Around 2006 time frame my daughter had a hysterectomy due to endometriosis. I remember sitting in the waiting room for her to come out but not really thinking of the ramifications of the procedure. I didn't want her suffering as she had been, but it also was an end to any future babies she might want. Ah...babies...those little lovable packages that do not stay little for long...and they grow up to become children. People think about having babies, do they ponder children? Teenagers? Nah, we only think on the good side of babies. She and I went to a friend's baby shower and part way through, as the friend was holding up these cute outfits my daughter had to leave. She didn't make a scene, but I knew she was crying. I went outside to find her sitting in the car. She wasn't feeling sorry for herself, but she was feeling what she had lost. She wasn't unhappy for her friend - far from it - she was THRILLED! Nonetheless...she felt her loss. I pondered this quite a bit. Getting pregnant had never been an issue for me. There was a period of time when I considered becoming a surrogate and discussed with my then, young kids. They weren't quite in their teenage years, ages 7, 9 and 11. They were adamant about "NO" because they didn't want me to give up a brother or sister of theirs, no matter how I cut it - if it was MY egg...it was half theirs. I put that thought on a back burner and respect their wishes. Move the clock forward again and now my daughter cannot have a baby, but wanted one. She was in a new relationship and could not give the gift of a child to her new beau. This got me pondering, once more. It was time for my annual OB check up so I opted to go to the same OB/Gyn that she had used on the endometriosis. If that disease was hereditary, may as well treat the mother as well, I figured. I had met the OB several years before, at the birth of my first granddaughter and liked his demeanor. So we do our lovely exam and he asks if I have any questions. I had 2. One - would/could I be a candidate for being a surrogate at my age? I was 47. Not looking to do this for more than one time, but could I do this? Could I be impregnated by his sperm, her egg and carry their child, my grandchild? I got his 2 thumbs up! So my mind is now thinking past a lot of things...and oh, by the way...item #2, I see blood in my stool. It is a wonderful feeling to be told that physically, emotionally and psychologically I am in great shape to be their surrogate. To give the gift of life. This time, the only one that I had talked to about it was my daughter and we left it on the table to be discussed in the 'not too distant future.' I then started thinking of how you approach the work environment. My co-workers all knew I was single - how do you explain a pregnancy from a "responsible adult?" And how would they accept the fact that I was going to be a surrogate? I didn't ponder who would be in delivery with me, that was a given - it would be an incredible family moment, I felt. I was still pondering the work issue - the insurance issue...time off...things I had never pondered before. Funny how a test can change your life. Now we move forward, maybe a year later? My daughter and I were once again at a baby shower for one of her friends and this time it was me who had to excuse herself quietly from the room. I had the hysterectomy due to my cancer and hadn't thought of anything much about it, except that it might eliminate the possibility of some other cancers. Now, for the first time I was coming face-to-face with what I could no longer do for my daughter. I felt as if I had cheated her. The tears were of what I knew I could no longer give my daughter, just as her tears were what she knew she could not give the man she hoped to marry. It was the right thing to do - for both of us - to have the hysterectomies, but it was also something that we both share and do not talk about. I don't have regrets, but every so often I think of the incredible journey we would have shared together. I cry every so often of what I lost out on, but I also know that it was the right decision to make. We cry at what we feel we've lost, when in reality, I have 6 incredible grandchildren that fill me with joy. Each one of my kids has 2 children to give their love to, and the spouses get to share that love...how blessed are we all? Not with what we "lost" but what we give daily.
I'll add the yellow...they kind of count as being pink because I can see pink IN them, right? That counts, doesn't it? I love the way my patio is looking. I wish I had some Hollyhocks growin up the side of my wall, but they'd need dirt, not concrete beneath them! 
