Last month I wrote about a night out with my friend M. Some people commented, and rightly so, that M sounded like an awesome/wonderful/really good friend. M and I have been friends since we were four or five; we were neighbors, and one day The Brother and I saw a brand new swing set over in their yard and ran over to play. Without asking our mother or even knowing who M and her family were, other than our next door neighbors. Our mother chased after us, but by that time we were already over and had made friends with M, her sister and brother. It’s so easy making friends when you’re younger, isn’t it? My mother and M’s mother introduced themselves and the rest is history.
About a week after we had dinner and attended the cookie swap last month she called me. She said she had something she wanted to talk about, and immediately I was nervous. What if something was wrong? What if she or her husband or daughters were ill? What if she was ditching me as a friend after 28 years because I had become a shell of my former self and I wasn’t any fun anymore?
It was none of the above, and I honestly was never expecting what she had to say.
She said that after I told her about the baby we lost in September she had been thinking. She knows we are waiting for genetic test results, and said that if the tests come back and it comes down to needing a surrogate she was offering. She had been thinking about it for three months, she had discussed it with her husband J, and he was fully supportive. She would do that for me, for me and The Husband. She has already given birth to two healthy daughters, and she doesn’t drink heavily or do drugs, and I know she follows all the “pregnant rules” for eating and taking vitamins and general care and well being. I wouldn’t have to worry about a stranger and what they were doing, she reasoned. And she wouldn’t want a dime, she would do it for free.
She got all of that out and I did not know what to say. What do you say to that?
I told her I was speechless. And that I could never ask that of her. I know she doesn’t enjoy being pregnant and I could not ask her to set aside her own life for 10 months, maybe longer depending on if she gets pregnant right away and the whole IVF process. And she said it was only 10 months out of the rest of her life and she didn’t care about that. She knows the risks, but had thought long and hard and wants to help us if she can. And I don’t need to ask because she’s offering.
I’m still amazed when I think about it. That someone loves me that much, cares about me that much, that they would offer to do that for me. I don’t feel worthy or deserving of that type of generosity. If the roles were reversed I don’t know if I’d have it in me. I guess it doesn’t matter what I think I would do, I’ll never know for sure given my situation. And we don’t know yet if this would be the answer or help us. She would have to qualify and we would need to know that the issue is something with my body. If the problem is that there is something in our DNA causing the issue then I don’t think having a surrogate would help. If it’s in our DNA I think we would need new genetic “material” – egg or sperm or embryo. If there was something with my body, and the way it processed folate, perhaps that would be the answer. But right now we just don’t know. We are still, still, waiting.
When I told The Husband he was in shock too. He said it was the nicest, craziest thing that anyone has ever offered him. I agree.
Nice and crazy. There are worse qualities in a friend.