Toronto to Tokyo ... and back

The famed Shibuya crossing in Tokyo, Japan

I have been meaning to get back to my blogging for a while now, but sometimes life just gets in the way. And my reasons for staying silent the past month are probably well known by now since I think I blabbed it to the universe: Dennis and I took the trip of a lifetime to Japan. It had been my dream since watching Lost in Translation back in 2004 to visit Japan, Tokyo specifically. In the midst of waiting for everything to come together with our egg donor last October, Dennis happened to be scrolling through Twitter one night and came across a Narcity Toronto article on an Air Canada seat sale to Japan. The deal was incredible and even though the budget is very tight right now, we just couldn't pass it up. In a matter of a half hour, we had two round trip tickets for Tokyo for two weeks, and not a clue where we would stay or what we would do. We just knew we had to go. And I'm so glad we did. 

A picture perfect day in Kyoto, Japan

In the end - despite Dennis and I being sick the entire time - we did have the time of our lives. We spent a total of 10 days in Japan and two additional days in Taiwan, as we had to depart from there in order to take advantage of the seat sale. It was a huge escape from reality - being in the midst of vending machines at every corner and in between, over-the-top incredible fashions, fancy toilets, subway trains that are never late, never-ending bowls of ramen and udon and people who are way more polite than Canadians (are we really all that polite or is it just a perpetuated myth?). I fell in love with the city of Osaka and told Dennis I would move there if an employment opportunity came up. So I don't speak Japanese - I can still figure things out, right? But coming home took a one-two punch: not only did I suffer the worst jet lag I've ever felt in my life but I was also bummed that Japan was basically just a fantasy, an escape from reality and from the stresses we have to deal with on a day-to-day basis here at home. 

Today I had a meltdown, a complete meltdown. It was in front of my therapist, which - you know - is better than going into hysterics on a crowded subway car in the middle of rush hour, but I still felt bad about it. The emotional toll of what we're about to embark on just hit me. Our amazing surrogate, Kay, and her husband are arriving in Toronto in less than two weeks for her screening day. While it will still be six months before we transfer, this is the first time that it's becoming real. It's not like things weren't real when our egg donor came into town, but we never met her and never found out who she was. She did her part, and then it was over and she was gone. This time, it's different. Kay and I have been talking every single day for two and a half months. In fact, she was one of the few friends who I still spoke to regularly while we were on vacation. I was sending her photos of the most ridiculous things, we were cracking inside jokes the entire time and I even told her I wanted to move to Japan (and she's the only one so far who has told me that if I want to, I can make that happen!). At this point, it's as if I've known her my entire life and she's a close family friend. So the fact that we're embarking on that next stage - when s--t is going to get real, excuse my lack of a better way of phrasing that - is damn scary. 

Furthermore, there's no way of getting around the fact that the costs for surrogacy are astronomical. It's a huge shock to some intended parents when they are first looking into the idea and then hear it will cost upwards of $50,000 to $100,000 - especially when it's altruistic and the surrogate does not make a profit. I do believe that the laws need to change and surrogacy should be commercialized and regulated within Canada. There's enough of a demand for it that something needs to be done. However, I will be honest in saying that if it does go that way, it would be much harder for us to afford. And even though we were well informed of how much we would need to cover this journey and have had that money put aside for years, it's still enough to cause heart palpitations when the numbers come to light. 

But when you really want a child, can you put a price on it? Over the past few weeks, I've seen conversation threads in Facebook surrogacy groups when an intended mother or father gasps at those five zeroes, saying there's no way they can afford to do it and the door to their dreams of having a child is being slammed in their face. Personally, I think there are three things in life that you should not have any qualms about going into debt for: a place to live, good food to keep you alive and healthy, and your children. But for some people, even going into debt is not an option. They just can't afford to have a baby, and it breaks my heart. This of course is a topic unto itself and I'll explore it at length in another future posting. 

The emotional side is a bit more complicated. After my meltdown today, I texted Kay in tears and was completely honest with her - this is all scary and overwhelming and it's just all hitting me at once. And then the shame started to set in - the guilt that I've asked another woman to carry our child, the guilt that pregnancy isn't even easy for a healthy individual, and the disappointment in myself that I couldn't do this entire thing on my own. I wrote about this in a previous posting but it seemed to hit me again today: 

"You're putting another woman at risk because you're too weak to do this yourself."
"You don't make enough money as it is and now you're spending it all on having a baby." 
"You're letting your family down."
"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?" 

Telling Kay I was having these thoughts made me feel somewhat better. But now that everything is becoming real, I don't want the relationship we have with her to change just because she's now 'officially' getting ready to carry our child. I love our daily chats via Messenger and our laughs over Arrested Development memes. I love how she's the first person I go to when something good or bad happens to us and I need to tell someone about it (sorry, mom). I love how I already trust her with some of my innermost thoughts that I'd be too embarrassed to tell some of my other friends, but I feel comfortable revealing them to her. 

The fact is, when you sign up to have a baby via surrogate, no one tells you about this side of things. There's no manual for how to be the best possible friend to your surrogate. There's no specific rules. There's no code. What I do know is that I don't want what we have now to change, but inevitably there will be a greater focus on this little human being we're about to create - a brand new person we want so badly to join our little family, but until that baby is born, she comes first. 

In the meantime, I think I'm going to get some sushi, drink some green tea and pretend I'm back in Japan.