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. 🙂

four weeks is the unofficial standard minimum time for any progress in this game.

finally after a month of silence my Embryologist sends:

“Hi Gavin,

We saw your donor yesterday and she is great. She is on the pill at the moment and we’re waiting for some blood test.
Please can you find out from the surrogate where about in her cycle she is and if she is on the pill?
I will then start synchronizing the cycles accordingly.

Kind regards,”

yay. start synchronising. that is all i read. no idea how long that all takes. will be quizzing Embryologist on Monday.

how long does it take to ‘come off’ the pill? I wonder. and do you need to wait till all effect of the pill taking are gone, like a full cycle? do the surrogate and the donor need to go through one full cycle together? what about those injections my surrogate is dreading, when do those come into play.?

and of course when do my boys need to be perfect? I does help motivate and keep focus when exercising. happily reduced my body’s age to 41 from 46 last year. Graham keeps saying the ‘G’ word (grandchildren).
Would be something to live to meet them and love them and let them have had a grandfather. They are not getting a mother, so it is the least I can do… 🙂

This child is getting some pretty impressive grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins and godparents.

But a grandchild … now wouldn’t that be something? Dare to dream – even if it never comes true, still dream it, because how else will the world know what to give you?

Ever since I started looking at donor profiles, when I see a little coloured baby, I think “that’s what my child will look like.” Or when I see twins (that 60% chance just keeps echoing in my head), I look to see what that looks like.

But brown babies – well they are like the most exciting thing for my mind – I just stare and something lights up inside me – “that is your possibility right there.”

And I start to dream: –

will it be a he or a she?

Will he have curls?

Will she ?

Will he ?

Just like that baby I am looking at right now…

I just hear Natasha Beddingfield singing:

“I wanna have your baby.

Like serious, like crazy.

I wanna have your baby.”

See a father in a movie – ‘that will be me, tearing up at her graduation.’ ‘oh, that will be me setting rules for homework or doing chores.’ ‘oh, that will be me making birthday cakes, or hosting his friends over.’ – oh that will be me.

I feel like I am in a giant classroom, and I am a new student, and teaching and learning is all around me. There are children and parents everywhere. It is like suddenly they are in focus, whereas I didn’t look closely before, like if you win a ticket to go to Senegal. Suddenly Senegal is what you research and learn about.

So child rearing – Child Rearing 101.

And I am suddenly aware of the simplicity and the complexity of it all. The basics are simple – that is obvious because child rearing is going on every day on a massive scale very successfully, and has for centuries.

Then there is the complexity of it. Boy is it complex. So many decisions you have to make all time that can, may, will, may not, perhaps have nothing to do with…effecting their life, their future, their health, their happiness, their needs, their up bringing, which will effect their future, how they will raise their kids…oh my.

In the end like studying Maths, you observe, follows the lessons, ask for help, think positively and go for it.

I love Maths.

I am so going to love this new subject.

I already love my child.

Good Day Mr Peter

We finally have wonderful news for you – the surrogacy application has been granted!
We now await the court order from the typist at the high court which I will receive and then forward a copy to you.

We trust all is in order.

Thank you once again for your patience and understanding with the entire court process.

Have a great day

Kind Regards

papers papers papers

31 page Founding Affidavit

23 page Surrogate Aggreement

78 supporting documents

ranging from: “what books do you read?” to “who will raise the child if you die?”; each created, signed, witnessed, copied, police certified

and all submitted.

Sometimes I think “Look at that person, pregnant. ha.” it is a strange place to be when you are waiting. your head space that is. “so and so is pregnant, did you hear?” “Really, it’s just that easy, hey?”

In the waiting room, you feel different emotions  – blessed, cursed, tired, bored, angry, frustrated, desperate, nothing… – and all these emotions slowly bounce off the soft white walls of your mind, like the little pink dot in that ancient computer game.

slide (email lawyer), dot hits the ‘paddle’ bounces up again (lawyer replies);

next month

slide (email lawyer), dot hits the paddle, bounces up again, (lawyer replies).

same email : “Any news?”

same reply: “Dear Mr Peter, we are sorry this is taking so long. please be patient.”

Slide. bounce

limbo – purgatory the Catholics call it, the waiting room, with one Men’s Health and a You magazine, before you can enter the gate of Heaven. The gates of Heaven, ironically watched over by my namesake.

Slide. bounce.

and yes – the quick reaction when the ball starts to drop, a call for another paper to be signed, witnessed, copied, scanned, certified…you only get one life in this game and you cant let the pink dot drop.

L’ennui interminable.

Tea with Ingrid and she tells me clearly that yes it is possible. “you only need one sperm, Gavin.”
spending time with Xander, godson, has given me clarity. i am re energised. i only need one of my tiny percentage to be healthy.
what do i want? why am i doing this. Martin Luther King wrote in his letter from Birmingham jail, that before any action is taken one must ‘self purify’. for me this means to ask those questions. to stop and think and meditate.
I have the most beautiful garden in the world which i can stare at from a comfy soft brown couch every morning and meditate with birds as my sound hook. birds… not cars, or alarms or washing machines. I sat there and thought about this journey i have been traveling. it was never meant to be conventional. i guess i was shocked when it became difficult or should i say not easy. but again – i never thought this was even possible, so why am i worried about this road turning into an elevator and now i have to change floors and go down to another department i did not know even existed.
I am moving towards my child. Do i want to do this?
yes – that much is clear.

I have a best friend. Kan Do Kkreon. When in crisis, that is when Lady Sckuffle has got you tangled, call kkreon.
Since telling him my plight – my bubble burster – he has searched and researched, dug and digged, to give me advice and help. At one stage he even made the results look completely wrong. His bedside manner has been easier to understand, but most importantly, about finding hope.
I don’t have a solution yet.
But I am back to looking forward and believing in this miracle.

…There is always a real dollar.

“Good afternoon, my name is Gavin Peter, I am phoning to get my results.”
“Mr Peter, I just got my answer from college.”
“What did they say?”
“The results for the … excuse me.”
“I got deferred.”
“I am sorry, for what?”
“What does that mean?”
“For the (sotto) routine sperm test.”
“Oh hold on one moment, Mr Peter.”
“Well, I have to just wait. I go into the regular pool.”
“Hello Mr Peter, can I talk to you?”
“Just a moment I am on a call.”
“Mr Peter, can we cook jollof rice, I am homesick.”
“Mr Peter?”
“Yes, yes. yes i am here.”
“Well, here are your results. We prefer to give them to your doctor, but we can proceed over the phone, but you should go and see your doctor afterwards to discuss them. We first look for an actual count and we need to count at minimum 20 million. We counted 22.3 million.”
“Yay, that is great! What a relief.”
“Hold on, hold on. We look for three things.”
“Mr Peter, please can i call home, with no internet I have not spoken to my parents in a week and they are going to be worried.”
“The second we look for is the Motility. This is the movement in the right direction of the sperm.”
“Yes, hold this. I will dial the code.”
“We look to see if at least 50% of the sperm are at least moving in the correct direction.”
“Mr Peter, here is the list of ingredients for jollof rice.”
“Mr Peter can I call after her to tell my parents about Georgetown?”
“Yes. There you go.”
“You had a functional motility of 50% which is acceptable.”
“Mr Peter, I can see you are busy, so let me come back later.”
“No, please just wait a moment, I will see you in a moment.”
“The third thing we look for is Morphology which is how many sperm are normal and therefore able to fertilise.”
“Mr Peter, it is not going through.”
“Mr Peter, this has been the hardest week for me.”
“Mr Peter, it is very important, but I will come back later.”
“Now that result is not so good. You had only 4% of normal sperm. This will make it very difficult for you to have a baby.
Perhaps you can try for a year and if you do not fall pregnant you can start infertility treatments.
You can wear looser underwear, don’t take hot showers, keep the testicles cool, eat more vitamins.
There is a supplement you can take which I know can help.
You could try to increase your actual sperm count to maybe 80 million, then you will have more chance with your 4%.
Maybe go see a urologist.
But I am afraid it is not good news.”

“Thank you, good bye.”

Some days it is really hard to be positive.

Chemeli reminded me that I need get that sperm count. So, with all settled for the night I set off for Willgehoogoogal hospitial. I was as prepared as one could be for a sperm count test. “Ooooh, what to pack?” – well ipod of course, and a Hello magazine for the wait. Money – hmmm, no idea what it will cost… take debit card, credit card…R500 in cash?…hmmm what else… of of course will need something to… well … get the guys out. so slip magazine purchased at Adult World into bag and off I roll.”
11 pm is always deserted in Joburg. I made it to the clinic, handed in my form and sat down. No reaction from the night nurse. “I’ll call the other nurse.”
Well, let’s look through the magazines perhaps to find a picture which will help the mood change from clinical green, hospital to…daring, sexy private practice.
incoming message – from my mother of course. who else would I want to talk to at this moment. Chatting about recipes and Christmas dinner is interrupted by the Nurse’ entrance. She picks up my form and gets her bag out.
“Right we will do the blood now and then the sperm we will do in the morning.”
“Am I to stay the night?”
“No. For the sperm…the sperm, but where will you do them?”

Pause. many thoughts go through my head – the main one is ‘How should i know?’ “is there a special room?” – “the bathroom will be just fine.”
My silence and dumb expression prompt her to pick up the phone:
“Hello, yes, do you do sperm?
“…”
“No not vasectomy, sperm.”
“…”
“Sperm. Rotten sperm.”
“…”
“I know vasectomy she just looks to see if they are there, but this is for rotten sperm.”
holding receiver and leaning to me “she has to count them, not just see them.”
“…”
“Thursdays is appointment day. No, no appointment, just rotting sperm.”
“…”
“okay. okay. okay.” hang up.
“She can’t do it – she only counts. For rotting sperm you need to call this number.”

I delete my reply to my mother’s last message about Christmas Ham, try to stand with dignity, take my form and the number and say good night.

As I walk down the empty corridor i check the instructions written in black ink by my doctor: –

“Please do a routine sperm count.”

Onwards – forwards ever backwards never.

After an excellent evening with Karin, Adam and Erica, I awoke in Parkhurst to find William. His royal highness treated me all morning to pleasure upon pleasure of his company, whilst Adsi and Kaz, Professor and Miss Otis, answered my ever curious hunger of information about the lifestyle I am welcoming – Baby World.
Many things were discussed and when I found myself in the Pick n Pay later that evening alone, I heard Adam ringing in my ear, “one tub of Nan will last you a two weeks, pampers, well you will go through 14 a day in the first days…”. I was standing in the baby section. I looked up and there were pampers: R70 for a packet of 20. Nan – R150 for one tub.

Panic.
“Right, Gavin, you had better start building up a stock. It is just like the old days, my friend, in Zim when I had enough toilet paper to tidy the whole school’s bottom for a year.”

Proud of my foresightedness and planning for the future, I told Chipo on skype. “The Secret! The Secret!” she screamed in delight, “That’s the way to go. Yes don’t just dream, Act! you are doing the secret.”

Oh my! This made me glow even more. I took my purchases out and lay them on the couch in the lounge to build on this positive move and reinforce my conviction to continue on this route.

Lillian, my student from Limpopo, walked in and after completing her business, she asked what I was doing with pampers and Nan.

“Funny you should ask I began…”

“That’s great, Mr Peter, but since I don’t see you with a baby now, you had better check the expiry dates.”

crap…

Nan 3 – for babies one year old and older. Expiry Date…3 March 2012.

I better make this baby fast.