It would have taken something – or somebody – quite extraordinary to deflect my attention away from “The Search For My Child”.
And it has. In the shape of a woman. A glorious, beautiful, intriguing, lovely, somewhat mysterious woman. A kindred spirit. A gentle, yet powerful, soul. A soulmate.
A lover. A friend. A partner.
In the far-too-long time since I wrote the last post on this blog, our feelings for each other have grown and deepened. It is beautiful. It is surprisingly easy. It is based on a “mutually respectful, mutually accepting, mutually trusting” ethos. It is a truly grown-up relationship.
How could I continue my unconventional quest to co-create a child with a stranger after Susan had got under my skin? I couldn’t. And I haven’t.
So my quest has been put on hold. Well, kind of. I say that because, yes, quite naturally, my dream to have a child now rests on the hope that Susan and I might find it possible to create the tiny being for whom my heart so longs.
But, as is often the case in my life when it comes to the really big stuff, it is complicated. It is not only complicated by the fact that Susan is not yet completely freed up from her marriage, despite having been divorced some years ago.
And it not only made complex by the children she has already borne and brought up. And it is not at all obstructed by her not wanting to have another child. She has listened attentively and sympathetically to my words of desire to be a father. And she is not opposed to helping me realise my dream.
No, dear readers, it comes down to age and money. Her age. And my money (or, rather, the lack of it).
Age? I have never attached great importance to the number of years one has spent in this life. Yes, we accrue experience and wisdom as we dance through our allotted time. But we are only as old as we feel, right? Right.
But, as we all know, our bodies – especially those of women - come programmed with a conceive-by date. So it is with an overwhelming sense of fortuitousness that I can tell you that Susan, despite being just a shade under the age of 50, has a body still capable of producing a child. We think.
And it has. In the shape of a woman. A glorious, beautiful, intriguing, lovely, somewhat mysterious woman. A kindred spirit. A gentle, yet powerful, soul. A soulmate.
A lover. A friend. A partner.
In the far-too-long time since I wrote the last post on this blog, our feelings for each other have grown and deepened. It is beautiful. It is surprisingly easy. It is based on a “mutually respectful, mutually accepting, mutually trusting” ethos. It is a truly grown-up relationship.
How could I continue my unconventional quest to co-create a child with a stranger after Susan had got under my skin? I couldn’t. And I haven’t.
So my quest has been put on hold. Well, kind of. I say that because, yes, quite naturally, my dream to have a child now rests on the hope that Susan and I might find it possible to create the tiny being for whom my heart so longs.
But, as is often the case in my life when it comes to the really big stuff, it is complicated. It is not only complicated by the fact that Susan is not yet completely freed up from her marriage, despite having been divorced some years ago.
And it not only made complex by the children she has already borne and brought up. And it is not at all obstructed by her not wanting to have another child. She has listened attentively and sympathetically to my words of desire to be a father. And she is not opposed to helping me realise my dream.
No, dear readers, it comes down to age and money. Her age. And my money (or, rather, the lack of it).
Age? I have never attached great importance to the number of years one has spent in this life. Yes, we accrue experience and wisdom as we dance through our allotted time. But we are only as old as we feel, right? Right.
But, as we all know, our bodies – especially those of women - come programmed with a conceive-by date. So it is with an overwhelming sense of fortuitousness that I can tell you that Susan, despite being just a shade under the age of 50, has a body still capable of producing a child. We think.
What about me? At a few years the wrong – should that be “right”? – side of 50, is my sperm count up to the job? It was - 10 years ago, when my ex-wife was wanting to undergo IVF (in vitro fertilisation) and we needed to be sure I could keep my end of the bargain.
But 10 years is a long time in the microcosmic world of fertility. And, at my and Susan’s ages, the risk of creating a child with abnormalities is significantly increased.
This doesn’t stop others. And it might not stop us. But, should Susan and I agree to go ahead and share the ultimate privilege of bringing a child into our world, it is not a (fairly) straight-forward process of passing on my sperm to her at the right time and letting her get on with growing an embryo we can call our own.
We’ve talked, albeit fleetingly, under the stars at midnight about Susan providing eggs to a surrogate – and younger - mother. This is a possibility. But a possibility that is expensive.
And, yes, this brings in that “money thing”. Susan is pretty well established in her career and reasonably comfortable with a regular income. I am not. I have, since my divorce nearly three years ago, gone through a big life-change, changing cities, jobs, indeed my approach to life.
I have spent months at a Buddhist retreat, done life enhancement workshops, challenged myself with crazy adventures, defied myself to overcome old fears about who I am and how I live.
It’s all good stuff… but I have distanced myself from the corporate world and the flow of money has slowed to a trickle. As of now, Susan and I, still feeling our way into what promises to be a major relationship, have yet to have the conversation.
The conversation about the practicalities of co-creating and co-parenting the child of my dreams. The considerable expense. How I am to make my 50 per cent contribution to meeting that expense? How, even if we find our way to overcoming the challenges of age and the associated heightening of risk factors, we are to make this thing work!
I have already, in the beautiful form of Susan, been enriched with a wonderful gift. Dare I hope that I might receive another, the gift of the child I have been seeking?
I do. I live in hope. Always. Because I believe in miracles. And I believe in life. And I truly believe that, as easily as we can take a new breath, we may start a new life.
But 10 years is a long time in the microcosmic world of fertility. And, at my and Susan’s ages, the risk of creating a child with abnormalities is significantly increased.
This doesn’t stop others. And it might not stop us. But, should Susan and I agree to go ahead and share the ultimate privilege of bringing a child into our world, it is not a (fairly) straight-forward process of passing on my sperm to her at the right time and letting her get on with growing an embryo we can call our own.
We’ve talked, albeit fleetingly, under the stars at midnight about Susan providing eggs to a surrogate – and younger - mother. This is a possibility. But a possibility that is expensive.
And, yes, this brings in that “money thing”. Susan is pretty well established in her career and reasonably comfortable with a regular income. I am not. I have, since my divorce nearly three years ago, gone through a big life-change, changing cities, jobs, indeed my approach to life.
I have spent months at a Buddhist retreat, done life enhancement workshops, challenged myself with crazy adventures, defied myself to overcome old fears about who I am and how I live.
It’s all good stuff… but I have distanced myself from the corporate world and the flow of money has slowed to a trickle. As of now, Susan and I, still feeling our way into what promises to be a major relationship, have yet to have the conversation.
The conversation about the practicalities of co-creating and co-parenting the child of my dreams. The considerable expense. How I am to make my 50 per cent contribution to meeting that expense? How, even if we find our way to overcoming the challenges of age and the associated heightening of risk factors, we are to make this thing work!
I have already, in the beautiful form of Susan, been enriched with a wonderful gift. Dare I hope that I might receive another, the gift of the child I have been seeking?
I do. I live in hope. Always. Because I believe in miracles. And I believe in life. And I truly believe that, as easily as we can take a new breath, we may start a new life.
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