Time to Phone a Friend

The Universe works in mysterious ways.  Creator has a plan for each of us and slowly reveals this plan in obscure, cryptic and convoluted messages.  Most often these messages manifest themselves after a difficult lesson has been learned, yet only to those in awareness.  These signs, signals, messages, and lessons are often overlooked by those who do not sit in the seat of consciousness.  The gift of reflection and meditation grants us more self-awareness, opens our minds and hearts and allows us to behold the lessons of each challenge and downfall.


I do not claim to be a Zen master, yogi or guru of enlightenment.  I can testify however, to the power of reflection, meditation and self-awareness.  This journey to become a mother has presented a number of challenges and countless moments of devastation.  Through it all, with the help of Sistren Love, I've sought to listen for the lesson of each hurdle.  My biggest lesson, thus far, has been the act of surrendering.  Giving up control and letting go.  Learning to trust that the Universe will provide and that everything happens for a reason.  

Two weeks ago, I sat in uncomfortable position, having to select one of three donors that were back-ups for 5696, who had been taken off the donor catalog.  I didn't have my heart set on any one, though it was necessary to make a decision as I was out of vials and quickly approaching my next cycle.  I just couldn't bring myself to choose, there was an uneasy feeling in my gut and a heavy force weighing down upon me.    

Confiding in my sistrens, they reminded me of one remaining option - an option that had been suggested over and over since the beginning of this journey.  One that I easily shot down each time, though I truly was tempted to execute.  Acknowledging that I had exhausted every suggestion, tried every avenue and considered every solution, I was left with this one, final proposal.  It was to time to phone a friend.  

Yes, a friend.  But not just any friend.

If this friend and I were close, if we were tight and had a history, if we knew each other back and forth, inside and out, perhaps I would have considered asking some time ago.  Or, if this was a friend that I had been in a committed relationship with, one in which we knew each other on an intimate level and had shared a piece of our lives with each other, that would have made the idea easier to digest.  Instead, this gentleman and I maintained a rather complex, yet immature relationship.  A relationship that was so young and new it had not had adequate time to develop and flourish.  We had not known each other long, we were not in a committed relationship nor were we even boyfriend/girlfriend.  

Over the months, I've met several women who have asked their close male friends or gay friends to be their donors. This concept makes complete sense to me and is an entirely reasonable alternative to using a sperm bank.  My situation, given the relationship's early stages, seemed ridiculous, absurd and downright crazy.  Asking this friend would be akward for so many reasons.  We hadn't established a tight, steady partnership, he had no idea I was actively tyring to get pregnant and his profession placed him in the public eye.  I would have to be insane to follow through with this proposition!    

Who is this "friend" you may be wondering?

Well, if you know me well enough, or if you've been following this blog long enough, than you know that have a special "friend" that I've spent time with for almost a year now.  You may recall a blog in which I described meeting a tall, dark and handsome gentleman, last summer at a concert, the day after returning home from Indonesia.  Mmm hmm, well that's the one.  He was the final option my girls had been urging me to pursue since the day he sauntered into my life. 

His entrance into my life couldn't have been more untimely...(or, in retrospect, couldn't have been more perfect).  I had had my fun in Indo, and was buckling down to start the mommy track.  I had swore off men and relationships in order to focus on getting pregnant.  Just as I did so, this suave, sexy being entered my life.  Isn't it always the case that opportunity knocks when you're least expecting it?               

In the beginning, I refused to put all my eggs in one basket.  I didn't want to get ahead of myself and expect a second or third date.  But there was.  And then a few more.  I didn't know what to make of the relationship.  And could I even call it a relationship?  Living in far apart cities, if not states, his high profile career...there were so many variables (including my own doubts and insecurities) that kept me from accepting the term "relationship." 

Our unknown "label" was just one of many reasons that kept me from sharing my journey to become a mother with my acquaintance.  I also feared that if I revealed to him my desire to have a child, he would think I was trying to trap him into getting me pregnant and I would never see him again.  It was these fears that held be back so many times from sharing my truth.

How then did I conquer the fear and move forward?  Truthfully, the fear never subsided.  The fear was squashed a bit however, by trusting, letting go and of course surrendering.  I needed to open myself up to opportunity; not place limitations upon myself.  If I didn't ask, I would never know - I would always wonder.  Perhaps this man entered into my life for this very reason???



I sat down to write the letter.  My intention was to get straight to the point, present the proposal like a contractual deal and exclude any fuzzy-warm emotions.  I didn't want him to think I was obsessed with him and looking to have his baby because of who he was.  I shared the letter with the girls.  "Um, it's kinda cold," was the response.  I was told to rewrite it from the heart.  Ugh ok, here goes...

The second draft was difficult to write.  I had to go there.  I had to tell the story, help him to understand where I came from, how I got where I was and my reasons for asking.  It was heartfelt, honest, and yes, contained fuzzy-warm feelings.  And, it felt right.  Pressing "send" took many deep breathes and three sistrens by my side, cheering me on. 

The morning after I sent the letter, I awoke feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted.  It was off my chest.  It had been done.  It was out of my hands.  I had done everything possible.  I felt so empowered and in control!  Yet I had given up so much control.  Odd.  A a strange oxymoron.  I gave up control in order to gain control.  This was a huge move for a control-freak like myself.  A monumental move!  I can't say I've ever placed myself in a more vulnerable position.  You'd think I would have felt scared, anxious and helpless.  No, instead I felt fulfilled, strong and confident! 

I am woman here me ROOOOOAAAARRRRR!   

The next few days were trying.  They were filled with a mix of sensations.  I felt proud, confident.  I felt nervous, worried.  I felt free and uplifted.  I felt panicked and frightened.  Day one and two passed quickly with confidence.  As the days continued however, the nerves started to creep up.  This was big news.  This was a huge proposal.  He needed time, right?  That was all.  Time.  

All in all, I trusted.  In my heart I knew he would respond.