be soon, in a week or two possibly.

that’s one.

Number two started seven days later. – my donor. she will go and see the embryologist on thursday. she has ‘follicles’ looking good. Follicles…hmmm – i am familiar with les Follies Bergeres, follicles, mais, bah, qu’est-ce qu’il y a?

cue: dr. graham again – “follicles are the things the eggs mature in the ova.”  That is good news and if all is as good on thursday she will be ready for … Aspiration.

now that sounds like breathing. no that’s respiration. anyway i suppose it is a nicer word that ‘harvesting’ which gives it a Matrix like tinge.

hmmmm… aspiration. implantation. something in between. my big role. whilst these two ladies, who are such the heroines of the tale currently, are busy busy busy, I must prepare myself for the 30 second contribution. This moment is actually quite inspiring. It has pushed me on the wagon, and into a stepped up exercise programme. I mean, it all comes down to that moment. I must put everything into preparing and offer my best best best. Best best best.  it is a warm comforting excitement, a feeling of energy and focus and a connection to everything inside me – a sensation of the possible and of pride, of satisfaction and confidence. It is ownership of myself as I have never felt before. I prioritise. I focus. I see progress. I am in control of this aspect and I will not feel regret or guilt. this is all happening and boy is it starting to string. 🙂