We had talked via text and he seemed like a nice guy, but it still felt so odd. Just thinking through how the hand-off would happen was odd... like some shady black market exchange, "meet me in the parking lot with the car seat and I'll hand over the kid."
But, I'm getting ahead of myself.
Here we are, Sunday morning. Our last moments with baby Mason. Dressing him in his "going home" outfit, packing up all his things, and making sure he had a full tummy for the drive home. Then we were done. Mason, in his very typical chill state, just glancing around the room. Justin spent a few minutes saying his good-byes before handing him to me.
THIS was probably the hardest moment of the weekend. It came suddenly really. I was doing OK. I was sad, like saying good-bye to a friend you know you wont see for awhile, but I was OK. Then suddenly I wasn't. I KNOW most of it was hormones. I mean, the night before I cried while watching Guardians of the Galaxy...I don't cry at stuff like that. But still, I sat holding this precious baby fighting back tears.
I was really going to miss him. But more, I was feeling a loss. NOT the loss you might expect. The loss of "that moment". I found myself wanting so badly to hand this kid to his mom and dad. His mom who hadn't slept more than a few hours the whole weekend because she was also grieving the loss of those moments she was missing. I was sort of throwing a tantrum in my head. It wasn't fair that they couldn't be here. It wasn't fair that he had to spend the first month (or 2) of his life without his family.
But also, it wasn't fair that the family that spent 9 months taking care of him had to say good-bye so soon (fast forward, all 3 of my kids have been super bummed about not getting the chance to meet him face-to-face...they've always had the chance to meet the babies).
The nurse comes in with the wheel chair to roll us out. And there they are. The guy and the nanny ready to take Mason "home". I found myself avoiding eye contact. Worried that the tears would start if I caught anyone's gaze. I buckled Mason in and said my good-byes. I thanked the guy and the nanny for taking care of Mason and then we headed to our car.
The guy actually wasn't so bad. It was reassuring to actually meet him, even for a few moments. And I made it through the whole exchange without any tears. Until my stupid fat head husband put his arm around me. Suddenly, the flood gates opened and the tears flowed freely.
I'm honestly not sure how much of tears belong to hormones vs the actual emotion of the whole situation. We're all home now (well "home" for Mason since he'll probably be stuck in the US until the end of June/July). I'm grateful for sleep and family as we get back to normal. I'm grateful for updates from the guy (and the parents). I'm especially grateful that the parents trusted us enough to take care of him for those few days.
SO, was it all worth it? Would I have done this again had I known what the end was going to be like? TOTALLY. I want to tell you all that I am VERY over being pregnant and will not do another surrogacy. I knew that before I even started, this was it. This was the last time. It didn't end like we expected, but it was still a pretty amazing experience.
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