Warrior Wednesday

Dear Zy,

I've been thinking about your biological parents a lot lately, and I want to apologise to you right now, because my thoughts haven't always been nice ones.

Just recently I got a call from the hospital where you were born. More specifically, I got a call from someone in the accounts department. It appears there is money outstanding, and as I was the patient I am the one they called.
The laws around surrogacy in Australia are pretty shaky, to say the least. In the early days we went through an IVF clinic that supports surrogacy, but a lot of the legalities were left to us to sort out (with the help of solicitors). Part of our agreement was that as the pregnancy was really your biological parent's, and just happened to include me as an incubator, your biological parents would be responsible for everything associated with the pregnancy that was physically possible. Including the financial responsibility.

At six months into your growing, the first lot of 'complications' popped their head up. Too much amniotic fluid led to the discovery of a lump in your throat and a quirky esophagus that didn't quite go where it was meant to. At this point, your bio mother had just scared the crap out of herself by googling causes of polyhydramnios and was somewhat relieved when the news was nowhere near as bad as it could have been. Your dad, on the other hand, had a bit of a freak out and took of surfing.
For a week.
Without telling anyone.

Your bio mum and I were furious.

But we were furious together.

And he came back when it counted.

The day after your bio mum and I went to the big hospital to get results of the amniocentesis, your dad returned. The results told us that you had Cri-du-Chat syndrome. We all cried a lot, but your bio mum - she was crushed.
She was so crushed, that when we all went to speak to the specialist together, your bio mum asked me to leave the room so that she could ask the doctor about a medical termination and what that involved.

This time I was furious.

And we weren't in it together.

From that point on I no longer felt like I was just your incubator.
My maternal instincts kicked in - or rather, I let them kick in - and I felt like the person who was carrying you, and giving you life, and protecting you, and loving you.

I felt like your mother.

I gave birth to you. I stood by you and fought with you. I loved you with all of my heart and soul.

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle when your bio mother finally entered the room for the first time - hours after you were born. I resisted the primal urge to growl and bare my teeth at her as she stood in the corner, refusing to look at you.

I held you to my heart and rocked you gently, as you died in my arms.

I cried a river of tears for you, and I let the river carry your ashes into the ocean, so you could be free.

I will cry many more tears for you, so that the rivers will keep flowing and can take you wherever you want to go.

I will love you, with all of my heart and soul, for all of eternity.

And I will pay the hospital account.

Because I cannot bare the thought of your parents not taking responsibility for you.

Love me.